Page 77 of Knot So Romantic

I laugh when I cannot find my bra. “Have you seen my bra?”

I hear him snort and pull out something from under the sheets. “Looking for this?”

“How did it get there?”

“Don’t ask me,” he teases. “But tell me where my underwear is.”

“We don’t have to find it. Why don’t you just come out like that?”

He runs a hand through his sexy salt-and-pepper hair and gives me a grin. “Really? You want to see me in my birthday suit this early in the morning?”

I feel my cheeks warm. “Only if you’re sure you’ve still got what it takes to make my heart race.”

“Challenge accepted,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eye, leaping out of bed in all his glory to sweep me into his arms.

After a playful scuffle, he pulls me close, his breath warm on my neck. “As much as I’d love to stay and...continue this, I really should get going.”

“You’d better,” I say, sighing at the warmth of his body pressed against mine. “Or you’ll never make it out the door.” I can’t help but giggle, feeling his excitement against my thigh.

“Will you make your famous Maggi noodles for dinner?”

“Did you forget? My parents have invited us to dinner tonight.”

He kisses me hard before he lets go. “That sounds great, too.”

I can’t believe I’m so lucky that Neel loves going to my parents’ house. He loves Mom’s food so much it almost makes me envious at times.

***

The aroma of spices fills the air as we arrive at my parents’ house.

Neel has brought a small potted plant for Mom. “Mrs. Moorthy, I noticed your mini garden last time. I thought you might like this herb for your kitchen.”

I’m surprised he noticed her plants, but they are Mom’s pride. She beams as she accepts the gift. “Thank you, son. That’s...so thoughtful.”

Once we’re seated for dinner, Neel’s eyes light up at the main dish. “Malai kofta? That’s my favorite!” he exclaims, his gaze fixed on the creamy, golden koftas nestled in rich tomato gravy.

Mom tries to hide her pleased expression, her cheeks turning pink. “Oh? I just felt like making it today,” she says nonchalantly. But I know better. She has secretly contacted Neel’s mom to find out his favorite foods.

I watch Mom glow each time Neel compliments her cooking, his genuine praise clearly delighting her. She seems to barely notice the rest of us, her attention focused on our guest.

I’m so happy we’re sharing meals together as a family. It’s everything I’d dreamed of, with Mom excitedly trying out new favorites to impress Neel and entice him to the next dinner.

At one of our recent dinners, I was stunned to hear Mom asking Neel, not Papa, about a new insurance policy she’d heard about. Papa and I exchanged amused glances. I squeezed Neel’s hand under the table as he offered his opinion, Mom listening attentively to every word.

But one of the biggest surprises came at a neighborhood function when I overheard a nosy aunty ask Mom, “Is your daughter dating that man? He’s much older than her, isn’t he?”

I tensed, bracing for Mom’s response. To my amazement, she replied firmly, “Neel is a good man. He respects us and makes Kavita happy. That’s what matters.”

A warm feeling spread through my chest, a mixture of love, gratitude, and sheer happiness.

As I watch my parents warming up to Neel, bringing all of us closer with each visit, our shared laughter and joy, I realize how far we’ve come. Our family has grown, not just in number but in acceptance and understanding.

At this moment, surrounded by the people I love most in the world, I feel truly, completely happy.

Just as we’re done with dinner, Neel clears his throat, and everyone turns to him. “Mr. and Mrs. Moorthy,” he says, addressing my parents, “I know this might seem sudden, but I’d like to ask for your blessing to marry Kavita.”

Mom gasps, a hand going to her mouth.