And when the priest said, “Tanu, do you take Manu to be your lawfully wedded husband?” she replied, loud enough for the whole court to hear:
Tanu sat on the police station steps, defeated. Manu appeared with two cups of tea.
“You idiot,” she said, snatching the rose. “You absolute idiot.”
Tanu stared at Manu. Her eyes welled up—something they rarely did. Then she laughed. That loud, broken, beautiful laugh.
“So,” she said, popping a bubble. “Doctor. London. You here to rescue me from my middle-class misery?”
Tanu blinked. This was new. Usually, groans ran away.