Page 81 of The Love Match

She tenses. “What?”

“Youareonly eighteen,” I reply. “You’ve got all the time in the world to figure out whatyouwant to do. If you and Menaare meant to be, you will be. She’ll find her way back to you. The same is true of your family. If they deserve to be in your life, they’ll fight to stay in it. People who love you should want you to choose your own happiness.”

Nayim’s gorgeous face materializes in my mind.

Those honey-sweet eyes I could drown in. The spell of his voice, which dared me to be the boldest version of myself. His lips on mine.

Being with him was exciting, but excitement alone wouldn’t have made us happy when we both misunderstood one another so deeply.

“What’s going to makeyouhappy, Dan?”

Dani and I rock together for a while, her head under my chin, until she emits a wobbly laugh. “Ugh. Here you are, having to comfort your friend choosing between college or travel, as if both aren’t out of reach for you.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” I argue, shaking my head. “I want to return the favor because I love you. Besides—” A bitter chuckle escapes me, prompting her to gaze up. “I wish I had everything figured out, but I’m more confused than I’ve ever been.”

Dani angles back enough to take me in. “What’s wrong? Is it the guys? I thought Harun was pretty cool when he came by, but if you still like Nayim and you’re telling me to be selfish, then you have to know it’s okay for you, too.”

“ItisNayim,” I admit, “but not the way you think.”

She and the others already know we broke up, but I didn’tthink it was my place to expose his lies. Now that it’s apparent he might be gone forever, I fill her in about our fallout at the picnic. Her brown eyes bulge at the revelation that he’s not an orphan and ditched me when I refused to abandon my life in Paterson to run away with him.

“Holy crap,” she says when I’m all done. “I thought it was bizarre how he just vanished off the face of the planet over a breakup, but I never guessed that—”

“Plot twist?” I finish for her wearily. “Yeah, me neither.”

She studies me, a wrinkle between her brows. “Did you want to be with him? I—I know I keep telling you to be selfish, but the thought of you giving a second chance to some douche who left without saying goodbye seriously makes me want to throttle him.” The frankness of this startles a snort out of me. She holds up her hands in defense. “But for real, Dalia, Mena, and I—and even your family—would learn to live with it if that’s what you wanted.”

I don’t know if it’s true that Amma would understand a choice like that.

Maybe if we were as rich as the Emons, our reputation would matter less if I all but eloped. But even they seem to be trapped by ideas of status, wealth, and lineage that our ancestors carried across three oceans and hundreds of years. Otherwise, why would they agree to the arrangement between me and Harun in the first place?

But that’s not it, really.

Shaking my head, I murmur, “The boy I thought I hadfeelings for isn’t real. He lied to me and my family. Toeveryone. He looked me in the eye and let me think he knew what it was like to lose someone the way I did.”

Disappointment swells again in my chest. Only now, I know that I deserve better.

Know, even, what better might look like.

The memory of Harun helping me during the mela rushes back. He didn’t expect anything in return. He just stepped in where he was needed, silently promising me his presence.

Dani is quiet for a moment before saying, “I think I have to break up with Mena.”

A fresh spring of tears wells in her eyes.

I hold her. Support her. And we cry.

Chapter29

Tuesday morning, I wake upto the sound of Amma and Nanu in full triage mode.

Scrambling out of my top bunk, I trudge barefoot into the living room, then stumble back when a ball of thread rolls by. “Amma, what’s—”

“Oh, Zahra, good morning,” my mother says without looking up.

“You can heat up khisuri for breakfast,” Nanu chimes in.

The tornado-swept living room has become a familiar sight by now. My mother and grandmother are stooped over a chaotic assemblage of fabric rolls, beads, zari-work, fake jewels, and mannequins with needles sticking out of them like voodoo dolls.

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