59. REEMA

We're lying on my bed with springs poking into our backs. I've taken the side that has the worst of it, but Esha still has to stuff a pillow under her hips. With her belly arched like that, I notice the subtle swell of her bump.

"I fucked up," I say, not for the first time.

"You did."

There was yelling, arguing, questioning, and crying when I told her everything, and now we've both exhausted ourselves. Esha interlaces part of her fingers with mine in a way where only our knuckles connect. Exactly how we used to do as kids. I'm so relieved I could cry and I would, if all the moisture in my body wasn't already wrung out.

"I'm so happy Harry got punched," she says. "But he's lucky, I didn't know. I'd have beat the shit out of him."

"You cry over an ankle sprain."

"Because my ankles have always been weak. That being said, I'd still risk any sprains in my fists from throat punching him."

"May your appetite for violence never change." I lower my head, resting it on her shoulder since it's there. She pats my head since her other hand is right there and free. I've apologized for lying to her over many ugly tears, but this is what makes me feel like we'll be okay.

"With how you tore him a new one," Esha snorts. "I don't think he's going to show up ever again."

With genuine relief, I say, "Thank fuck."

"Is there any way we can legally go after him? Some sort of emotional manipulation charge we can hit him with?"

"I don't know." I shift my head, since her shoulder is quite pointy. "I had the freedom to leave and not give him money when we were together, but also I want to be done with all that. My plan is to move forward."

Esha points to the curtain with her toe. "Like getting out of here?"

"Without the bonus, I'm not ready to get a place of my own. Not that I'm going to ask Ms.Beatrice to stay back. No, I'll look for something with roommates first?—"

"No."

"No?"

"No."

With that, Esha and I get into an argument, but this one is not like the last one. It's not full of hurt and tight, hesitant voices. This one is crass and boisterous. She says she's going to help with my financial situation, to which I argue that I'm not taking money from her, especially since she's spent so much already on her dream wedding. I tell her I've recovered from the worst of the debt, and if I keep staying responsible, I'll be able to afford my own place in another year. Especially if I'm not fired, which is something I don't want to think about. Mr.Davies likes me. I'm good for business. He'll forgive me for what I've done. Hopefully.

Esha tells me Gurinder is a fancy criminal lawyer, as if that explains everything. And that she got a promotion recently.

"I can do this," I tell her. "Believe in me."

"I do believe in you. I'm pissed you didn't ask for help, but also so fucking proud you've been able to turn your life around." She shakes my shoulders. "But guess what? You don't have to take the hard road. You don't have to prove anything to anyone and certainly not to yourself anymore. Sometimes it's okay to walk the easier path. Don't be an idiot and accept the loan. It's not even that much."

To me, someone who has been victim to this much debt, every dollar feels sacred. That's why it seems like Esha is giving me so much by doing this.

She tells me she isn't.

"It's enough to cover the first and last month's deposit and moving costs so we can get you out of here." She looks around the corner that is my bedroom. "Not that Ms.Beatrice doesn't sound fantastic. I can't wait to meet her, but she's leaving soon. We should sort out where you'll be living now and not later."

"Mm."

"Great! Glad you think so, too."

She sits up and pulls out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Texting Gurinder that we are staying for a few days."

"Wait. I—won't he be mad?"

"Pssh. He just married his best friend. The man is walking on clouds. Plus, he loves you, too." Esha puts her phone down. "Speaking of love…"

"Please don't."

I don't realize I've clutched my stomach until I see my sister stare at my hands.

"Right," she says. "Apartment first."