“Yes. And, well, obviously a lot more in the past few months. My mom is obsessed with Facebook.”

“Mine, too.” Alex laughed, imagining the hundreds of low-resolution memes they had probably shared over the course of ten years. At the thought of what they might have discussed, a new, rather sharp pang of anxiety welled up in her throat. “Are… are you proposing?” she blurted out, looking down at her outfit. “Because I don’t know if I would have worn this.”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly and grinning. “That’s a little presumptuous.”

“No, god,” she brought her hands to her face in embarrassment. “Of course it is. And I don’t want to put any pressure on you, maybe you don’t even want to get married. I don’t know, I just thought—”

“Hey.” He gently pulled her hands from her face, taking them in his. “Of course I want to get married. I want to get married to you, specifically, and I will be asking you. But I’m not going to do it in my mother’s living room, if that’s okay. It was just important to me for our families to meet first. No need to panic.”

“Oh.” She could feel her body relax at the calm gravity of his voice, drawing strength from it. “That makes sense.”

“Trust me that Paul has already made a part-time job out of helping me plan everything—you won’t even have to worry about your outfit.” He laughed, clearly thinking back to a conversation they must have had on the topic. “He sent me this weird body scan app I’m supposed to use to discreetly get your ring size, but I’m not doing that.”

She laughed with him, and in a reflex that felt completely irrational, almost out-of-body, her laughter turned into a sudden burst of tears. She buried her face into Danial’s chest as she wept uncontrollably.

“Oh, no, my love, what’s wrong?” His voice sounded so worried, the words my love spoken with a tenderness she had only ever heard on his phone calls in Farsi.

“We,” she started, still unable to meet his eyes, “we missed so many years together.” Her breath caught on her words, hitching her body forward with another sob from deep within her chest.

“Shh.” He pulled her tighter to him, pressing his lips against the crown of her head. “It’s okay.”

“I know it is.” She sniffled, muffled against his chest. “I know it is. It just makes me sad.”

She could feel him nod against her, rocking her and whispering for her to shh against her curls. Once her crying had finally slowed, he pulled back, bringing his thumbs to her cheeks to wipe carefully under her eyes.