Chapter 9
But three more months passed.
Davinder and I saw each other every few days—never on weekends—and our meetings became the core of my life. Sometimes we met at his office late in the evening and I helped him with some data entry, sales confirmations, translations (my French was better than his even though he’d lived in Paris for two years). Other times, we’d sneak into my apartment and spend an hour in bed. Some evenings, we just lay together and talked. Davinder began to open up to me. He never would discuss what happened to him in Paris or if he’d ever been with other men aside from that boy and me. He did tell me about his accident and what it meant for him. The lessons he’d learned from it. He would never again be careless. Would never take his health for granted. We talked a
