"Aren't you going to say anything?"

She was vaguely aware that a question had been asked, but it sounded like it was coming from far away, a distant voice barely capable of penetrating the fog that was filling up her mind.

Within this fog was the cruel nostalgic playback of every single happy moment she'd experienced with every guy who wasn't Luc.

That's just cold feet.

The rare voice of reason inside Neela's head managed to break through the fog, allowing the table conversation to return to a clear and comprehensible volume.

She noticed Luc staring at her expectantly, his excitement cracking at the seams. It was he who had asked the foggy question, and finally her brain caught up to the fact that he was wondering why she didn't seem happy. She plastered on a smile.

As for the lack of uncertainty in her mind, it was now of a different sort. She looked over at Dad. "Are you really okay with this?"

Shockingly, he shrugged. "Once you moved to Paris, we knew you wouldn't marry a boy with an Indian background."

"We aren't dumb," Mom piped in, before turning her focus to Luc. "How much money do you make?"

Neela immediately cringed. "Mom!"

Luc's natural laugh was a welcome surprise. "Don't worry it is okay." He turned to Mom. "I am an executive at an investment firm, so the salary is quite good."

Neela reached over to supportively squeeze his arm, but she stopped short when she noticed Mom's eyes staring directly at her wildly promiscuous hand. She opted for an appreciative smile instead. G-rated to the max.

"If you didn't do this writing stuff you could make good money like him," Mom stated.

It took a second for Neela to realize she was suddenly in the middle of another episode of "The Judgy Files: Bhandar Edition." The added snort coming from Maneet's end of the table was a bridge too far.

"Really?" Neela said, her voice eerily calm in these final few moments before committing her first murder. "Really?"

Luc knew that voice all too well. "Anyway..." he said casually, determined not to turn this Indian restaurant into a crime scene. "My cousin is the director of a lovely château in the countryside," he went on, "and since you will all be in Europe for a few more weeks, I was thinking we could have an engagement party there."

Neela traded in her murderous glare for a look of utter confusion. "Huh?"

Luc ignored her and continued on with his possibly pre-planned speech. "This would allow you to meet my family, and also to see more of France!"

Neela tugged at Luc's shirt sleeve, now oblivious to whether or not this physical contact would make her Mom think she was a hussy. "Engagement party? You can't be serious." She let out a laugh of either cynicism or despair. "We can't plan an entire engagement party in a few weeks!"

"What is a...château?"

Mom's question came out of the blue, and the look in her eyes revealed that she was cautiously intrigued.

Luc smiled warmly. "A château is a castle, and you will love it." He turned his attention to Neela. "Don't worry about the planning, that is what my cousin is for."

Dad seemed concerned. "How much will all of this cost?"

Cost-center overages. The number-one worry of Indian dads the world over.

"Not to worry Mr. Bhandar," Luc said firmly. "I will take care of every expense."

With those few words, Luc had just unlocked the key to Dad's heart.

Neela studied the lovestruck gaze in Dad's eyes. "Why don't you just marry him then," she mumbled.

"What's that?" Luc asked. "I didn't hear you."

She cleared her throat and turned to him, a bold expression in her eyes. "I was saying that I'm not really sure why you didn't consult me, considering this is such a big decision."

Before Luc could defend himself, he noticed Mom nodding with pride. "I will be the first one of all my friends to go to a castle."

Neela rubbed her forehead in agony, as flashbacks of family conversations from the past poured in. No one listening to her...things just getting decided without her input; she thought she'd gotten past all this crap.

"Will Cinderella be at the castle?" Sonya asked.

Neela instantly smiled. Finally, a change in topic she could get behind.

Neela opened her mouth to respond, but unfortunately for her, Maneet got there first. "Cinderella won't be there," Maneet said flatly, "just an older lady who uhh...looks pretty bad to be honest."

It was the final straw.

Neela shoved Maneet from across the table.

"Stop fighting you girls!" Dad cried.

A glass of water tipped over in the sisterly fiasco, but luckily there was no human carnage. The only damaged was the look on Luc's face as he finally got to witness the down-home, trashy side of Neela. His eyes went wide and he swallowed hard.

To Luc's relief, the waiter arrived with various platters of food. As he set down the dishes, he immediately noticed the new addition to the table.

"Good afternoon sir," he said. "Would you like to see a menu?"

Luc surveyed the large portions on the table and shook his head. "I am sure we can all share."

He was of course prematurely 'sure,' as Dad slid the platter of chicken tikka masala away from Luc.

"You wouldn't like it," he said coldly.

