Too Good To Be True

Aman

If you didn’t know it already, I’m in love.

‘You’re up early,’ I said, walking into Avani’s apartment.

‘Barely,’ she whispered as she settled into a chair and reached for the cup of strong Americano I’d set down on her dining table. ‘I’m so sorry about last night.’

Here she was, my girl, with her morning hair and sleepy eyes, looking exactly like I’d left her in her bed the night before. Gorgeous.

I grinned as I tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘You don’t have to apologize. It was fun.’

‘It’s not fun now … for me! I don’t remember much after we left your library, and my friends are really unhelpful in these situations. I did something stupid, didn’t I?’

‘Define stupid.’ I raised my eyebrows for effect.

‘Ohhhh god,’ she lowered her face into her palms and whined.

‘It’s fine, really,’ I said. ‘You were drinking and having a great time. It’s normal. Everyone does it.’

‘Not everyone … You don’t do it!’

‘Yeah, well, but I get to do something better!’ I bent down and whispered in her ear, ‘I get to watch you do it.’

‘nnn!’ she cried, looking at me now, half-smiling.

‘Hey!’ I held her face in my hands till her eyes met mine. ‘Stop overthinking it. You were being really cute.’

‘Yeah? Was I cute before or after I licked your biceps?’ Her smile had disappeared again.

I pursed my lips to hold back my laughter and looked into her eyes. I didn’t think she would remember that, honestly.

‘During.’ I nodded and narrowed my eyes.

She folded her arms on the table and buried her face in them. I laughed and placed a soft kiss in her hair.

‘Drink the coffee and lots of water. And there are donuts in the box. Eat them. You need the carbs.’

‘You’re leaving?’ She looked up at me. Was that sadness in her eyes?

For a second, I thought of pulling my phone out to call Sheryl and ask her to move my meetings by an hour, but we had a big day at work and Papa was joining us on a call in exactly forty minutes. ‘Got to get to work, baby,’ I said softly. ‘But I’ll call you after?’

I gave her one last look and started walking towards the door when I saw something moving in the kitchen. I stopped in my tracks and peered in that direction. ‘Avani, don’t freak out, but I think there’s something in the kitchen,’ I said, taking a cautious step towards it.

‘It’s just Martin. He stayed over,’ she said, without looking up from her coffee cup.

That was strange … He’d been here all this time? I’d dropped him off last night at Jogi’s apartment for their after-party. When had he got here?

‘Martin!’ she called out. ‘’s here with donuts!’

‘Hey, man.’ Martin walked lazily out of the kitchen in his boxers. ‘Thanks for the donuts. We needed them.’

‘No worries, man. I hope you guys feel better soon. See you later.’

I began to walk out, then looked over my shoulder from the doorway. ‘And Avani?’

‘Hmm?’ She looked up.

‘You can lick my biceps anytime you like.’

She smiled coyly and bit her lower lip. ‘Be careful what you ask for, Raina.’

I chuckled and pulled the door shut behind me as I left her apartment.

I looked back at the door as I waited for the elevator, thinking about the night before, when I’d last stood in front of it.

The door was made of dark wood and had a hand-painted plank hanging at the centre with her name on it.

A colourful decorative hanging with little bells at its ends hung along the top of the door frame.

It looked like it was handmade.

Large planters with tall plants flanked the door on both sides, and a wooden shoe cabinet placed along the left wall had smaller plants on it.

Last night, when I’d practically had her hoisted on my shoulder while I dug into that bottomless bag of hers for her keys, she’d told me what each one of those plants was called.

I entered the lift as it arrived and met Ashok in the car, unable to stop smiling as I remembered the conversation.

‘You want to know what they’re called?’ she’d slurred, waving her hand loosely at the plants.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘This one is Pintu. That one is Chhotu and this one is Ramesh,’ she had introduced, her voice brimming with pride.

Right. ‘What about the others?’ I’d asked.

‘I don’t know. You and I left the party, silly …’

I’d let out a small laugh as my fingers finally found her keys.

I unlocked the door and almost keeled over as a sleepy Avani put her full weight on me as I carried her inside.

I had never really asked her if she lived alone or with parents or a roommate.

But I knew I couldn’t let her go home alone in this state.

Her living room was warm, comfortable.

More plants, colourful rugs, a navy blue couch piled with cushions and larger cushions strewn on the floor, and a large, framed painting of a mountain range hung above the couch.

