Sitting behind Aama and Baba, I stare at Zach’s face on my phone screen.

The reason this Skype call is taking place in my parents’ presence is that it’s them Zach has called this time around. I’m just a silent “extra” in this show. I’m the party who, if we were doing this properly, wouldn’t even be present on this occasion.

“I love your daughter, and I would very much like to marry her,” Zach says before adding, “if you’ll agree.”

Ever since his public declaration at Charles de Gaulle, Zach has said and texted “I love you” to me every single day. It’s as if his floodgates burst open and now there’s no stopping him.

Not that I would ever want to stop him from saying those words.

Aama and Baba don’t respond immediately, even if I know they’re going to say yes.

Over the last month, we’ve discussed this almost daily, and I’ve managed to get them to move from “no way” to “all right, then.” It helped that Priyanka took my side. It also helped that after I turned down Giriraj, my parents couldn’t reasonably expect more Brahmins to scramble to offer for the picky Dalit girl… who may have been ruined during her unsupervised stay in Paris, anyway.

I didn’t tell my parents I’d given my virginity to Zach. Call me weak or a hypocrite, but I knew I’d rather elope with him and risk their wrath than hit them over the head with that confession.

I’d almost given up and was about to suggest elopement to Zach when Marguerite came by our house and vouched for him. With my sister, her husband, Marguerite, and Noah all championing Zach, Aama and Baba finally caved in.

Trouble is, they don’t seem to be in a hurry to inform him of their consent.

“Can we see some proof that you aren’t already married?” Aama says. “Last year, we were assured you were. We even talked with your wife.”

Zach sighs. “I’m very sorry about that charade. Colette and I aren’t married. In fact, we never were.”

Too much information!

I should’ve warned him not to mention that detail.

Baba knits his brows. “You made a child out of wedlock.”

Zach drops his head to his chest, realizing his gaffe.

“It’s common in Europe,” I say. “People date, make a child or two, and then get married.”

“Or not,” Aama says pointedly.

Zach looks up. “In my defense, I did propose when I learned Colette was pregnant. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to tie herself down.”

Aama’s eyes widen. “With a baby on the way?”

“She wasn’t sure she was having the baby,” Zach says. “The only reason she didn’t get an abortion was her fear of hospitals.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence, but then Baba speaks. “We have yet to get over the fact that you’re the reason Uma refused to marry Giriraj.”

“I don’t think so,” Zach says. “She refused to marry him because she didn’t love him.”

Aama shakes her head.

“It’s true,” I say. “I never loved Giriraj.”

She sighs. “In the Hindu tradition—your tradition, Uma—love is something that comes after marriage.”

Baba gives me a hard look and points his chin to the phone. “So, you love him?”

I nod, realizing that even if Zach knows it, I’ve never said those words aloud.

“I do.” My voice is loud with no hesitation. “I love him more than anything in the world. More than life itself.”

Even without looking at the phone, I can feel Zach’s hot stare on me.

Baba gives me a quick nod before turning to Zach. “All right, then. You have our permission and blessing.”

Finally!

“The wedding will be held in Nepal,” Aama says, shifting from resigned to businesslike with surprising ease. “We’ll ask an astrologer to find an auspicious date.”

What?

There was no question about a wedding. It was supposed to be a no-fuss, courthouse marriage.

Zach blinks and glances at me.

“Aama, Baba, we don’t want a—” I begin.

Aama shakes her head. “Don’t you think you owe us a proper ceremony?”

“Of course,” Zach says, clearly over his initial surprise. “I’ll be happy to travel to Nepal and marry Uma according to the Hindu tradition. May I bring my son and my parents?”

Aama grins.

“You should bring them and anyone you can round up,” Baba says. “The more the merrier. We don’t want a lonesome groom with no family or friends to support him on such an important occasion. It would reflect badly on Uma.”

I cover my face with my hands.

“Got it,” Zach says. “Expect a small army.”

When the conversation winds up, the mood and my parents’ tone are light-years from where they started. They make jokes, laugh at Zach’s jokes, and look mighty pleased.

After dinner when Priyanka stops by to hear the outcome, Aama says, “He’s very amiable, your sister’s beau. I can see why Uma fell in love with him.”

“Err… I’m not sure it was his amiability.” Priyanka gives her a sly smile and fishes her phone out of her purse. “I looked him up the other day.”

I lean over Aama’s shoulder as Priyanka pulls something up for her on her phone. It’s a video of one of Zach’s games. My sister pauses it when Zach propels himself out of the water in all his muscular, virile glory, ready to slam the ball into the opponent’s goal cage.

Pointing at his torso, she smirks. “This is why she fell in love with him.”

My face feels like someone just set it on fire.

Aama claps her hand to her mouth in pretend shock and erupts in laughter. Priyanka howls, holding her sides. They double over. Looks like my mother and older sister just regressed to teenagers.

“More tea, anyone?” I mumble and scurry to the kitchen.

My phone beeps as I fill the kettle. It’s a text from Zach.

I reread the message several times before sticking the phone in my pocket and praying to the gods that the astrologer finds an auspicious date this month. Or, if that’s too much to ask, next month.

If it takes any longer until Zach can execute his threat, I might expire from yearning.