Before Rian could stop her, Aditi proudly added, “He owns several. He is a very hard worker and he did it all by himself. And he’s going to get his second Michelin star this year.”
Warmth suffused him. Undoubtedly, she would be his fiercest cheerleader.
“It's still under review,” he mumbled, trying to control this surge of adoration he felt for her every time he so much as looked her way. “It isn’t guaranteed.”
“You’ll get it. I’m certain.”
Mr. and Mrs. Krishnan didn’t seem to care about the material wealth he owned. “I guess Aditi wouldn’t have to cook. She’d be tired after her shifts at the hospital,” her mother explained to her father, who was nodding along.
“Okay. Chef is fine,” he announced. “What about your family?”
“My grandmother is the only close family I have. And my friends who are standing with her.” Kaya, Arjun and Vihaan politely nodded to everyone, smiling as some of the cousins waved their hellos.
“Your mother and father?”
Aditi’s hand squeezed his, her look telling him that he need not reveal everything.
“My father is deceased,” he answered, taking a moment before he continued, “and my mother is not in the picture.”
He saw Aditi’s parents exchange an indecipherable look.
“The family I will make with your daughter is my only priority. With your permission, I would like to marry her and gain a family.”
Her mother melted instantly.
“And if we don’t give permission?” Mr. Krishnan asked before being swatted on the arm by his wife. “What?” he grunted, his moustache twitching in annoyance. “He kissed my daughter in front of my eyes. I’m going to need to soak my balls in bleach.”
Aditi groaned, and Rian was too shocked to laugh. Some of the family members sniggered, their whispers increasing in volume.
“What?” Mr. Krishnan looked around, frowning. “Did I say something wrong?” He turned to a young boy standing near him, presumably his nephew, and tipped his chin up. “Did I not say it right?”
The boy, barely a teen, pushed his spectacles up with a single finger. “It’s ‘wash your eyeballs in bleach’, uncle, not your actual balls.”
Rian saw Arjun turn away, an odd choking noise erupting from him. Kaya had hidden her face against her husband’s bicep, her body shuddering silently.
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Mr. Krishnan blustered. “Why would I soak my balls in bleach? But I guess I have had all the children I need so it doesn’t matter which set of balls I soak.”
Vihaan lost the battle to be polite and went into a violent coughing fit, half his face covered by his arm and his eyes glimmering with an unholy mirth.
Hisfriends had deserted him, Rian realised. Completely useless, the whole lot of them. He didn't know why he bothered to bring them along. He was going to dump them all the minute he figured a way to escape this conversation.
“Please stop talking,” Aditi begged.
“About balls or about you?”
The earnestness with which Mr. Krishnan asked this question only made Rian pinch himself on his thigh, curbing the urge to chortle. He was not going to have his future father-in-law dismiss him as a disrespectful brat. His eyes teared up when he pinched himself hard enough to leave a bruise.
“Appa, porum!” Aditi cried, having turned a brilliant shade of red. Fascinated, Rian noted this down for the future, curious to see if he could generate this colour on her in passion.
“Oh, you’re embarrassed about your Appa talking about his balls but not about kissing your boyfriend in front of us all?” her mother calmly asked in defence of her husband.
“Amma!”
“Aunty,” he interrupted, ready to shield Aditi if needed. “I’m her fiancé, not boyfriend. And the kissing was entirely my fault. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass anyone.”
“You’re sorry for kissing my daughter? Why? Do you not love her?” Mr. Krishnan snarked immediately, skewering him with a look that made Rian realise that there was no correct answer. He simply had to subject himself to this torment and let their annoyance run its course.
“Kanna, are you sure about this guy? He seems flaky,” one of her aunts commented.