“I’m not rejecting you.” His chest rose and fell. “I realized what’s been bothering me.”
“What?”
He grimaced. “This feels like blackmail. Like you have no choice but to be engaged to me or marry me, because you don’t want your family to find out about everything that’s gone on. I don’t want that, not for either of us.”
She struggled to speak. “So that’s your objection? Your only hesitation.”
“Yes. Are you annoyed? You sound annoyed.”
“Oh, I’m annoyed, that you think I don’t know my own mind. I wouldn’t tie myself to somebody for life, just to please my parents.”
“I’ve known many people who would do exactly that.”
She pursed her lips and tried to think. Be fair. He didn’t know that this was the new and improved Jia, one who was focused on her own happiness. “So if that concern was gone, if you knew I wasn’t doing this to keep my parents from finding out about the catfishing, we could get married tomorrow?”
“Yes, but—”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
She nodded, still annoyed. “Cool. Move aside.” Jia stalked past him and jerked open the door.
Everyone in the room stopped talking when she walked in. The heroine stands in the spotlight, about to make her grand gesture for her fiancé. This went against everything she’d wanted her whole life. Her family would never respect her after this.
But she wasn’t about to have Dev thinking he was blackmailing her into marriage. Some things were more important than her parent’s approval. “Everyone, I have to confess something. I was cat—”
“Burgled,” Dev said loudly, stepping in front of her. She tried to move around him, and he nudged her back.
Her dad shook his head. “What?”
“Someone . . . stole Jia’s earrings from her, and she was worried about telling you, that it would make her look irresponsible.”
Farzana scratched her cheek. “Which earrings?”
What. A. Weirdo.
A positively endearing weirdo. Jia raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you remember which earrings, Dev, because I don’t.”
Her fiancé swallowed. For all that he was an actor, he was terrible at improv. “The diamond ones.”
“Jia, the ones Noor gave you?”
She tossed up her hands. “Sure.”
Farzana tsked. “Well, that’s terrible, but it’s not your fault. And I’m not sure why you’re bringing it up now.”
“Me neither,” she muttered.
Farzana turned to Shweta. “We were just telling your grandmother, Dev, that while we appreciate her situation, we don’t want Jia to feel pressured—”
“And I was explaining to Jia’s parents that elders should be present at a wedding to give their blessings, and I’m not sure I will be healthy enough to travel to America again over the next couple months.”
Farzana gritted her teeth. “And I was explaining back that I empathize. Were it me, I would want to know that my children were taken care of. But we want a big wedding for our daughter, and this isn’t something to rush.”
Funny how taken care of and married were one and the same in both women’s playbooks but Jia couldn’t afford to be distracted. “I appreciate you wanting to protect me, but I want to marry Dev.”
“And I wish to marry her,” Dev said quietly. “At the time of her choosing, whether it’s tomorrow or six months from now.”
“Well.” Adil gave them a kind, encouraging smile, and Jia automatically smiled back. She was looking forward to getting a loving live-in uncle. “It sounds like you both have made up your minds.”
“Unmake them up.” Farzana raised her fingers and counted off. “We don’t know you well enough, Dev. We have no proper clothes, no time to plan a party, and your other sisters aren’t even here, Jia.”
Jia bit her lip. Her older sisters missing this was painful, but . . . “Only Noor and Zara had big fancy weddings, it’s not like it’s family tradition. I have a huge closet and my roommates can bring clothes for Ayesha and me, and Daddy has his suit. Sadia, Noor, and Zara can call in.”
“It would only be a civil ceremony?” Her mother spat out the words like they left a bad taste in her mouth.
“Sadia’s had two of those by now,” she reminded her mother. Zara’s husband was Christian, and they’d had a small mixed wedding as well. This wasn’t breaking any new ground in her family, in that sense.
Dev shifted. “I would be fine with a religious ceremony, if Jia would prefer that.”
Farzana tossed up her hands. “And where on earth would we get someone to perform that on such short notice?”
Shweta took a sip of her wine. “I apologize for my presumptuousness, but I did look into that and have spoken to the local imam. He is happy to assist. I also took care of some of the more boring paperwork.”
Jia imagined Shweta had only had to think of what she wanted for people to fall all over themselves to accommodate her. Did she have a Hindu priest and a civil servant on standby, too? “Lots of people do the nikah low-key. We can have a big fancy party later.”
“Such a practical girl you are, Jia. Yes, I promise, we will have the biggest and fanciest wedding at a later date, in a leisurely manner,” Shweta said with approval. “We will invite thousands. Have one here, and another in India, so all our contacts can come.”
Adil cleared his throat. “If it is in India, Jia’s whole family may not be able to attend,” he reminded Shweta. “A neutral place may be preferable.”
She shrugged. “Dubai, then.”
Farzana paused, and Jia could see the stars forming in her eyes. “Thousands?”
“Thousands,” Mohammad repeated, weaker, probably thinking of the cost.
“Everybody who is anybody will come for my first grandson’s wedding. Of course, I will pay for it all.” Shweta waved that worry away.
“See?” Jia raised her hands. “All set.”
“Not all set.” Farzana took a deep breath and pulled out her trump card. “What will people say?”
The words landed in the quiet room with the gravity of a thousand aunties whispering the same thing. Jia’s smile was slow. Freedom ran through her veins, and independence made her heart sing.
I had two options: I could be miserable and live my life as others wanted me to, or I could be happy and do what I wanted.
“I don’t care,” she said crisply, and her mother reared back like she’d been stabbed.
“Exactly that,” Shweta said. “Dixits create our own narrative. We will say it is a love match, and Dev wished for his poor grandmother to witness the union. No one will question this.”
Her mother gritted her teeth. “Ayesha. Talk some sense into your sister.”
Ayesha leaned forward, her eyes big. “Jia, are you sure?”
“Very.”
Ayesha sat back. “Okay.”
“That’s all you can say?” Farzana asked her daughter.
Jia tensed. Jia is too much. Jia is a lot.
“She’s being sensible.” Ayesha took a sip of her water. “She’s got a gut feeling if she’s this certain. Her gut is always right.”