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Dina was not so easily dissuaded. “Stop avoiding the question. Arshad said he invited you. I reached out too, but I didn’t hear back. I was worried, but then Arshad said you had been in touch and declined, without giving a reason.”

Lucky hadn’t declined the invitation; he had simply not responded, which meant Arshad had lied to Dina. No surprise there. “I was busy,” he muttered. Also, it would have killed me to watch you get married to that idiot, he thought.

She wrinkled her brow at him. “What happened between you and Arshad? He never told me. He only said you drifted, and that he missed you.”

Lucky shook his head. “Just drop it, okay? It’s all in the past. It doesn’t matter.”

Dina was silent for a moment. “It mattered to me.” She couldn’t help but add, in a small voice, “You always matter to me.”

Lisa stood outside the bathroom cubicle while Dina shimmied into the deep-green lengha another of her sister’s sponsors had picked out for the event. Mehndi colors were green and yellow, but her sister had decided to go nontraditional with her own outfit and was decked out in a beautiful lilac gown. Lisa had chosen a lime-green combo today; on anyone else the outfit would have looked like a walking highlighter, but with her neon-purple lips, extravagant lash extensions, and beehive updo, Lisa was pulling off the retro eighties Bollywood look with flair.

“Tell me again about Lucky moving those thousand-pound bronze statues with his bare hands,” Lisa said while Dina changed. “Did he take off his shirt and wipe his face with it? I love when hot guys do that.”

Dina paused, remembering her own heated reaction to Lucky’s prowess. “No comment. Other than, yes he did, and the view was pleasant.”

“Tell me you took a pic. He looks like the sort of man who doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, if you know what I mean,” Lisa said. “I bet he could lift you up and throw you around.”

Inside the cubicle, Dina didn’t bother to hold back her smile. She loved that Lisa was so outspoken with her innermost thoughts; it made it easier to accept her own. It had been almost two years since she had felt a spark for anyone, maybe longer. Though she had no intention of putting herself out there again, especially for a man who had already made his feelings, or lack of them, clear, it felt nice to know that she could still have that reaction. The attraction she felt was life affirming. During her darkest moments of her separation from Arshad, she had been convinced that she would never be able to feel attraction to anyone ever again.

“Are you talking about Samir’s friend, the hot one?” a voice said from the other side of the bathroom partition. One of the A girls was in the bathroom and had overheard their conversation. Dina flushed in embarrassment. She emerged from the stall just as the other door opened. It was Faiza, a pretty young premed student dressed in a soft-sage-green sari.

“We went to school together,” Dina explained.

“Do you know if he’s single?” Faiza asked.

Dina ignored the unexpected pang of possessiveness at this question. It was only because she was concerned for her former friend and didn’t enjoy hearing him objectified by one of the A girls, she told herself. No other reason. “No idea,” she said. Lisa watched this exchange with a knowing smirk on her face. Dina ignored her.

Faiza shrugged. “Whatever. I heard he works construction anyway. My parents wouldn’t let me get with anyone who works in the trades. All the hot ones are taken or dumb.”

“Lucky isn’t dumb!” Dina said, suddenly defensive. “He was in U of T law school.”

“Then why is he working construction?” Faiza asked. “Sounds shady. Besides, I’m going to be a doctor. What does he even bring to the table?”

“Lucky made the table. Which means he’s way too good for you,” Dina said, pointedly.

Faiza snorted, an unladylike sound. “Whatever, Dina. I’m just stating facts.” She finished reapplying her lip gloss, then flounced out of the bathroom.

Dina checked to make sure they were truly alone before turning to Lisa, who had watched the entire exchange with a growing smile.

“You stood up for Lucky,” Lisa said.

“We used to be close,” Dina muttered. “I’m not going to let Indian Barbie cast aspersions.”

Lisa leaned close, cackling. “You still liiiike him!”

Dina took a deep breath and reached for the makeup bag Lisa had brought, alongside the costume jewelry set her sister had included with the outfit, and started to methodically pull on bracelets before reaching for the matching dangling gold chandelier earrings. At least this outfit didn’t make her look like an orange frozen treat. “As far as my family is concerned, I’m married,” she said. “And since I have no desire to become the scandal of the wedding by cozying up to a former classmate, it makes no difference what I feel for Lucky. He’s just an old friend who happens to be friends with my soon-to-be brother-in-law.”

Lisa shook her head, disappointed. “At least get his number. You know, for wedding-related emergencies,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Late-night emergencies.”

Dina ignored her. Besides, she still had Lucky’s number from their law school days. “I just need to get through the next week. I can’t believe you’re not coming to the walima reception in Chicago.”

Lisa gestured at her prominent baby bump. “No flying this close to the due date, not when Mika came so early last time,” she said, referring to her firstborn, two-year-old Mika, Dina’s second-favorite person on earth next to her mother. “But I’ll be with you in spirit. I’ll expect frequent FaceTimes. Unless you’re too busy staring at Lucky’s abs to call me.”

Dina rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to tell you about his abs.”

“So you admit he has them!” Lisa said.

The door opened and Kulsoom joined them. Hania might have questionable taste in decor, but she had picked the perfect wedding planner: Kulsoom Nawaz was a consummate professional. A woman in her early thirties who had been planning events for over a decade and who never panicked, even in the presence of a ten-foot-tall flying horse.