Beyond the room was a balcony with more plants and what looked like a swing chair.

‘If you’re planning a heist, jewels are on the fatroom boor,’ Avani said, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

‘Nice to know that the alcohol hasn’t affected your memory as much as it has your speech,’ I replied, grinning. ‘Come on, let’s get you to bed.’ I tried to pull her off the floor, where she had settled right after we’d entered her home.

‘Oh, , how do you always know the right things to say?’

I shook my head and bent down to put her arm around my shoulder. She looked into my eyes and put both her arms around my neck instead.

‘Now would be a nice time to read my mind, Raina.’ She’d looked at me with half-open eyes and a gorgeous smile.

How I’d wished I could hold her face in my hands and kiss her, but I’d much rather she remembered every detail about our first kiss. So I bent lower, put my arm under her thighs, lifted her up and threw her over my shoulder in one swift motion. I liked how easily her body fit on mine.

‘Okay. World is spinning,’ she said. ‘Loving the view, though.’

‘Oiii!’ I reacted when she slapped my ass with both her hands. ‘Behave!’

She giggled and held on to my waist.

I entered her bedroom, turned the lights on and slowly lowered her on the bed.

She threw her shoes off and got comfortable under the covers.

She looked at me with mischief in her eyes and as much as I was tempted to get in next to her so I could hold her as she drifted off to sleep, I knew it would be too soon—and she was very drunk.

I kneeled on the floor next to her bed and ran my fingers through her hair.

‘You’re okay?’ I asked softly.

‘I am now …’ She shut her eyes almost immediately. I stayed there looking at her for a couple of minutes, then I stood up, flicked the lights off and walked out of her apartment.

‘Good morning, sexy.’ My customary morning greeting always got Sheryl smiling. I picked up the folder she’d kept ready on her desk, and entered my cabin. Sheryl followed.

‘How was your night?’ she asked casually.

‘It was great. How was yours?’ I asked.

‘Not much happened after I left your party.’

‘So, you and Ma didn’t spend an hour discussing Avani last night?’

‘She told you? We had decided not to tell you that we think you two make a cute pair.’

‘She didn’t, actually … You just did.’ I laughed. ‘Shall we?’ I asked, holding the folder up.

‘Yes, please. The boardroom has been set up. Everyone should be there in the next five minutes.’

The rest of the day was one meeting after another. I barely got time to breathe. Finally, at 3 p.m., when I took off my jacket and sank into my office chair, exhausted, I noticed my breakfast sitting on my desk, next to my lunch and afternoon smoothie.

I loved days like this at the office. Full and productive. Strategizing, brainstorming, closing loops, filling gaps, learning more about each aspect of the business just by watching Papa do his thing. I used to be messy about planning my day until Sheryl took over my professional life, and now everything was arranged in colour-coded order on my calendar.

I’d just taken a sip of the smoothie and opened my laptop to check my e-mails when my phone pinged.

Avani: YOU clicked all those pictures of me and sent them to my friends?! The deceit! No wonder you weren’t in any of them.

Me: Haha. We needed proof. Because there was no way anyone would’ve believed the things you did if there weren’t any pictures.

Avani: Okay … I’m going to stop asking about your party now because I’m not enjoying a single thing I’m being told! How’s your day been?

Me: Busy. Yours?

Avani: Will head to the bookstore now. Head’s not spinning so much any more. Thanks for the coffee and the donuts this morning.

Me: Any time. Happy reading. :)

Avani: You too!

Avani: I mean, happy working.

I smiled and put my phone down to go back to my e-mails. A minute had passed before my phone pinged again.

Avani has sent a photo.

I opened my chat box and downloaded it. It was a picture of me with a huge wet stain on my crotch from the time at the party when someone had run into me and spilt their drink all over me. I looked disgusted, but also like I’d peed my pants.

Me: Touché. :D

Avani: You’ve met your match, Raina. ;)

She was right about that.

20 April 2023

Avani

This can’t be real.

After the very happening alcohol overdose, I was grateful for a slow Thursday at home.

Exams were upon us, so classes had become more infrequent from this week and we were expected to have our noses buried in our textbooks.

The last few days had been rather mundane.

Just the regular home-bookstore-classes-home routine, peppered with flirty message exchanges with .

In between telling me I was gorgeous at least three times a day, he’d tried to explain to me in detail what he did in office—I understood the CEO part but my mind wandered when it came to the financial nitty-gritty of his work.

