By day three, she was getting confident. Too confident. I asked her to reverse the car into a narrow spot between two trucks.

Day five. Monsoon rain started suddenly. We were 8 km from home, on a secluded road near the bypass. The windows were closed. AC on full blast. The world outside became a blur of grey water.

She let out a soft gasp. Not a scream. A gasp .

She turned her face toward me. Our noses almost touched. “You keep saying sorry, but you keep doing it,” she whispered.

She drove home in silence. When we reached the gate, she got out, walked to my window, and said in a normal voice loud enough for the neighbors to hear: “Kal agai? 6 baje? I need more practice on the reverse.”

The rain was hammering the roof. Inside, it was just the sound of two people breathing.

She was driving at 20 km/h. Then she stopped the car completely in the middle of the road.