Page 91 of The Encore’s Crown

“I learned a little,” I admitted. “Very little.”

That broke the room open. The aunties laughed. One pinched my cheek. Another declared my pronunciation respectable. A third asked who had taught me and looked deeply pleased when I admitted I had hired someone in Los Angeles for several lessons.

Mrs. Malhotra announced that food had been prepared and that I needed to eat after such a long journey. I was led into a sitting room overlooking one of the interior courtyards, where enough tea and food waited to feed the entire band after a show. I sat where I was told. That turned out to be directly across from Mr. Malhotra.

Mrs. Malhotra handed me another plate before I had finished the first. Her husband waited. I could feel it. He was allowing everyone else their curiosity before beginning his own. Eventually, the aunties drifted into a separate conversation. Mrs. Malhotra was called away by someone speaking to her from the hall. For the first time since I arrived, the space between Mr. Malhotra and me opened without anyone standing in it. He lifted his tea.

“How long have you known my daughter?”

“A year.”

“And how much of that year have you spent in the same country?”

Fair question.

“Not enough.”

“Yet you consider the relationship serious.”

“Yes.”

It was as serious as anything had ever been for me, what that meant to her, I wasn't sure. His gaze remained fixed on mine.

“What does serious mean to you?”

I leaned back slightly.

“Are there any answers you’re going to accept?”

One eyebrow rose. I had definitely ruined everything now.

Then he said, “I accept all honest answers, whether I approve of them or not.”

I looked toward the doorway. No Radhika or rescue in sight.

Twenty minutes, my ass.

I turned back to him.

“The honest answer is I don’t know exactly what serious is supposed to look like for us yet.”

His expression cooled.

“But I know what she is to me,” I continued. “I know I cross countries to see her even when I can barely afford the flight. I know I pick up the phone whenever she calls, no matter what time it is. I know every room feels different when she walks into it, and every city feels temporary once she leaves.”

He studied me.

“That's very romantic. Romance is easy.” The words felt like a blow to my chest. “Marriage is not. Family is not. Building a life is not.”

My stomach tightened. His gaze moved over me again, but this time it wasn’t about the shirt or tattoos. It was deeper than that.

“What do you know of her faith? Are you aware of the extent of her responsibilities or the expectations placed upon her?”

“I’m learning.”

“That's a pathetically vague answer.”

“Because I’m not going to sit here and pretend I understand her whole life after watching it from hotel rooms and phone screens.”