Walking off the plane in Calgary is like pulling on my favourite pair of sweats. Everything is back to normal.

Well, not quite. I'm still stuck in an airport. But it doesn't take long before we're out of the airport into the cool evening air. Carla only made two cowboy jokes on the way through. Which is actually a miracle.

"Are you coming with us?" Lorena asks as we walk out the door. "Or you two are off already?"

"I parked my car at the long term parking," I remind her. "We'll take the shuttle there."

"And we can't persuade you to stay a night or two before heading out?"

"Lorena, it's going to be fine," I say, pulling her into a hug. "Thank you for worrying about me. I do love that about you. But I'll be fine."

"You're taking your own car, then?" Her head spins between me and Enrique a few times.

"Yes. I will be. Enrique took a bus here so it's the easiest for both of us."

Enrique's lip pulls up in a small smile that he hides behind his hand, pretending to scratch his cheek. "I'll take good care of her, Lorena," he says once he's composed himself slightly. "We're only an hour or so drive away if you want to come visit at some point."

He must see my death glare because he adds, "You can arrange it with my wife," and loops his arm through mine.

"I like you," Carla cuts in. "You might actually stand a chance at living with this one." She jabs her thumb in my direction and laughs.

"Oh, haha. I think you're hilarious."

"You won't scare me off, Carla," Enrique responds. "After all, I've already married her."

Carla lifts my hand and turns my empty ring finger around to face him. "Prove it."

"Carla!" Lorena and I call out together. "Stop!"

"He needs to know where I stand. If he's going to stay with you—"

I interrupt her with another death glare. My 'glare face' is really getting a workout today.

"If he's going to stay friends with you even, he should probably get used to me. Because you are stuck with me. So by extension, he is, too."

"Okay, we're going," Lorena pulls Carla by the arm and then leans in to kiss me on the cheek. "Keep in touch please."

"I'll be fine, Mom," I laugh, wrapping her in another hug. "I promise."

"I know," she laughs. "I'm just going to miss having you around at girls' night."

"Maybe I can drive in. We're not that far away."

I don't even have time to look at Enrique before his arm wraps around my back. "I think that would be a great idea."

"Okay, I'll text you. Divya and Raj are gone for a while, so we'll have to get by with just the three of us."

The amount of pleasantries they exchanged on the way to the taxi should actually be in the record books. You'd think one of them was dreading the idea of leaving the airport. Which can't possibly be true, because it's an airport.

Finally, Carla shoves Lorena into the back of a cab and we wave them off, still waiting for our shuttle.

* * *

It's only when we pull into my driveway that I realize my decidion to stop at home before heading to Enrique's might be a bad one. My car parked and turned off sends a bolt of fear through me. Suddenly the idea of bringing Enrique into my space feels like inviting him to peer into my soul. What on earth possessed me to think I could actually be married to him. Who made me think this could actually work?

Enrique slides his hand over on top of my own and gently squeezes. "It's going to be okay," he says, as though answering my unspoken questions. "We're just going to go inside and get you ready to go. We'll unpack and eat some dinner and do some laundry. It's all going to be just fine. If you need more time we can just go late tomorrow. I do have to work Tuesday, but I'm sure I can handle it even if we get back late."

"It's not that, actually. I'm sure I'll have plenty of time. It's just—"

He doesn't say anything, just sitting and patiently waiting for my thoughts.

"Will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me when I get stuck on my words!"

"What am I supposed to do? Not look at you when you're talking to me?"

"I don't know!"

"So, what's worrying you? Shall we head inside and not discuss it?"

"What's worrying me is that my house is in there. And I'm scared what you'll think of me when you see it."

"Is it painted some hideous colour?"

I shake my head.

"Are there illegal things in there?"

"No."

"Physics textbooks? Engineering courses? Hidden bridge-building projects."

"What? No! Of course not."

"Then I think we'll be okay." He pauses for a second to grab his bags out of the back seat. "Oh, no."

"What? Did we forget something?"

"No. I was just thinking. You aren't a dog person are you? If there's a dog in there I might sleep in the car."

He's completely put me at ease and he knows it. And I know it. But I'm not mad about it. "No, there's no dog in there. Come on."

I'm still laughing when I close the door and press the button to engage the locks. "If you laugh, you are sleeping in the car," I say, rounding the last corner to my house and walking straight into the face of my mother.

"This must be your husband," she says, not bothering to stand from where she's sitting on the steps.

"How did you—?"

"Divya's mother," she replies. "You had to know she would tell me about her daughter's wedding."

I didn't, actually, because I thought they weren't coming. And once they were there I was...

"Enrique Calderón, Ma'am." Enrique steps around me and extends his hand. "So sorry we couldn't meet before the wedding but I assure you—"

"Enrique, please let me handle this," I interrupt.

He looks back at me and must decide the easiest thing to do is accept my demands. So he nods and shakes my mother's hand. "I'm very glad to meet you, Mrs. Daleman, even if I wish it were under better circumstances."

And then he disappears back around the front of the house.

"You got married?" My mother starts again. "You hid a fiance from me for how long?"

"I didn't do anything of the sort," I protest, but she doesn't let me get a word in.

"You didn't get married? Mrs. Varma was lying to me?"

"I did get married. No. I did get married but it's not what you think we just... we weren't engaged at all, I don't think. We just woke up married in Vegas."

"You expect me to believe that you, Bianca Daleman, got drunk and married in Las Vegas?" She waits for me to contradict her and when I don't she adds, "Is this a joke?"

I shake my head, tears threatening to fall. "No, it's not a joke. I did one stupid thing and I ended up married. And with everything that's gone on, well, I don't know what to tell you."

"You really did get married?" she asks, dropping her chin into her hand.

"I really did."

"And you're going to stay married? Well I suppose you are if he's standing here at your house."

"Yes, Mama. I'm going to stay married." The words spill out of my mouth before my brain catches up to me. I hope Enrique doesn't hear me, because I'm not really sure if I'm going to stay married yet, and I don't want him getting his hopes up.

"And how is that going to look?" She breaks through my thoughts.

"How is it going to look to whom?"

Leave it to my mother to be concerned about what people will think.

"To you. How are you going to be married to each other? What does marriage look like?"

I don't know, Mother. All I know is I had a ring on my finger and several legal documents.

"Well?" She presses again when I leave the conversation in silence.

"Well, I'm not sure yet. That's what we're here for. To figure that out."

"Bianca this is too much. You can't marry someone you don't know. You can't commit your whole life to someone you've never met."

The fire of uncertainty flares again, but I can't let her know.

"Evidently I can," I say coolly. "Because I did. And there's nothing anyone can do about that now but choose whether to support us or not. I don't know what else I can say except to ask that you respect my decision. I know this is going to take some time to wrap your head around, but I do hope you'll come around and understand that Enrique is my husband."

Her stunned face is all I have by way of conversation. I never thought I'd see the day where my own mother was at a loss for words.

"And I really hope you understand why I'm trying to give this my best shot, and I hope you'll respect that. But the reality is I'm old enough to make this decision and it isn't yours to make. You'll show respect to Enrique and our marriage. Or at least glacial indifference. Because he doesn't deserve to be treated like that. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Bianca it isn't that I don't respect you, dear. It's that this isn't like you. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I am."

"All right." She stands up and straightens her jacket. "Then would you please introduce me to your husband?"

Not how I saw this going, but I'll take it.