“It’s not that I’m against it. Natasha should talk to someone if that would help her.” Bina puts her book facedown on her wooden bedside table, next to a sandalwood candle, notebook, and a new issue of Vogue India. “I don’t understand why we need to be a part of it, that’s all. I mean, sharing things with this person that I wouldn’t even share with Devi or Anita, it’s just humiliating. It sounds like the type of thing that only white people do.”

Years ago, Deepak’s parents warned him that a woman like Bina was “too bold” and “too complicated,” terms he’d later learn were used for women who refused to cave to certain expectations. She’s not from the same world as you, his mother said the night before he and Bina eloped. Later, after Bina was admitted to the psychiatric hospital, his mother took that as her grand I-told-you-so moment. When Deepak told her not to call him until she was ready to accept his wife, his mother uttered, You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.

In a way, she was right. Nobody knows who the person they marry will become. Nobody knows how both of you will be shaped by the things that happen to you. All you have is the faith that this is the person you want to navigate that uncertainty with.

“What’s really scaring you?” Deepak squints and waits for Bina to tell him she’s not answering that. She hates it when he asks these types of questions right before bed. Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your patients, she says, half-amused, half-annoyed. But the truth is, he hasn’t asked enough questions like this recently. Somewhere along the way, he started taking her for granted. He stopped trying the way he used to.

Bina sinks into her pillow. “I’m scared I’ve done something to cause Natasha to be this way.”

“Of course you haven’t. You’ve been such a caring and loving mother.” Deepak scoots over to her and studies her face. The lines of concern on her forehead. Her skin, still as smooth as the day they met, thanks to a combination of genetics and routine turmeric face masks she started during her acting days.

“Then why doesn’t it feel that way? Why does it instead seem that I did everything I possibly could, sacrificed as much as I could, and this is still how things ended up for her?”

“Because it’s complicated. And it’s normal to want an explanation for all of it, but that doesn’t mean you have to blame yourself.” Deepak refrains from adding that these are perfect points to cover during family therapy. Instead, he pulls Bina closer to his chest. “It’s okay.” He says it over and over again. “It’s going to be okay.”