We entered the terrace of our house, where plants were grown so densely it almost looked like a small forest. I love gardening, so my creativity was clearly visible everywhere. In the middle stood a small round table where nanna and I sat every day to drink tea and gossip about everything.

I said softly, "Kurchondi." (Please sit.)

He pulled the chair back and said,
"Ledu... first nuvve kurcho."
(No, first you sit.)

I stared at him — because that gesture? Total K-drama moment.

I sat down, adjusting my chunni, and then he sat too. Our eyes met after a few seconds of silence.

I said, "Miru em anukonu ante... nenu mundu matladavacha?"
(If you don't mind... can I speak first?)

He nodded, "Haa, haa."

The first sentence I said still echoes in my head. I think I'll remember it till the end.

I said, "Miru... naku crush, telusa?"
(You know... you're my crush.)

He was sipping tea and immediately dropped into a cough, almost spilling the cup. He looked completely shocked.

I quickly handed him tissues.
"Explain chesthanu... kashta nemmadiga vinandi."
(I'll explain... just listen calmly.)

"Last month Uma akka pelli jarigindi, gurthunda?"
(Last monthr Uma sister's wedding happened, remember?)

He asked, "Uma Priya?"

I nodded. "Haa, thane." (Yes, her.)

"Akada nenu first time mimalni chusanu. Na mundu... athaya—sorry, inka ala pilavacho ledo telidu—but haa, appude chusanu."
(I saw you for the first time there. Right in front of me was your mother—don't know if I should call her aunt or mother-in-law now—but that's when I first saw you.)

"Nanna emo telisinavale ani tiskuni vellaru. Miru emo pakana apadu varaku kurchoni apude vellaru."
(Nanna took me to greet her because she already knew our family. But by the time we went, you had gotten up and left for something.)

"Akka pelli emo 8 rojulu jarigindi."
(The wedding lasted eight days.)

"Inka nenu prati roju ready ayyi... mimalni chudatam."
(And every day I used to get ready hoping to see you.)

"But not even once... you looked back at me."

"Miru ala chudakapoyesariki koncham disappointed ayyanu," ani cheppa. "Kani enduko... mitho matladali ani anipinchindi, baga."

(When you didn't look back even once, I felt a little disappointed. But still, I don't know why — I strongly felt like talking to you.)

Aa maata cheppagane Arvind na vaipu ala chusadu — eyes close kuda cheyakunda. Na heartbeat mathram slow ga kaadu... periguthu vachindi. He was smiling, very slightly — chala subtle ga — nenu adi chusanu.

(The moment I said that, Arvind looked at me without blinking. My heartbeat started racing. He had a slight smile on his face — very subtle, but I noticed it.)

"Inka paiga," ani continue chesa, "nenu aunty ni kuda adiganu telusa — 'aa abbai enti ekkuva matladada?' ani."

(And on top of that, I even asked your mother — 'Doesn't that boy talk much?')

"Aappudu aunty annaru — 'aa abbai antha matladadu ammu, introvert anukunta' ani."

(That's when aunty told me — 'He doesn't talk much, Ammu, I think he's an introvert.')

"Naku appudu cheppala... 'valla abbai meere ani ani navvuthu cheppa. "Paiga adugudam anna Aa conversation eppudu raledu le."

(Should I have told her then that the boy was you? That conversation never really came up.)

"Nenu mee mother ani teliyakunda enni matladesano — gurthu kuda ledu entha ani."

(I spoke to her so much without even realizing she was your mother.)

"Kani edi aithe em... prasanna aunty ki nacha ga, adi chalu le ani anukunna."

(But anyway, if Prasanna aunty liked me, that was enough for me.)

Adi chepagane sudden ga thala ethi, ayya... em matladesthunna nenu ani baytki anukunna. Kani malli breath tiskoni, cheppatam continue chesa.

(Suddenly I lifted my head thinking — what am I even saying? But I took a breath and continued talking.)

"Your mother actually became close to me from those days. She herself told me you're an introvert... and that's why I took the initiative for this conversation."

"I thought you were ignoring me even though I was looking at you. So I never gathered the courage to talk to you."

"After the wedding, I thought of talking at least once... but you left before us."

"And after some days, my atha told me maybe you were like a brother. That's when I completely stopped thinking about you."

"Endukante... aa varsa ani telisakka... thappu ani anipinchi."
(Because after knowing that we are relatives... it didn't feel right to think like that.)

"So I stopped myself."

"Ante ma atha ki mi parents side relatives vunnaru anta," ani cheppa slow ga. "Anduke aa varsa anukunnadi anta."

(Actually, my atha thought that because there are some relatives from your parents' side.)

"Kani naku mathram ma nanna vaipu main. Aa lekkana chusthe... miru naku bava varsane avtharu," ani cheppa.

(But for me, my father's relation matters the most. According to that, you'd actually be my bava.)

"I know... 'bava' ante koncham cringe anipinchachu," ani chinna node chesthu cheppa chinna smirk icha. "Kani em cheyyalem, varsa ala vundi." Ani anna

(I know, the word 'bava' sounds a bit cringe. But what to do, that's how the relation technically is.)

"Paiga nanna sambandam gurinchi cheppinappudu, 'ila architect aa abbai, Italy lo untadu' ani chepparu thappa,"

(And when nanna told me about the match, he only said 'that boy is an architect and lives in Italy'.)

"Prasanna aunty gurinchi mathram em mention cheyyaledu."

(He didn't mention Prasanna aunty at all.)

"But asala expect cheyaledu... nenu mire pelli koduku ani."
(I never expected you would be the groom.)

"Nanna chepparu... 'ila atha varsa avtharu, pellichupulki vasthunnaru' ani."
(Nanna said your family is coming with a proposal.)

"Nenu emi 'naaku pelli vodhu' ane type kaadhu. I actually like having more people around me... building a big family."

"That's why when nanna said, 'Pelli chesko ammu,' I agreed immediately. I didn't ask who it was."

"Endukante... ee prapancham lo naku manchi chedu enti, evaru ani ayyana alochinchakunda emi cheyyaru. Nanna matrame 27 years nannu pamper chesi, garamga pencharu. Ayana cheppedi, chesedi tappu kadhu ani nenu nammuthanu."
(Because on this whole earth, the only person who knows what's good or bad for me is him. He raised me warmly for 27 years, never denying anything I asked. So I didn't question him at all.)

"Ila intha matladuthunna ani em anukokandi."
(Don't think I'm talking too much.)

"Nenu koncham inthe extrovert... anni chepestha, em vunchukokunda."
(I'm a bit extroverted, so I say everything openly.)

"'Enti ila matladuthundi?' anukovaddu."
(Don't think, 'Why is she talking like this?')

Before I could finish, he stopped me gently.

"Nenu em anukovatledu, Devika."
(I'm not thinking like that, Devika.)

"Okati adagana ninnu..."
(I want to ask you something...)

I lifted my round eyes and said, "Haa...?"

He asked, with a shy smile:

"Ninnu... nenu kuda 'ammu' ani pilvacha?"
("Can I also call you by your nickname?")