‘I know, just let me rest, please.’ She left the room, closing the door behind her. I rolled my eyes, annoyed with myself for snapping at her. I closed my eyes again, allowing sleep to pull me into avoidance. Avoidance of my life, avoidance of my family, avoidance of getting better. Sleep was safe, everything else required me to use energy I didn’t have. The truth was that I preferred to stay in my sleep; here, I didn’t need to wake up to the nightmare my life had become. I didn’t need to battle my addiction. My life was a nightmare, one that I will admit that I had created. And sleep? Sleep was my safe place, away from the demons that chased me in my waking hours.

Voices in my house. A man’s voice. Was my father here? My bedside clock told me it was a quarter to five in the evening. I would normally be finishing my walk with Ashray now. Ashray. I oriented myself, recognising the voice as his. I must be dreaming, had to be imagining him in my home. He didn’t know where I lived. I rolled over, looking for my phone so that I could type him a message. He worried about so much, I didn’t want him worrying about me too. My phone wasn’t in its usual spot; Kavya must have taken it to schedule appointments. I groaned—as if more appointments were what I needed right now. A tentative knock on my door. I ignored it before realising that, to get my phone back, I would need to speak to Kavya.

‘Yes,’ I managed, my back still turned to the door.

I heard the door open slowly, and Ashray’s voice broke the silence.

‘Are you decent?’ I sighed, not wanting to deal with anyone right now.

‘Yes.’ He walked into my bedroom, looking around at the room decorated in white and gold.

‘Nice place you have here,’ he said, trying to remain casual. ‘You weren’t at Dr Shyam’s today?’

‘I don’t feel well,’ I told him.

‘Yeah, I don’t feel well either, a lot of the time.’

I was sure he would be smiling softly. I sat up in bed, knowing there was no way I could avoid this conversation with him.

‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Ashray. I am just so tired all the time.’

‘I think it’s called being human,’ he replied, trying to lighten the mood.

‘Something is wrong with my account, I don’t know what it is, and everyone wants a piece of me. It’s exhausting.’

‘Everyone wants a piece of you, or are you giving everyone a piece of you? It’s okay to say no sometimes, Jhanvi.’ His eyes searched mine for some sign that I understood what he was saying.