We were both nervous. The awkward silences were broken by one syllable words and polite uneasy laughter. I tried to look into her eyes but she repeatedly avoided looking into mine. It was clear only one of us was here by choice and that person was me.
All my attempts at conversation were met with monosyllabic replies which stoked the growing frustration of my inability to make conversation with her.
I then thought “To hell with her antisocial abilities, she is beautiful, makes the perfect roti. I got the rest of my life to make her talk”
I then walked out of the room and nodded to my parents, and they started discussing about fixing a date of engagement with the girl’s parents. She stared at me incredulously, reminding me of the phrase ‘if looks could kill’
I walked back in the room and whispered to her “Please know that I am not a bad person, I’m just a victim of circumstances”
I lifted my toupee from my head and wiped my sweaty bald head, placed it back and walked out of the room to rejoin my family. I glanced back one last time at my bride to be, a solitary tear trickled down her left cheek.