“If you think things are off between us, then we need to work on it, not use a proposal as a Band-Aid for any issues. I’m sorry, but I can’t say yes.”

She considers walking toward him, holding his hand and telling him she loves him. She expects him to understand, like the rejected guys in her favorite southern romance movies. They always had the perfect I’ll-be-fine attitude (and hair). She pictures Patrick Dempsey at the end of Sweet Home Alabama or James Marsden in The Notebook. Those guys must have had pretty decent lives after they were let down.

But Karan slams the laptop lid. “You know what? I’m done.”

“Done? Done with this conversation?” Natasha says.

“No. I’m done with this.” Karan gestures to the space between them. “It’s always so complicated with you. I thought I got used to it but, man, you’ve always got something going on.”

“Always? Really?” Natasha crosses her arms.

“Yeah. I can’t ever get through to you. You know sometimes, you start crying and freaking out over things and then never let me help you. It’s a lot with you, Natasha. It really is.”

“I get that I’m a lot,” Natasha whispers. She didn’t need Karan to tell her that. She’s known that for her entire life. And so has he. Since when was it an issue? “But can we at least talk about all this?”

Karan keeps staring at the hardwood floor. “I don’t think there’s anything to say.”

“But if you cou—”

“Goodbye, Natasha.” Karan slides the laptop under his arm and walks away.

“What’s the problem here?” Mom interrupts as she steps into the room. “Just say yes!”

“Mom!” Natasha says. “What are you doing in here?!”

Three lines emerge on Mom’s forehead. “We’re all waiting back there for you to move things along already! Hurry up!”

“Don’t tell me to hurry up!” Natasha says as the other eavesdroppers collect around Mom—Dad, Karan’s parents, Suhani, Zack, and Anuj. Goddamn it, that’s why they are all so excited today.

Karan’s parents are standing on the side, quiet, their stunned faces turned toward the floor. What would it be like to have such placid parents? Would she have been more normal if she came from a family like his?

Anita Auntie clears her throat. “We should leave. Now.”

“Anita, wait,” Mom says.

Anita Auntie shakes her head. “I think we should be with our own families right now.”

Our own families. Seemingly innocuous words but really, a message: our families are separate.

And just like that, brunch is over.

Two

Suhani

Can you believe the nerve of that girl? After everything she’s put me through. Who does she think she is, doin—”

“Mom,” Suhani interrupts. “Can you stop talking about Natasha? For just one minute?”