“Great.” She forces a deeper grin. Then grabs the cutting board and slides the peppers into the saucepan on the stove, any excuse to turn away and hide for a moment. She hasn’t swallowed a drop of alcohol since Sunil’s disappearance. The small, still voice inside her continues to warn against the path of forgetting, but it is getting fainter and fainter all the time, taped over by the voices that strengthen in its place.

“It’s Pinot Grigio—your favourite.” He fetches a couple of stemless glasses, gives the cap a twist and pours. “Here you are, darling.” As he holds out her glass, he glances at the Band-Aid on her palm, but doesn’t ask about it.

“Generous pour,” she says, as she takes hold of the glass.

“I reckon we’ve got loads to celebrate, don’t you?”

She orders herself to smile again. It is what a normal person would do. A normal person would have reason to be happy right now. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t true. That is the part no one needs to know but her. They toast and she swallows an ample mouthful. She had forgotten how good it tastes, forgetting.

While Nirav showers and changes, she finishes making dinner. Tosses the salad. Plates the pasta and sauce. Mixes together some olive oil and balsamic vinegar in a finger bowl for dipping their bread. A feast compared to how she has been eating, or rather not eating, recently. Her stomach awakens. This time she drowns its complaints with another swig of Pinot.

Their evening progresses like any other, as though she hasn’t spent weeks away. They eat dinner while seated across from each other at the island, balancing on ebony wooden stools. She picks at a small portion, pushing food around her plate more often than bringing her fork to her mouth. Nirav talks about a new project at work, but she can barely follow. They drink the rest of the wine. She likes how dull it makes her feel, less alert, less hyperaware. Another glass or two and she might even fall sleep before three a.m. without having to watch Buffy.

After supper, they move to the couch for tea and a couple of hours of television. Nirav wants to hold her in his arms. Wine makes him amorous. She loathes being touched but leans into his embrace regardless. It is what a normal person would do. A normal person would want to be close to their partner after spending weeks apart.

Before bed, she takes a scalding shower. Cries about the boy from the news, and Sunil, and her failures while the water burns tiny rivers over her skin. She welcomes the burn. She knows she deserves the burn. She knows she deserves worse.