Eram was about to close the door behind him when he saw a reflection in the bathroom mirror that made him pause.

Gehna had crawled on all fours into the shower cubicle. She had wriggled out of her skirt and flung it aside. But pulling her top over her head while seated on the floor of the cubicle proved to be too challenging. She gave up and, only half undressed, reached up to turn the shower faucet.

If he was honest with himself, Eram had stopped because he had never seen her naked body before and the prospect of doing so now thrilled him. It made his vision swim and his breath come in short, heavy gasps. But he entered the bathroom again because—when he eventually managed to tear his eyes off Gehna’s thighs—he saw in the mirror that she was crying.

Eram didn’t wait to take his own clothes off. He checked that the water was comfortably warm for Gehna and then sat down beside her on the marble. Mascara ran dark tears down her cheeks, making her face look like it belonged on a Halloween goth queen.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said between soft sobs. ‘I’m just a fat, drunky mess and I fuck things up for everyone and you deserve someone better.’

‘I don’t want—’

‘No, you do, you do. One of those pretty Punjabi girls called Ritu or Shruti or somebody who is never sad and has long hair and says haanji-haanji all the time.’ Gehna’s voice was rising in pitch and volume. ‘I’m sorry I’m not Ritu or Shruti. I’m just a fat, moody cow—’

‘Shh, shh,’ Eram said, putting his arms around her. ‘It’s okay.’

Later, he would apologize. Later, when they were lying half-asleep next to each other with Okja on the telly bathing them in images of a frolicking super pig, he would tell her he was sorry for the mean things he had said. That he was an idiot for not seeing how his life was richer with her in it. That, to him, she was perfect. But, for now, it was enough to hold her close in the shower.

Water was all about them, water inside them. Eram could taste the saltiness of Gehna’s tears from where he had kissed her on the cheek.

Love, he thought, isn’t meant to fit comfortably into the available spaces of your life like a mid-size Hyundai in a parking lot. If it didn’t change anything, if it didn’t turn you inside out and leave you raw, if you never laughed so hard your stomach cramped or felt like every pop song ever was written for you, then was it really love? Sure, sometimes you went to jail. But it was worth it.

16

‘Goddamn,’ he overheard Gehna talking to herself. ‘What fresh hell is this?’