Page 64 of Not Your Basic Love Story

I mulled it over, staring into his eyes as he waited for my response. How could I say no to him? I wasn’t religious, and he sort of was. Well, his family was. I took a deep breath. “If it means that much to you, then of course.”

He kissed my forehead and then embraced me in a hug. “Thank you.”

I allowed myself to relax into his body, against his chest, appreciating his closeness when earlier today I thought I’d be saying goodbye to him forever. A traditional Indian wedding. In a matter of months. I’d been to Catholic weddings before. Couldn’t be much different than that, could it?

The buzzer rang, and I jumped.

Dev chuckled. “I’ll get it.”

He paid for the pizza while I paced the living room, my thoughts spiralling once more.

“There’s so much we don’t know about each other yet! Like, for example, you’re vegetarian. We got a vegetarian pizza, which is fine, but I eat meat when we’re not together. Do I have to be a vegetarian now, too? I love bacon, though. I would seriously miss it. Can you deal with me cooking meat in the house? Wait, do our kids have to be vegetarian? How many kids do you want? What will we name them? Is there religious stuff we have to do with the kids, too? Like baptisms? What if—”

Dev cut me off. “Woah, woah, woah. Time out! Breathe.”

I swallowed.

“Rebecca, whatever comes up, we will handle it. Together. Let’s take it one day at a time instead of being overwhelmed. What is the first thing we need to do?”

“We have to pick a date. Have you already picked a date? We have to reserve a place to do this thing. Did you say you already did that? You mentioned a Gurda-what? A temple. Right. I have to get a dress! Or do I? What will I be wearing? Oh, shit! I have to tell my mom! I have to tell my friends. I have to—”

“Calm down, relax! I’ve already spoken to your parents.”

I stopped, my mouth falling open. “You did what?!”

“I called and asked your parents’ permission,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, because I belong to them?” I grimaced at the thought.

“What? No! Not like that. It’s respectful, isn’t it?”

“It’s old-fashioned, that’s for sure. It’s leftover patriarchal bullshit.”

“Is this one of those feminism things?” he joked.

I slapped his shoulder. “Dev!”

He laughed. “Sorry! I mean, if you think about it, marriage in its entirety is leftover patriarchal bullshit. I didn’t mean to undermine you, Rebecca. I thought it was the right thing to do.” He popped open the pizza box and offered me the first slice.

“I don’t know, Dev. It’s a lot to think about.” I grabbed a slice of pizza and took a huge bite.

“Well, we don’t have to talk about it right now. Our temple’s reserved and we put out some feelers to a few places for the reception. I've spoken to my parents about everything, and as long as you said yes, we were going to have it all lined up and ready.”

His parents had reacted poorly to the idea of him moving in with me. I could only imagine what kind of argument they had over him proposing. His mother, especially, could not possibly be excited about this. She seemed pretty set on him marrying someone else. Now she was bound to have a white daughter-in-law who knew nothing of their culture or customs and couldn’t even eat a simple home-cooked meal at their house without having major digestive issues after.

We moved over to the couch, and I sunk into the cushions with a sigh.

Dev eyed me. “You're not having second thoughts, are you?”

“What? No!” I hesitated, then reached for another slice. “I mean, maybe. A little. I don’t know. It’s just sudden.”

He looked at me, unable to hide the disappointment in his eyes. “Then why did you say yes?”

I set down my half-eaten slice of pizza and cupped his face in my hands. “I’m not having second thoughts aboutyou, okay? I love you.”

Dev leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine, smiling. “I love you, too.”

I nuzzled into him. “I can’t wait to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you every night.”

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