“Tell Jack I’m up for it. Or at least try to persuade them to not have you replaced by some boring silver fox male. You’ve inspired so many women in this country just by being a female on TV, Zoya. You paved the way for many.”

“Let’s not get too carried away, shall we?”

“Maybe you don’t realize it anymore because you’ve been doing it for so long, but it’s true. You’ve made a difference. You make a difference every single Saturday when The Zoya Das Show airs.”

“You’d better stop before you make me change my mind.”

“If I’m able to change your mind with what I’m saying right now, then you probably shouldn’t go.”

“I guess you’re making me feel guilty.”

Caitlin nods. “Fully my intention.” She leans back in her chair. The effects of the wine seem to have worn off a bit. “Purely objectively speaking, when someone with your job and your stature falls in love with a foreigner, it would make more sense for said foreigner to move here to be with you, not the other way around.” She holds up her hands. “I’m guessing that’s the way public opinion will lean once this gets out.”

“She has children, Caitlin. Children change everything. I’ve witnessed that with my own eyes.”

“I’m just playing devil’s advocate.”

“I also, honestly, don’t think I have another five years of the show in me.”

“Australia is running out of interesting people to interview, anyway. Even though you haven’t even had me on your show yet.”

“That’s why I have to go to France to interview fascinating people. And I promise you will be on the last season of my show. I couldn’t possibly leave without grilling you in front of the camera.”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise.” She pauses to scan my face. “But what will you do? You can’t just sit around all day waiting for your Mrs to get home from work. Folding laundry and cooking beef bourguignon.”

“I’ll get a job. Or maybe I’ll freelance. I don’t know yet, but I’m confident it will work out, because it has to. And because I have acquired some skills over the years. Except for that elusive one: speaking French.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that when I come visit you in a few years, you’ll speak it fluently.”

“What do you mean in a few years?”

“Well, when I come visit you next year, you won’t be fluent yet. Let’s not get carried away. French is bloody hard.”

I laugh, then ask her, “So you don’t think I’ve lost my mind?”