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Dina laughed lightly. “Good question.”

He pinned her with a glance filled with a spectrum of emotion: anger, a trace of anguish. “I’m serious, Dina. Why did you marry Arshad?”

Dina froze. This was it. The question she had asked herself over and over again. The one she had grappled with during therapy sessions before finally making the decision to kick Arshad out.

The answer was convoluted and complicated, and the truth was, there wasn’t one single reason. But the words she spoke now, glibly and without thought, encapsulated one of them: “Because I didn’t get a better offer.”

Lucky froze, and Dina found herself staring into his dark-brown eyes, his pupils blown wide as he looked his fill, the silence louder than any words.

Finally, after what felt like years but was only seconds, Lucky spoke. “Are you hungry?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Lucky wasn’t sure what he was doing. He should have been working on invoicing or scheduling his next few projects. He had six jobs lined up after Samir’s wedding, each with demanding clients. One of the jobs was particularly complicated—a full house gut that required permits and equipment rentals. He really needed to get started on the planning process.

Yet here he was, parked in front of his favorite Indian restaurant on Devon Avenue, Dina beside him, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He was tired of denying the spark between them. He couldn’t pretend that she didn’t represent everything he had ever looked for in a partner. She was his ideal, and though he still didn’t quite understand why she was here, or what was going on between her and Arshad, he couldn’t send her away.

He watched her take in the restaurant as he helped her out of the truck, trying to decipher the quick expressions that crossed her face as she took in the tired awning, the faded planters with the bedraggled plants. He wanted to climb inside her brain, to acquaint himself once more with this new Dina, who was even more compelling than the young woman he had once known. It was starting to become a game, comparing the now Dina to the one he knew six years ago. She had grown into her features, the softness around her face gone, the beginnings of fine lines around her eyes when she smiled. He wished he had watched the evolution in her features and personality over the years, a video unfurling in real time. Dina made him wish time would slow down. One thing he knew: She was even more beautiful now than she had been in law school.

“. . . Lucky?” Dina asked, and he became aware that she had asked him a question, and that he needed to stop staring at her like a lovesick teenager.

He cleared his throat and made a show of raising his eyebrows, as if he had been deep in thought on some matter. “Hmm?”

“I said, Is this your go-to desi spot on Devon?” she asked.

Lucky nodded, reaching in front of her for the door and holding it open. “Areej Aunty was a friend to my dad, back when he first opened his store. She told him the lay of the land, helped him with a few tricky parts of running a business, told him who to avoid and who he needed to get to know in the community,” he explained. He nodded at the busboy up front before settling at his usual table in the corner of the small shop. Dina took the seat opposite, looking around with interest. Mazedaar Cuisine would never win awards for interior design, but the food was delicious and freshly made every day with quality ingredients that were in season.

The proprietor, Areej Zaiqa, came charging out of the back as soon as they sat down, just as Lucky had expected. A woman on the other side of fifty, her graying hair pulled back from her face, dressed in her trademark polyester shalwar kameez tunic and loose pants, she glared at Lucky, hands on her hips.

“Luqman Latif, how dare you show your face here!” she boomed, her gruff voice carrying across the room. Regulars paid her no mind, while a few newer customers looked alarmed, including Dina.

“What did you do?” Dina whispered across the table.

Lucky rolled his eyes and stood up. “I didn’t text her before I showed up.”

Areej Aunty loomed over their table, and though she was almost a foot shorter than Lucky, seemed to tower over him. “What did I say?” she demanded.

“You need at least one hour’s notice next time I drop by,” Lucky said. “This visit was a bit spontaneous. Admit it, you’re happy to see me.”

The older woman scowled at him. “If you weren’t so good with the faucets and whatnot, I would throw you out!” she declared.

“The sink is backed up again?” Lucky said, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I’ll take a look.”

“You will do no such thing,” Areej Aunty said. “I forbid it!” But Lucky was already making his way to the kitchen at the back of the restaurant, leaving Dina alone with Areej Aunty, who stared at her.

Dina wasn’t sure what she was doing here, and now there was a scary aunty staring at her.

“Who are you?” Areej Aunty barked.

Dina pasted a friendly smile on her face and tried to look harmless. From the skeptical expression on Areej Aunty’s face, she wasn’t buying it.

“You’re not Mariam,” the older woman added.

“I’m . . . not?” Dina said, immediately feeling stupid. Who was Mariam?

“Not too smart,” Areej Aunty said. “Lucky needs a smart girl.”