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“What’s your problem?” Lucky said, shaking loose of his brother’s grip once they were in the foyer.

“You do realize Dina is married? To your former friend, Arshad,” Saleem said.

“Careful,” Lucky said.

But Saleem didn’t back down. “I know you two used to be close, but that was a long time ago. Things are different now. You see that, right?”

“What are you trying to say?” Lucky asked.

Saleem sighed and looked up at the ceiling, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I’ll admit I was in my own world when we first moved to Chicago, and that there was a lot going on in the family, but even I could tell how hurt you were by everything that went down with Dina. You went from talking about her literally all the time to never mentioning her again. She broke your heart, Lucky Bhai.”

Saleem never used the Urdu honorific for “brother,” which meant he was genuinely concerned. “Dina and I are just . . . reconnecting,” he said. “Catching up. As old friends do.”

“You can’t stop staring at her,” Saleem said flatly. “Even Mom noticed. Jiya asked me if you were having an affair.”

Lucky blinked. Had he been that obvious? He thought about their interactions over the past few days. Had he been making a pest of himself, forcing his company on Dina, following her around like a lovesick adolescent? Then another thought stopped him cold: What if Dina hadn’t been able to answer Ambreen’s question about marriage because she had been trying to spare his feelings? Maybe she hadn’t wanted to rub her joyful, perfect, happy marriage in his sad, lonely, desperate face. She might have implied that things weren’t perfect between her and Arshad, but had she ever once indicated that she intended to do anything about it, or had he been reading a different book this entire time?

He buried his head in his hands and groaned. Saleem patted his shoulder. “We just don’t want you to go back to that dark place again. Last time, you were down for so long. It’s not like anything has changed, right? Dina is still married to Arshad. And Arshad still betrayed you by stealing your girl.”

Lucky had confided in his brother one night when Saleem found him punching holes in the drywall in the garage. He recalled that feeling of helpless rage now, even as he acknowledged that Saleem was right: Nothing had changed. Which meant that he had to deal with reality as it existed, not as he wished it to be, and while he still had his dignity.

Lucky took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than Saleem. “Okay, okay. You’re right.”

“Jiya really wants to introduce you to a few people at the wedding. Is that okay?” Saleem asked. “They’re single, nice, and excited to meet you. What do you say?”

He wanted to refuse, but at this point, it couldn’t hurt. Lucky nodded. “Lead the way,” he said. At the door, he squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Thanks, Haleem,” he said, using his childhood nickname for his brother, named after the savory meat stew Saleem inhaled whenever it was served.

Saleem shrugged. “Low key, I was pretty sure you were going to deck me, but Jiya insisted it was worth a shot.”

Now he felt even worse. “I think I need a minute,” Lucky said, standing back. Once his little brother had disappeared back to his family, Lucky sank onto a tufted armchair with fake diamond embellishments.

He thought he had been so subtle. That the feelings that had revitalized, like ramen noodles in boiling water, the moment he clapped eyes on Dina at the airport were hidden. But if he was being so obvious that his baby brother and sister-in-law felt they had to intervene, he must have been making a proper fool of himself.

Arshad had probably noticed every stare, every pathetic attempt at flirting with his wife. He was probably laughing the entire time. Most likely, all Dina felt for him was pity.

Lucky groaned out loud. It was happening all over again. He was falling for Dina, just as deeply and thoroughly as before, while she was simply being kind and friendly. He had read too much into every interaction, again.

He had been foolish to even nurture the fleeting thought that there was something between them still. Even if there were, what did he expect to happen? She was married to Arshad and practiced law in Toronto. He lived in Chicago, where he had a business and where his family had settled. If anything were meant to happen between them, it would have already. Whatever fantasy he had built up in his head was nothing but displaced longing.

Maybe this was simply a delayed reaction to Mariam dumping him; maybe being surrounded by wedding festivities had him reevaluating his own life; no doubt Saleem and Jiya’s good news had played a part too. Except panting after Dina wasn’t going to help him build the life he wanted. He needed to look to the future and stop living in the past.

Lucky stood up, a new determination in his steps. He would meet the women Jiya and Saleem had scoped out and forget all about Dina Haq, once and for all.

Jiya first introduced Lucky to Mehreen, a petite woman with oversize glasses and a slightly rumpled green shalwar kameez, whose smile remained fixed no matter what Lucky said.

“Are you enjoying the wedding?” he asked.

Nod. Smile.

“How do you know Samir?” he tried.

Shrug. Smile.

“Did you try the appetizers?” he said, desperately trying to prod a response, any response, to his questions. He had to be doing this wrong.

Nod. Smile.

He lasted three minutes before making his excuses and returning to the table. “Definitely not,” he said.