Chapter 6: Proposals and Publicity

“Didn’t you always say you wouldn’t consider marriage before thirty? What’s changed?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, but my heart raced. I remembered our late-night conversations about freedom, dreams, and waiting.

“I was young then and didn’t understand. Now I’m older and want to settle down.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling shyly. I watched her, trying to read her mind. Was this really happening?

I looked at her in confusion, wondering if I should remind her that just last week she’d insisted on not marrying before thirty.

She avoided my gaze, fiddling with her phone. The change was sudden, but I didn’t want to question it too much.

She wasn’t annoyed by my silence.

She seemed happy, almost relieved. I wondered if she’d been waiting for me to take the next step all along.

“I’ll go to the kitchen and see if I can help—make a good impression on your parents.”

She grinned, already rolling up her sleeves. I watched her walk away, feeling a strange mix of pride and dread.

Everyone nearby laughed:

A group of uncles joked, “Arrey, ab toh pakka shaadi ho jayega!” The aunties nodded, whispering among themselves. Someone shouted, “Don’t forget to invite us!”

“This girl’s really after the money. As soon as she sees your family making it big, she wants to marry in.”

Someone said it loudly, and the others chuckled. I felt a flush rise in my cheeks, not sure whether to laugh or protest.

But Neha was good at getting along with elders. In just one afternoon, she had my parents laughing nonstop.

She helped Ma chop vegetables, praised Dad’s cooking, and listened to the old uncles’ stories. Even the grumpiest customer smiled at her. I watched in amazement as she won everyone over.

My mom seemed to forget her earlier dislike, now urging me to marry her quickly, saying only with such a good bahu would she feel at ease.

Ma kept glancing at me, dropping hints about wedding shopping. Dad grunted approval, but I saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes.

Neha got what she wanted and was about to say something, but then glanced at her phone and her expression changed.

She excused herself, mumbling something about an urgent call. Her smile faded, replaced by worry. I watched her leave, feeling uneasy.

She’d been helping us prepare dinner, but now excused herself, saying her family would worry if she was late, and didn’t stay for dinner.

Ma tried to persuade her to stay, but Neha shook her head, already packing her bag. Dad just nodded, saying, “Girls’ families worry, beta. Go safe.”

I said goodbye to my parents and chased after her to see her home.

I hurried after her, dodging the late-evening crowd. The air was cooler now, the city settling down for the night. I called her name, but she didn’t turn around.

But as soon as I got out the shop door, I saw her looking around furtively.

She stood under a streetlight, scanning the road. Her posture was tense, hands clutched tight around her phone. Something felt off.

I hesitated, didn’t open the door right away, and watched.

I stayed in the shadows, hidden behind the shutter. My heart thudded, unsure what I was about to see.

Soon, a strange young man approached. As soon as they met, they hugged, then kissed passionately right there on the street.

My mouth fell open. Neha, always so careful, so private—here she was, arms wrapped around a stranger. The sight felt like a slap.

I was so angry I rushed out the door.

I nearly shouted her name, but bit my tongue. My fists clenched, nails digging into my palm. I waited, breathing hard, as the two separated.

But Neha had already separated from the man.

She looked around, smoothing her hair, then started speaking quickly. I moved closer, heart pounding, straining to hear.

As Neha walked away, I felt the ground shift beneath my feet.