A tuxedoed server approached with deep-fried fritters as a snack, and Annika gratefully reached for one. Naya was standing next to her and reached for one, too. The girls looked at each other and automatically moved their heads from side to side. “Hot-hot.” They proclaimed and burst into giggles.

Daniel took a fritter and raised it to them. “Garam-garam,” he said, and both girls promptly stopped their giggles to stare at him, astonished. He took a bite, then pointed to the door where Auntie approached and circled the groom’s smiling face with an herb packet.

Annika finished her fritter and leaned toward Daniel. “She’s warning him. Giving him the option to leave now, with no further ramifications.” She started to explain, still looking at the groom. “It’s equivalent to ‘speak now or forever hold your peace.’ Because—”

“Because if he crosses the threshold, he’s committed to marrying her daughter. There’s no turning back.” Daniel turned toward her.

“That’s right.” Annika finally looked up at him, forcing her jaw closed. Who was this man? He was staring down at her the way he had right before he kissed her that night. She should look away, but he held her with his gaze as sure as if he’d been holding her in his arms.

Cheering from the crowd snapped Daniel’s head around. “We’re going in.”

They followed the procession of the groom with the bride’s parents leading him to the four-poster mandap, where the wedding ceremony would take place. The bride would enter once the groom was seated and blessed.

They approached the mandap and the groom paused.

“He’s going to have to take off his shoes,” Daniel whispered.

“Yeah. I know.” Duh. How did he know?

The groom would have to remove his shoes before entering the mandap, and someone from the bride’s side—usually a cousin or a sibling—would try to steal them in an effort to get the groom to pay up to get them back later. Members of the groom’s side were tasked with not letting that happen. It was one of many games played at weddings. Annika loved how the fun always balanced the solemnness of the occasion. It was like saying that, yes, marriage was a serious business, but don’t forget to enjoy life, too.

“How do you know—”