“She’s getting married next week,” I tell her, the words bittersweet. “It’s an arranged marriage, but that marriage will fix what time couldn’t.” “How can you be so sure?” she asks, sounding skeptical. I grin at her, relieved to find some luster back in her voice. It’s ridiculous how beautiful she still is despite the tears that stain her face. Her pain hasn’t dulled her gorgeous hazel eyes at all. “Because the man she’s marrying truly loves her as much as she loves him, even though they both claim to hate each other. Someday, you’ll find someone who loves you the same way—unconditionally,
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