“It’s such wonderful work she does.” My mother beamed with pride. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I could make the words stop. All of them. It took every cell in my body to force myself not to bolt out of the room.

Yasmeen aunty bobbled her head in agreement. “Masha’Allah. That is very admirable work, Leila. Isn’t that wonderful, Zain?” Zain pressed his lips together and nodded. The corners of his mouth curled up in slight amusement. Is it possible to die from sheer mortification?

For the next hour, our mothers discussed our hobbies, likes, and dislikes while Zain and I sat there, completely mute. I eventually surrendered to the indignity of my situation and found comfort in the fact that I could at least remove myself, if not physically then emotionally, from the entire conversation. At one point, I even dozed off for a minute until my mother elbowed me in the gut. Luckily, I was able to quickly wipe away the drool trailing down the side of my mouth before Zain took notice from the other end of the couch. I could tell by the glum expression on his face that he too had grown bored. He sat there staring at his phone, reading what I imagined to be an article on the legal protocols for how to divorce your parents.

By the time lunch ended, I knew every detail of Zain’s personal and professional life, even though we hadn’t uttered a single word to each other. While we exchanged our goodbyes at the front door, our mothers exchanged our phone numbers without so much as asking our permission. It wasn’t until we had reached the car that my mother finally turned to me excitedly and said, “That went well, Leila, don’t you think?”

I glared at her, my mouth agape with incredulity. “Ammi, you set me up!”

“I did not do such a thing!” she said with a shocked expression.

“Pfft,” I hissed, crossing my arms. “Whatever happened to you letting me find someone on my own?”

“Leila, beti, I just want what is best for you.” My mother let out an exasperated sigh. “It is my duty as your mother to get you married. Can’t you see? You need me, Leila. Otherwise, you’re going to end up all alone, and I will have failed,” she said with worry.

“I don’t need you,” I stated firmly as I unlocked the car. “I can do this on my own. In fact, I am, and it’s only a matter of time until I find someone.”

My mother sat in the passenger seat, and I slid in next to her. “We shall see,” she said, unconvinced, folding her hands into her lap.

While I waited for her to fasten her seat belt, I thought about how humiliating it was that my mother had dragged Yasmeen aunty into her little scheme. It was bad enough to be branded unfit for marriage by Seema the matchmaker; I didn’t need another one of my mother’s friends joining the “Single Leila” pity party. And the fact that the two of them had conspired to involve Zain—without so much as a courtesy warning—was infuriating. I had actually shown up with the word PINK splashed across my rear!