Luc may have been the one paying for the entire engagement party, but getting to share Dad's order of chicken tikka masala?

Too soon.

***

The family and Luc emerged from the restaurant later that afternoon, bellies full and awkwardness mercifully at bay.

"Have you all had a chance to try the best macarons in Paris?" Luc asked, looking debonair as ever in that dashing blue suit.

Dad's go-to expression of 'foreign food phobia' found its way onto every inch of his stressed-out face. "What is that? Raw fish?"

Luc laughed. "No no, it is a very nice sort of...soft biscuit. And it has cream inside."

"I WANT BISCUITS AND CREAM!" Sonya cried, her desire as deafening as a sonic boom.

"Okay!" Maneet said, holding Sonya down by the shoulders to stop her from leaping into the air. "Jeez; what sort of kiddie cocaine was in that mango juice anyway?" She shook her head before turning to Luc. "Is there a La Durée around here? That's the go-to-place I'm always reading about."

No no no," Luc said, smiling in that patronizing way that was so typical of the French. "La Durée does not have the best macarons in Paris." He leaned forward. "It is in fact Pierre Hermé."

She clapped Luc on the back. "Okay so tell us how to get there, will ya?"

As he busied himself with his phone, Neela got close enough to whisper in Maneet's ear: "La Durée? Where'd you read that, in a guidebook?" She snorted and it was satisfying as hell, the sort of pettiness that can only exist between sisters.

"My friends have never tried a macaron," Mom declared out of nowhere. She was practically beaming. "I will be the first."

"The walk to get there is a little long," Luc announced. "I will call us a car."

As Luc opened up his ride app, Neela's own phone began to buzz.

She read the text and her expression immediately darkened.

It was a text from Dante, and the news wasn't good. It was in fact the sort of emotional S.O.S. that would cause the recipient to drop everything they were doing, and immediately set off on a rescue mission.

But could Neela actually do that?

She studied the scene around her.

What she saw was a family who had broadened their horizons enough to accept Luc, all within a matter of minutes. And there hadn't even been any embarrassing blow-ups!

It was nothing short of a miracle, and it was not the time to leave and ruin it.

But what about Dante? If she had been the one to send that message, he would've been there for her in a heartbeat.

She took a closer look at the scene.

The macaron anticipation on Mom's face...

Dad still relieved that macarons weren't raw fish...

Luc informing Gurinder that the van he'd specifically ordered to accommodate them all would arrive in three to four minutes...

Leave? Seriously?

Despite all her reservations, the friendship instinct kicked in from somewhere deep inside. Maybe it wasn't the same as a parental instinct, but it was an undeniable pull nonetheless.

Neela would cross the Atlantic Ocean one breaststroke at a time if she knew her best friend was in need.

And she didn't even know how to swim.

In reality that sort of blind dedication would result in a few crucial problems: being dead, not having helped the best friend who was in need, and the various types of other fallout that resulted from being dead.

But this wasn't an ocean that needed crossing. This was only halfway to the other side of Paris.

Neela shuffled over to Luc, subtle steps that went unnoticed by her family. She pulled Luc aside. "I have to go," she whispered.

Luc was overcome with surprise. He started to laugh. Until he realized she was serious "Go?"

"It's an emergency," she said anxiously.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I promise I'll explain everything later. But could you take them?" She gestured to the family. "Please?" When he didn't jump up and down enthusiastically, she added an encouraging smile. "It'll be like a bonding experience!"

He sighed. "Okay," he said, his voice completely emotionless. "Go do what you need to do."

She didn't feel right leaving Luc on such ice-cold terms. "When I explain it to you later," she said, "I know you'll understand." He nodded but he didn't say a word. "I'm really sorry," she added. "You've been amazing today, I mean it. Thank you."

A hint of emotion awakened his dead expression. "Today was an important day for our future," he said. "And I am glad that everything went well."

She smiled and squeezed his hand when she was sure Mom wasn't looking. "I'll be back as soon as humanly possible, and then we'll get to celebrate without the ol' chaperones."

He finally smiled and gestured for her to go. "Leave now and I will explain that you had a work emergency."

She raised an eyebrow. "Look at you, such a pro at lying to my family."

He smirked. "I learned this skill from the best."

She laughed before disappearing around the corner.

She called her own ride and waited for the car with a look of worry.

What state would her usually confident and bubbly best friend even be in? And would she actually be able to help?

Normally, Dante was always the one who was so sure of everything, whereas she was always the one who was usually a mess.

But now the tables had turned, and as she tapped her foot at a steady anxious beat, she seriously wondered if her minimal experience in offering support would actually make things worse...