CHAPTER 17 #2
My parents had the world’s most straightforward love story: they met in college, got married after graduation, and popped out three daughters in quick succession.
My mother had me at twenty-two, Neha at twenty-four, and Priya at twenty-seven.
Most of her friends and family (minus Meera Aunty) had followed a similar timeline, and she couldn’t wrap her head around why anyone wouldn’t.
But that was decades ago, and I wasn’t my mother or Meera Aunty. I was my own person with my own timeline—one that, ideally, did not involve finding a husband within the year.
“She’s also worried about you,” my grandmother added.
“Why? I’m succeeding in every other area of life,” I said, frustrated. “The idea that a woman has to be married by a certain age is archaic. No one bats an eye when men are lifelong bachelors. Look at Killian Katrakis.”
“From what I hear, Killian Katrakis has his own issues,” my grandmother said dryly. “I wouldn’t look to him as a role model. But that’s not why your mother’s worried.”
“Then why?
I hated that I could do everything right except for one thing, and that the one thing invalidated the rest of my accomplishments.
I could’ve been a Nobel Prize winner, chief surgeon, and astronaut rolled into one, and people would still cluck their tongue and say, “Poor Maya. How come she’s still unmarried? What’s wrong with her?”
Most of all, I hated that I’d asked myself the same questions. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I find the same type of connection that everyone else around me could?
I lived in one of the biggest, most diverse cities on earth. It shouldn’t be this hard.
My grandmother sighed and set down her chai.
“She’s worried you’ve closed yourself off for so long that you’ve gotten comfortable with it,” she said.
“When someone is… stuck in a certain way of living, they subconsciously resist change even if they say they want something new. They’re afraid, and sometimes, they need other people to give them a push. ”
I understood what she was saying, but an arranged marriage wasn’t a push; it was a shove off a high cliff and into the churning waves below.
“Is the solution really to marry me off to someone I don’t love? I don’t see how that’s helpful,” I said.
“You could grow to love them. Your parents had an arranged marriage, and they’ve been happy for many, many years.”
“They’re the exception, not the rule.” I placed my dosa back on the plate without eating it. I’d lost my appetite, and when I spoke again, my voice came out as a small whisper. “I’m scared, Nani.”
I felt like a kid again, waiting for my grandmother to bandage my wounds and make the world right once more.
“What if—” I broke off, my stomach bubbling with acid. “What if I can’t find The One? What if I have to spend the rest of my life with someone I merely tolerate? What if I find The One after I get married to someone else?”
My head swam with a thousand questions. I normally thrived under pressure, but my parents’ imposed deadline threatened to break me out in hives.
For some reason, an image of Sebastian surfaced in my mind. My pulse thundered, and I flicked the image away before it fully formed. We were talking about my future marriage; he had nothing to do with this.
Absolutely nothing.
My grandmother’s face softened. “I have faith in you, beti. If it were Neha or Priya in this situation, I’d worry a little more.
Neha is too rigid, and Priya is too impulsive.
But you…” She placed her hand over mine, her touch reassuringly soft and warm.
“You’re ruled by your head and your heart.
It’s a rare skill. It’ll guide you to the right place. ”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It will.”
I wished I had an ounce of my grandmother’s faith in myself.
Anyone else would’ve been comforted by her confidence, but anxiety clawed its way to the surface again, stoking whispers of expectations I couldn’t meet. The more people expected me to succeed, the more pressure I heaped on myself.
“That being said, I would advise you to meet people on your own instead of relying on your mother’s matchmaking,” my grandmother said.
“Go out, have fun. Date for dating’s sake.
Don’t put so much pressure on yourself or your dates to be The One.
Oftentimes, the perfect match finds us when we’re least expecting it. ”
“I guess,” I said doubtfully. “Maybe I should take a page from the holiday rom-coms and walk around building corners with hot coffee until I accidentally spill it on some handsome, single CEO with a tragic backstory and a secret heart of gold.”
She blinked. “Uh, sure. Or you could go to a bar like a normal person. If you’re lucky, you’ll find yourself a rock musician. Then we can watch your mother melt down together.”
Despite my earlier melancholy, I burst into laughter. “Nani!”
“What?” Her expression was filled with innocence. “I’m old, and I’m stuck in this house most of the time. I have to find fun somewhere.”
That sparked a memory. “Speaking of finding stuff, did you ever find your diamond earring?” I asked. “The one you lost in the conservatory.”
She blinked again, her expression turning cagey. “Ah, no. I’m sure Diya will find it eventually.”
Diya returned with my eggs. She set them on the island and gave my grandmother a disapproving stare, which my grandmother ignored.
Weird.
But my mind soon circled back to the issue at hand. “I still need a date for Radhika’s wedding.” I doubted I’d find my perfect match at a bar, but I knew someone who’d met their spouse at a funeral. Anything was possible. “Maybe I need to expand my radius. Search outside New York.”
A sexy vacation fling that turned into long-term commitment. That could be fun.
“Maybe,” my grandmother said slowly. “Or maybe your match is closer than you think. It’s not always about new people and places. Sometimes, it’s about new perspectives.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“You’re a smart girl.” She picked up her chai again, her eyes glittering over the rim of her mug. “You’ll figure it out.”