Mission Love (Completed)

Twelve

Recap: My parents came to meet my 'boyfriend'

I took a step back to admire my work. It wasn’t exactly the stuff of Pinterest, but given the frantic state I’d been in since getting home, it was impressive. I’d managed to clean the apartment, do my laundry, cook dinner for four—Go figure—clear the dishes, and set the table. The apartment, though cosy (read: tiny), was spotless, and I’d even rearranged the couches to carve out what little space I could.

Everything was ready. Except me.

Now I just had to wait. And waiting? Waiting was where everything goes sideways for me. My mind started running through all the possible ways tonight could end in flames. I called Mom, and she said they were fifteen minutes away. Fifteen minutes? I let out a shaky breath.

I was about to pull off the performance of a lifetime. It’s just a little white lie. Right?

My heart was leaping at irregular intervals, as if it knew that tonight was going to be a disaster in the making.

I could already see the evening unfolding in my head: Mom, glowing with excitement, dropping hints about wedding dates, and Dad eyeing Naveen like he’s there for a job interview—basically anything that screams "good son-in-law material."

If all went well, Dad wouldn’t object, and Mom—well, I could practically see her ready to whip out the bridal magazines the minute she heard about my boyfriend.

But my "boyfriend"—the one person who should’ve been helping me get our stories straight. The person who could either make or break this ridiculous plan—wasn’t even here.

I stared at my phone, willing it to buzz. I had texted him, too, in case he somehow forgot about the meeting:

"Hey Naveen, I was hoping you'd come sooner, before my parents. We need to talk."

Sent.

But it's still marked as sent. I hadn't heard from him since then. It's been an hour or so.

Fantastic. This was going well. So well.

I tossed the phone onto the couch and started pacing, trying to figure out all the up-and-coming questions.

Like... How did we meet?

Maybe at a café? No, too cliché. Work? Maybe we "bonded" over stressful projects?

No, that would sound even weirder.

We needed something believable.
Like maybe we met through mutual friends?

But who? Dina? I winced. Dina would definitely laugh her head off if I tried to rope her into this mess.

What if Mom asked for more details?

Oh god, she was definitely going to ask for details. She’d want the whole story—how we met, how we fell in love. And if I didn’t have something that sounded even remotely convincing, she’d see right through me.

Shit!

I paused my pacing for a second.

How about... I faked an emergency and cancel dinner?

But that would only delay the inevitable. And worse, it would raise suspicion. If I bailed tonight, Mom and Dad would just double down on trying to find me a "suitable match" without wasting a single moment.
Just like Dhruv.

Many more Dhruvs would be tossed my way, and the only way I could avoid all that marriage talk was to pretend I’d chosen my probable husband.

No, It'll be fine. It should be fine.