Instead, I imagined how perfect he would look when he was sitting at his desk discussing important stuff and the company’s future with his colleagues, and unbuttoning and rebuttoning his jacket between meetings.

I’d called Martin early this morning, right after rescuing my milk packet before it became Mhatre Kaka’s cat’s post-breakfast snack, and let him know that I was taking the day off from the bookstore.

He’d whined about it for a bit, but then shut up when I told him I needed some time to study for the exams—and be on my own for a bit.

I also messaged Rhea to ask if she could cover my shift for the day.

Luckily, she was free and agreed.

From the time I’d been a child, alone time had been important to me, especially when I needed a breather from the world to clear my head.

At one point, dealing with my dysfunctional relationship with my parents had got so overwhelming that it had started affecting my schoolwork and my relationship with my friends.

With gentle nudges from Aaji, I’d realized I needed to realign myself to make my own well-being my priority.

The last few weeks had been a lot.

University had been tough, I was slightly behind on my classes, I’d let someone new enter quite deeply into my life, and I missed home. This morning, I’d woken up tired and decided I needed to disengage for a bit.

It was 8 a.m.

and I was still in bed, scrolling through my social media feed, when my phone buzzed and Aaji’s name flashed on the screen.

I answered immediately.

‘Hi, Aaji! Good morning!’

‘Good morning, my dove. How are you?’

Listening to Aaji’s voice always put a smile on my face.

I missed her every day since I’d moved to Mumbai from her home in Pune.

When my parents had separated, Aaji had taken me in when I refused to stay with either of them.

Not that I didn’t want to live with Mamma or Baba—they had tried really hard to convince me I should be with one of them—but I never felt as close to them as I did to Aaji.

‘I’m okay. Took the day off from work. How’s your back?’

‘Good enough to get back to my plants. You should see the garden, Avani. It’s abloom! I’m glad you’re taking time off for yourself. How are your classes going?’

‘Classes are good. It’s a slow semester and I have to catch up a bit. And work at the store has been good too.’

‘Good, good. I’m so proud of you for working at such an early age.’ I could tell she was smiling.

‘I’m twenty-three, Aaji. People start working as early as seventeen these days. Besides, I’m just working because I can’t get enough of the bookstore.’

‘Avani, love, never do that. Never make yourself believe less about what you do. You work there because you like being independent and want to support yourself while you live in that big, scary city.

Also, don’t take my bragging rights away, please! All my friends cry about how their grandchildren are milking them for international trips, and I show off all the gifts you send me.

Thank you for the smoothie-maker, dove. I love it. I use it every day.’

‘Don’t thank me, Aaji! I miss you. I’ll come see you next weekend … or maybe the one after that.’

‘Come any day you want. Let me know a day before so I can shop for all the things you like to eat,’ she said. ‘Okay, listen, I am going to hang up now. Have to go to yoga class with my friends.

Did you know they have puppies now at the classes? They are so cute. Accha, chalo … Love you, my dove.’

‘Ha ha ha! Send me photos! Love you, Aaji. Bye.’

I hung up, my heart quite full.

It was a bright, clear day and the Mumbai sun wasn’t being the worst.

So I jumped out from under the covers, made my bed, put my phone on charge, brushed my teeth and made my way to the kitchen for a cup of tea.

I placed the cup and the new book I was reading on a tray and took it to the balcony, dragging along a floor cushion behind me.

I settled in next to my beautiful potted palm, the sun shining just enough for me to enjoy it on my legs while the blue-and-white extendable canvas shade shielded the rest of me from it.

You know what I love about a good romance novel, especially a deliciously written dark romance, like the one in my hands now? That everything wrong and toxic in the real world seems so legit and obvious in the fictional one it creates.

Of course the male protagonist killed the server who’d dared to look down his captive fake girlfriend’s blouse while pouring her wine.

Of course he burnt the server’s body in the restaurant’s oven but only after he’d plucked out his victim’s eyes to keep them as souvenirs.

And of course the girl loved him all the more because of how protective and possessive he was being about her.

Fuck the girl, I had begun to love how protective and possessive he was being.

Just the thought of how much I was enjoying the book suddenly put things in perspective for me.

As much as I loved a good romance novel, sometimes a little more than the next person, it was scary how a well-written one could toy with your brain and make you feel things that were not real.

