“Damn skippy, we need a miracle!” Jameson’s eyes glittered with determination as he stood up and lifted Prandi to her feet. She hugged him fiercely, suddenly, burrowing her face in his chest.

“Uh, Prandi? You OK there?”

“PmphI can’t pmphlieve pmphI said pmphat…”

Jameson titled up Prandi’s chin. “What did you say?” he asked tenderly. She sighed and tried again: “I can’t believe I said that.”

“Said what? And don’t you go hiding again, Prandi. There is absolutely nothing you should be ashamed about in front of me.”

Another great sigh escaped Prandi, and then the words tumbled out all at once in a rush: “What I said about us getting married. I used to think I was anti-tradition, so unlike my cousins who got married at sixteen and had their first child at the same age. I thought I was better than them. Turns out I want the same things… Just not the arranged marriage part.”

Jameson scratched his chin, suddenly realizing the fact that the thought of marrying Prandi wasn’t making him head for the hills.