She did not know him. Not really. Theirs was the beginning many couples in India know — three meetings with relatives in the room, tea cooling between them. A yes given before love had said its name. And now here they were, at the mandap, the priest chanting, the fire small and bright between them, their hands fidgeting in their laps because neither of them quite knew what to do with them.

When the moment came to slip the ring onto her finger, his hands trembled a little. She noticed. She always would. They exchanged a smile that was kind and slightly nervous — the smile of two people who had said yes to a life together before they had said yes to anything else.