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Lucky always knew his sister-in-law was perceptive and had superior taste. He turned to his brother. “Okay, fine, I might have had a tiny crush on Dina, back when we were in law school.” He turned to Jiya. “And yes, Arshad is an ass, and yes, he’s married to Dina. At least I wasn’t convinced I was destined to be Mr. Taylor Swift.”

Saleem had the grace to blush. “Hey, Red (Taylor’s Version) got me out of a dark place, okay? The woman is a genius.”

Jiya folded her arms across her chest. “Taylor Swift? You got so mad when I told you I thought Timothée Chalamet was hot.”

“That’s because you have a chance with Timmy,” Saleem said. “Whereas Ms. Swift would never look twice at me.”

Lucky had to admit, that was a smooth save. He left his brother and sister-in-law on the balcony to enjoy the view and each other’s company before Nisa woke up, and tried not to think about Dina, or Arshad—or the fracture on his heart he’d thought was long healed but ached now, at the dream of what might have once been.

Chapter Nine

Lucky’s free day evaporated the next morning when Samir called him in a panic at 9:00 a.m.

“Huge problem,” Samir said. “Hania has a vision for the mehndi tonight, but there’s been some mix-up at the party rental place.”

“Sounds like a job your best man can handle,” Lucky said, reaching for the keys for the car he had rented. “Text me the address and design plans.”

Samir exhaled a sigh of relief. “Hania was freaking out. Vogue Arabia expects full coverage, and she wants to make sure the first official wedding event stands out. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing. Thanks for booking us this fancy Airbnb,” Lucky said.

“I thought it might be easier if you were all in the same place,” Samir said, already sounding calmer. “Plus, I know your mom—”

“Refuses to buy takeout and won’t stop cooking, yeah,” Lucky said, laughing. “How are you managing? This wedding is a lot.”

Samir sighed. “If it were up to me, we would have gone to the courthouse with our parents and maybe ten close friends, then had a nice dinner somewhere.”

“I take it Hania was not a fan of that plan,” Lucky said, laughing.

“Not even remotely. She laughed for a full five minutes when I suggested it. But I understand—this wedding isn’t just about us. It’s important for her family, friends, and her business too. She’s built a brand around her personality. I love how ambitious and driven she is, and if that means our wedding turns into content, I’m okay with it,” Samir said.

Privately, Lucky knew he would not be this chill about having his wedding broadcast across the internet, but unlike most of his wealthy clients, Samir recognized and was even a little embarrassed by his privilege. His parents had built the construction business that allowed for his current lifestyle, and as a result, Samir always admired hustle in others. It was one of the reasons he and Lucky had become such fast friends; Samir knew how hard Lucky worked as a contractor, and he had never looked down on him for his career path.

After Lucky ended the call, he informed his family about the change in plans and offered to drop his mother off at her friend Sabreen’s home, to save Saleem and Jiya the side trip before their excursion downtown. Nisa was already jumping up and down, impatient to leave.

“We have to go now!” she announced. “What if the CN Tower has to take a nap when we get there?”

Luqman picked his niece up and twirled her around, much to her delight. “Then I’ll come by and wake it up,” he promised.

They were on their way in twenty minutes; Huma was quiet in the car, which made Lucky nervous. “How do you know Sabreen Aunty?” he asked, to break the silence.

“We went to school together many years ago,” she said.

Lucky glanced at her. “And she moved to Toronto?” he asked.

“She is here visiting her daughter, actually,” Huma explained. “Her daughter married a Toronto boy and moved here maybe ten years back. They have three children now.”

Lucky quickly steered the conversation away from the topic of kids. “The city has changed so much since we moved away. I heard there’s this massive plaza in Mississauga now with over one hundred halal restaurants. We should go.”

Instead of complaining what a waste of money that would be, his mother hummed, an almost yes, which was alarming. He glanced over at her, suspicious. “Ammi, what’s wrong?”

“I ruined your life,” she said quietly, and his heart dropped.

“What are you talking about? My life isn’t ruined. This isn’t about law school again, is it?” he said, trying to forestall wherever this conversation was going.

“I heard you speaking with your brother yesterday,” Huma said. “You could have been a lawyer by now. You should be the one telling me about another child on the way. Because of what happened with your father, you had to put your life on hold. It is my fault you are not happy.” She sniffed, wiping her eyes, and Lucky tried not to panic. He never knew what to do when his mother cried.

“It’s not your fault, Ammi,” he said. “Nobody could have predicted what happened with Dad. It was an all-hands-on-deck situation, and we all pitched in. You started catering, Saleem found a part-time job, and I—”