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I… We are… changing? Changed? Something feathery enters my heart.
“Good.” Nim taps her chin. “And what size are your shoes?”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I screech, pulling the phone away from Huan. I walk a bit more, making sure he can’t overhear the rest of the conversation.
“It was an innocent question,” she claims.
Nothing is innocent with Nim. Proving me right, she says, “There is nocorrelation between the size of feet and the size of a penis. Unless you’ve got contradictory data you would like to introduce?”
“Nim, I can’t volunteer information that hasn’t been—confirmed repeatedly.”
She grins. “You’ve actually done it. I was only kidding, but you’ve slept together.”
“Quiet!” I look up, checking to make sure Huan is still far enough away. He is. “I’m not confirming anything, even though I know you and Reena will ambush me the second I return.”
“Yes, but I enjoy ranking as the better friend sleuth. Isn’t there anything juicy you can add?” Her nose twists. “How about feelings? Do you like-like him or is this an illicit tryst in London?”
Once again, I look at Huan.
He is wearing an outfit he probably thinks pushes the fashion envelope. Dark navy fitted pants, and a grey sweater with a lighter border around the arm cuffs. Three colours. A real maverick, this one is.
And yet, the sight of himmovesme.
When his eyes meet mine, I want to blurt things out. Like how I want to crystallize our trip into a circle and never leave the borders. I’ve got this fragile albatross moving inside me, and know this malady is connected to him. I’m suddenly afraid of time.
I don’t want any of this to run out.
I don’t want us to run out.
It’s not supposed to feel this good. To feel right.
“Your expression,” Nim tells me, rather softly, “is pleasure and pain. He better not hurt you.”
“Don’t worry,” I say without any conviction. I know we’re both capable of distributing pain to each other now.
“Take care of Komal,” she says.
“I love you, too,” I reply.
As I hang up, I go over to Huan and corner him against a wall.
His amused smirk tells me he lets me.
“I’m going to take advantage of you,” I warn. “Are you game?”
“Obviously.”
“Safe-word?”
He considers it for a moment.
“Language.”
My head cocks to the side. Previous entries were cottage cooking and birdwatching. This is… what he…
Oh… I can't believe it… he—this?—
This is what he knows aboutmyinterests and what I do for fun.
