Dev shoved his hands in his pockets and he met Jia’s eyes. How to explain this to people who were so far outside his culture? “Your Hollywood-famous families have no comparison to ours. My family occupies an odd space in society, where the public feels like we... belong to them. I was able to avoid too much public scrutiny for years, because the rest of my family was so much more high profile than me, but now I’m one of the few left.”
“So they feel entitled to knowing about your life,” Katrina summarized. “But that doesn’t mean they get to have a say in it.”
“It’s not fair, but they’ll have an opinion. It was one thing when no one knew who Jia was, but now that they do, they’llscrutinize and judge her.”
“You see it all the time in internet fandoms, or with the British royals, where the fanbases are passionate. It doesn’t help that we’re so obviously different from each other,” Jia said haltingly.
“I don’t care about any of that.” Just in case she had any doubt. He rubbed his thumb over his palm. “Chandu wasn’t totally wrong. If we’re engaged or married, I can protect Jia from the worst of it. I don’t like the way this part of the world works, but it’s reality.”
“What are you saying? That you let the engagement stand?” Rhiannon drew herself up. “That’s ridiculous.”
Dev took a step forward, then glanced between Jia’s annoyed roommates. “Rhiannon and Katrina, would you mind if I have a moment with Jia?”
“If we leave you alone, how else are you going to turn this into some soap opera?” Rhiannon asked. “Will you knock yourself on the head and get amnesia? Turn up with a secret twin?”
He deserved their ire, so he answered her sarcasm seriously. “Not at all. Please, I need to speak with Jia.”
Jia lifted her head. “It’s okay, guys. Dev and I have important things to discuss, like where we’re registered.”
He wasn’t the only one relieved Jia’s sense of humor was intact. Both Katrina and Rhiannon relaxed. They shot him warning looks and left them alone. He walked closer, then stopped, not eager to crowd her.
“Jia—”
“I know, you’re sorry.” Jia looked up at him. He was relieved to note that while her eyes were red, she wasn’t crying. “Can you sit down, my neck hurts.”
He’d do literally whatever she wanted right now. “Of course.”
She played with a thread on her shirt, twisting it around her finger. “I screwed everything up. These texts, that selfie of me at the beach. I should have been more discreet.” Her eyes grew wet, and whatever relief he’d felt quickly evaporated. “I can’t do anything right. Everyone’s going to know that now.”
“No, no. This has nothing to do with you.”
Jia continued like she hadn’t heard him. “I’m backsliding in my career. I’m too tired to generate any more content.” Her tears spilled over. “And now I’m engaged to the face of my catfish. I’m a complete failure.”
“You’re not a failure.” He patted in his pocket and found the handkerchief he always carried. He handed it to her, but she didn’t move to dab her tears. “Not one bit.”
“My family won’t see it that way.” She twisted the handkerchief in her hands. “This is going to be it. Confirm that I’m the family screw-up. I’ll have to move back home with nothing to show for my independence except the knowledge that everyone was right. I’m impulsive and reckless and don’t think and I can’t be trusted—”
“Hey.” Dev pulled Jia’s fists into his hands and looked deep into her watery eyes. “I don’t like you talking about my fiancée like that.”
She stopped for a second and stared at him, startled. Then she let out a weak half sob. It wasn’t her usual deeplaugh, but it would do.
He squeezed her hands. They were small and fragile in his. “Here’s what I think we should do,” he started, then paused. Because the answer that was so obvious to him was also possibly the most absurd one.
“What?”
“I think we should be engaged. For real.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”
Dev hadn’t known what certainty felt like until this very moment. Wasn’t this what he’d basically been angling for this morning in the car? Granted, he’d wanted to spend more time together before an engagement, but in the end, what did it matter?
He’d already made up his mind. Jia was exactly what he was looking for, and she’d fallen into his lap by pure chance. “I’m serious. I wouldn’t mind it,” he said. “I could see it. We would suit. I... admire you very much. I think we could have fun together, and I think we communicate well.”Say the mushy words in your head.No, he couldn’t. These all sounded like stilted reasons, but the other ones were far too flowery.
One good thing was that her shock had gotten rid of her tears. Her expressive eyes brightened for a second, but then they quickly shuttered. “You wouldn’t mind it,” she repeated, without inflection.
Uh-oh. He might be dense, but even he knew he’d chosen his words poorly there. “I mean, I think we could be a good match.” He breathed out a rough sigh. “Right now, our options are that we confess what actually happened, orwe claim that it was all real, the texts, our relationships. We can tell your parents the truth about the engagement being made up, that’s your choice, but if we don’t, my grandmother and Chandu won’t breathe a word.” The next words were harder to force out. “And if you decide we don’t suit, we can end the engagement. People will talk, but it won’t be the first wedding to be called off.”
“Wedding,” she repeated.
