“I’m sure Anita hasn’t told anyone about the proposal,” Deepak says, reading her face.

“She definitely hasn’t. And I know she won’t,” Bina agrees. “She’s always run away from talking things out. She’d rather pretend they didn’t happen at all.”

Bina should just scamper across the parking lot and yell it to everyone, the way the Bina of thirty years ago would have. The wedding I’ve been hyping up to all of you isn’t going to happen! Thank you and have a nice day! She pictures the expressions on their faces, the fusion of embarrassment and relief that will build up inside her after the news is out.

“Anyway, I’m fine,” Bina says.

“You’re not and it’s okay,” Deepak says.

Deepak has been able to tell how she is really feeling since the day they met. He came to one of her plays in Bombay and stayed backstage just to speak with her. She immediately noticed his round glasses and the gentleness in his eyes, a combination that made him look inquisitive and curious, like the type of man who stared at a painting and wanted to discuss how it made him feel. His fingers were long and muscular. That night, she’d learn those fingers had helped him play the piano since he was five years old. Years later, Deepak would pass his artistic sensitivity to their son.

They talked until the theater closed and then went to Havmor Ice Cream, where he ordered two large scoops of butterscotch. She stood next to him and watched the way he made the cashier laugh. He carried himself with a sense of confidence that seemed rooted in ease, in being content with who he was, instead of ego like so many of the other slick, rich men who had tried to court her.

An hour later, they sat outside and watched motorcycles and rickshaws putter by as Bombay came alive for the evening. The smell of sugar and the summer air, damp from a recent monsoon, made Bina feel young and full of possibility. Street vendors shouted, “Fresh samosa! Cold soda!” In the high-rise apartments, televisions were turning to the evening news or latest Hindi soap opera. Families started their evening walks. Men wore white cotton tops with work slacks and the women were in jeans or flowing dresses.