Which didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get right back to the book and finish it …

A good hour later, my mind properly shaken by what I’d been reading, I staggered to the kitchen for another cup of tea.

While the water boiled, I heard furious mewing from outside the main door and felt generous enough to give Mhatre Kaka’s perpetually hungry cat a bowl of milk in the hope that she would spare the pack left at my door at least once that week.

I took the steaming cup of tea to the bedroom and picked up my phone from the bedside table.

There was a message from Rhea telling me she was at the bookstore, along with a photo of a new shipment that had just arrived.

I had been waiting to unbox and shelve a carton of books for over a week, so I made her text-promise me that she would leave this one for me to do as well.

I also had a message from a certain broody sex bomb whom I hadn’t stopped thinking about.

: Good morning, gorgeous. :)

Me: Good morning, you.

: Reached the bookstore?

Me: Took the day off.

: Is everything okay? Are you okay?

I smiled at the screen, twirled on my toes and lay down on my bed. Everything else could wait.

Me: I’m fine. Just taking the day off. It’s been a long few weeks. I just wanted to stay in and read and eat and then read some more.

: Hmm. What are you reading?

Me: This mafia romance in which the main guy kidnaps the girl he likes and forces her to marry him, or he will kill her brother. And then they fall in love.

: Okay. It was nice knowing you. Have a great life.

Me: Hahaha, shut up! It’s a fun read. It’s called fiction for a reason, you know?

: Wow. Dark.

Me: What are your plans for the day?

: Nothing much. Standing in my kitchen waiting for the coffee pot to fill as I text you. Might make some breakfast and stay in. Not going to the office today. Will work from home, I think.

Did he just hint that he’s almost free today? Should I suggest we meet?

If he wanted to meet, he would’ve asked you. He wouldn’t go about dropping hints.

I could invite him over …

You don’t want it to look like you’re hinting at something else.

I just don’t want to leave home today … And why are you making this so difficult?

: Where did you go?

Me: I’m here … sorry. So, not much happening with you today then?

: Nope.

Me: Just staying home and drinking coffee?

: Yep.

Me: Fun fun.

Fun fun? WTF? My small-talk abilities were clearly non-existent.

: Avani?

Me: Yes?

: Yes, I would like to hang out today. Do you feel like it?

I tapped my phone to my forehead and laughed to myself. How did I not expect this guy to see right through me? He’d been doing it ever since we’d first met.

Me: I don’t want to leave the house.

: Okay, coming over with supplies.

Me: Supplies?

: I’m making you breakfast. :)

Me: Careful, Raina, you’re going to ruin all the other guys for me.

: Baby, there will be no guys left when I kill them one by one for looking in your general direction.

Me: Welcome to the dark side. :)

: See you in a bit. ;)

This guy does NOT cease to surprise me. He was kidding with that line, quoting a classic dark romance hero, right? He had to be. He wasn’t the type to be into dark romances.

Either way, just the fact that he’d said the words made him a hundred times hotter. I re-read his message a few million times and made a mental note to listen more and picture him naked less when he got here. I’d be chill.

Forty minutes later, when my doorbell rang, I held myself back from leaping out of my couch and letting him in.

Glad you have the ‘chill’ thing going well, Avani.

I opened the door to see a dimpled face grinning at me from behind paper bags full of food supplies. Oversized white tee, black shorts, the coolest Birkenstocks, wet hair, the smell of aftershave.

‘You showered?’ I said with my mouth half open.

‘Hello to you too.’ He placed a soft kiss on my cheek and walked past me into the house, strode straight to the kitchen and deposited the bags on the counter. I locked the door and followed him.

‘I’m not allowed to shower?’ he asked, taking things out of the bags and placing them on the counter.

‘It’s no-work-no-classes day for me. I don’t shower on days off. I feel filthy standing here when you smell like a god,’ I said, perhaps a little irritably.

He gave me a hearty laugh. ‘I worked out this morning, baby. I had to shower. Also, you look adorable. Morning bed hair might just be my favourite look on you. Can’t wait to see it more often.’

‘I’m going for a shower.’ I rolled my eyes and turned to leave the kitchen when he gripped my wrist and pulled me towards him, swivelling me around. I gently hit his hard-as-fuck torso and my hands landed on his chest. He let go of my wrists and placed his hands on my waist.

I hadn’t even brushed my teeth, I thought in panic. Or had I? He leaned in and my eyes closed on cue.

