I shifted in my seat, pressing the small circular button attached to the armrest—the only thing separating me from Mr. Yogi to my left. I closed my eyes as the emotional twang of violins and keyboards sounded through the cheap plastic headphones. The classic film Veer-Zaara was playing on the small screen, and for the next three hours, I was entirely immersed in the melodramatic story of two star-crossed lovers separated by the politics of post-Partition. When the movie reached its final scene, when Veer and Zaara finally see each other again after twenty-two years apart, I could feel the waterworks coming.

Up ahead, the flight attendant was making her way down the aisle checking in on all the passengers who were still awake. Oh, man, pull yourself together, Leila! I told myself. You’ve seen this movie a hundred times. No one cries at such a cliché ending. But as the on-screen couple walked toward each other in slow motion with scenes from their past fading in and out and the sweet voice of Lata Mangeshkar singing “Tere Liye” in the background—I couldn’t control myself. I started blubbering like a baby.

“Are you okay, miss?” The flight attendant appeared suddenly with a concerned look.

“Yes,” I said, quickly switching the channel to a Family Guy episode. “There’s just something in my eye,” I lied, giving her a teary smile.

I waited until she moved on to the next passenger before turning off the screen. I leaned against the seat, still moved by the love shown in the movie. Veer and Zaara’s relationship was able to endure the most challenging of obstacles—political conflict, false imprisonment, even old age—but their love still managed to find its way. Yet my relationship with Zain had fizzled out over an unanswered text. I sighed.

I had started out in this process with such certainty that I would find a husband within the allotted time. I had convinced myself that all I had to do was find Mr. Perfect and the rest would be easy. How greatly I had been mistaken. I thought I had found him in Zain. But finding him wasn’t enough; it wasn’t my guaranteed ticket to a happily ever after. If it were, we would be in each other’s arms at this very moment as the lyrics of “Tere Liye” played in the background. Maybe Zain wasn’t as perfect as I thought . . .

As drowsiness suddenly began to descend upon me, my thoughts drifted back to the movie. Zaara never expected to fall in love with Veer. He was Indian. She was Pakistani. He was the total opposite of everything she thought she wanted. She was already engaged to someone else. But, despite their circumstances, they ended up together. After twenty-two years. They trusted love to take its course. The same way my parents did . . .

* * *

I wasn’t sure for how long I had dozed off, but when I opened my eyes next, all the lights in the cabin were turned on and the seat belt logo above my head was lit.