This is it. This is how it happens.

I could smell his aftershave as his warm breath hit the column of my neck. I tilted my neck back slightly so I could line my lips with his and took in a short breath. Electric currents channelled from my chest to my knees. If hadn’t had his hands on my waist, I would’ve fallen to my knees, and—

Fuck, Avani, not now.

I swallowed the lump in my throat to bring myself back to sanity and give in to whatever was about to happen, when I was swiftly scooped off the floor and placed on the kitchen counter. My eyes opened to see ’s face inches away from mine, his hands placed on the counter on either side of me.

‘You’re gorgeous, you know that?’ he whispered.

‘I might’ve heard that every now and then, yes,’ I teased.

‘You’ll hear it more often now.’ He stayed as he was, studying my face while I explored his. His curls fell loosely on his forehead. His dreamy brown eyes stayed locked with mine. I wondered what it would be like to run my fingers along his jawline. And his hairline. And his shoulders. And …

‘Okay!’ He straightened up without warning. ‘Eggs and French toast sound good?’

I swallowed and nodded.

‘Coming right up.’ He started opening the cabinet drawers and the fridge, and arranging the eggs, milk, cheese and bread, among other things.

Help him, Avani!

Maybe I should have jumped off the counter and helped him chop and prep. But my limbs didn’t respond. I had a hot, dreamy guy in my kitchen cooking breakfast for me on a lazy Thursday morning.

This could not be real.

‘So … what’s your thing?’ I asked in the general direction of the kitchen.

‘Huh?’ asked, peeking out from behind the fridge’s half-open door, from where he was taking out a bottle of water.

We had just finished one of the best breakfasts I’d ever had. French toast and masala omelette, both perfect. I’d devoured massive portions of both in silent admiration, groaning like … never mind what … and had now finally arrived at putting into words the questions swirling in my mind for a few weeks.

‘Do you have a huge toe? Or a chalk-eating obsession? Or are you a murderer?’ I asked.

‘What are you asking, exactly?’ He laughed, drying his hands on the kitchen towel. He settled in on the sofa and patted the seat next to him, inviting me to his side.

I padded over and sat down facing him, with my legs tucked under my butt.

‘Am I a murderer?’ He pretended to ponder, mischief in his eyes. ‘Why? Are you into that?’

‘Depends. What do you prefer? Halal or jhatka?’

He laughed loudly. ‘Wow, I can’t ever predict what’s going to come out of that mouth of yours.’ He continued laughing.

‘It’s a valid question, you know. How do you kill your victims? Quickly?’

‘I’m very much a poison-your-victims-by-cooking-them-breakfast kinda guy … How are you feeling? A little dizzy?’

‘Maybe,’ I sniggered.

‘Good, then. I must be really good at what I do.’ He tugged at my chin as I kept looking at him. ‘I need to know, though. Why do you ask?’ His face turned serious.

‘Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.’

‘I don’t follow.’ He creased his brows.

‘I don’t know how to explain it.’

‘Please try.’

‘Being with you is like being in a public washroom.’

‘Wow, baby. That wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked you to talk dirty to me,’ he mused.

‘No! I mean, it’s like when you’re in a public washroom and you’ve latched the door shut but the minute you’re butt-naked, squatting over the toilet, you fear someone’s going to barge in and see you. Like, I know I’ve locked the door, I’ve double-checked, but I still worry about flashing an unsuspecting aunty. You know?’

‘I really, REALLY don’t.’

‘What I mean is …’ I said slowly, ‘nobody is this perfect. There’s got to be something wrong with you.’

‘There are many things wrong with me.’

‘Tell me one thing that you don’t like about yourself. Anything.’

‘Let’s see … For one, I don’t like that I don’t take time out often enough to visit my parents in Mussoorie.’

I was going to exclaim that that hardly cut it, but the expression on his face made me pause. Gently, I asked, ‘You miss them?’

‘Every day.’

He looked at his fingers caressing mine. Slowly, he brought mine to his lips. ‘Don’t you miss home?’

‘I do. Every day, like you. I might visit my Aaji next weekend in Pune.’

‘Oh, tell me about her.’

Growing up, I was always confused while talking about my family life with friends, peers, colleagues or just about anybody. I didn’t know how to put my life into words.

My parents had separated, but they remained cordial and shared responsibilities when it came to me. I lived with my grandmother, away from both my parents.

And now I lived by myself. It was the ‘whys’ that I never had answers to. Why did my parents separate? Why hadn’t I chosen to live with either of them?

‘She’s everything to me. She raised me in her home in Pune till I decided to move to Mumbai for further studies. I miss her … a lot …’

‘And what about your parents? Are they in Pune too?’

‘No, they aren’t.’

I knew he wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but he didn’t push further. From what little I knew of , he had picked up on my refusal to answer the question.

The rest of the afternoon went by lazily. We watered the plants. I introduced him to Shanta Tai, who winked at me and gave me a (very uncharacteristic) thumbs-up in approval as soon as had turned away. We went through the naughty covers of various kinds of romance novels and a gazillion photos of ’s dogs on his phone.

This was not how I’d expected my Thursday to go.

My plan was to eat the previous night’s leftover Chinese takeout from the fridge and spend the day reading in bed.

When I told I had to catch up on a couple of missed classes from the week gone by, I was half-expecting him to get up and leave.

But he surprised me by saying, ‘Oh you should do that.

Do you mind if I hang around and read this dirty novel of yours, meanwhile?’

‘Sure, knock yourself out.’ I smiled and went off to get my laptop from the bedroom.

My brain was nowhere near paying attention to the notes on my screen and I stole frequent glimpses at lazing on the floor cushion on my right, reading.

He looked relaxed.

I saw his brows shooting up occasionally at what I’m guessing were some of the early non-veg parts, but other than that he seemed at peace by himself.

Even till a few days ago, the most attractive thing in my living room was a perfect croissant Martin had baked.

I got it home so I could click pictures of it during the golden hour.

And now this beautiful man was lounging in my room, one hand holding his head up, flexing those yummy biceps, and the other holding one of my favourite books.

The more I looked, the more this strange new feeling kept grabbing at my chest.

I didn’t quite recognize it.

I had been in a couple of relationships before, but if I were being honest none of them really drew me in.

They were short.

Like I was watching the screening of a film and then I just abruptly got up and left.

Like I was looking at them through translucent glass.

I could see most things in detail, but I knew if I reached out to touch them, I would touch nothing.

Just the cold glass. I knew that for things outside my realm of comfort, I built my walls high enough. They were lowered for very few in my life. Aaji, Rhea, Maya, Martin. In them, I had everything and everyone I needed.

Was there room for one more person? How did fit in so easily? I knew practically nothing about this guy who was making me feel all sorts of things.

I wished I could say he was everything I was looking for.

But I also knew that I didn’t know what I was looking for.

I was in alien territory, and every minute I spent with him was equal parts beautiful and terrifying.

It occurred to me that it was like I was living in a romance novel, but without the option of flipping a few chapters ahead to know how it ended.

It seemed to be playing out fine as of now, but I didn’t know what the title was and I couldn’t look up the reviews to see if it was worth it.

‘I can hear you thinking,’ interrupted my chaotic train of thought.

He must have caught me zoning out with my mouth half open and eyes out of focus.

‘Aha! What did you hear?’ I asked, shutting my laptop and turning in my chair.

‘Everything that you wanted to do to my naked body.’ He sat up with a smirk and wiggled his eyebrows.

‘Okay! That’s enough with romance novels for today,’ I said and walked over to him. I bent down to pluck the book out of his hands, and before my brain could make an informed decision, I took the book, turned around and sat down on his lap.

On. His. Lap.

What in the babysitting universe was that? Wasn’t I JUST freaking out about how everything was moving too fast? Wasn’t I JUST doubting that could very well be a murderer or, worse, a pyramid-scheme salesman?

The minute my brain registered what my body had done, I stiffened and stared straight ahead like I’d been electrocuted. I should have quickly got to my feet and blamed the whole thing on ‘weak knees’ (it wouldn’t be a complete lie), but I stayed put.

I could feel my back pressing against his chest. His hands hovered in the air on both sides of me (like someone was holding a gun to his head), telling me clearly that he was as shocked as I was.

His legs stayed frozen under me and I wished that the earth would just split and swallow me up whole. I gulped, pursed my lips and shut my eyes in a silent prayer to whoever was listening.

Gods, Satan, spirits, energies, Mark Zuckerberg. My breath stuck in my rib cage and the veins on my forehead were about to burst. I regretted waking up that morning.

And then wrapped both his arms around me and pulled me closer.