"What's for dinner?" she asked.
"I was thinking the Matunga place again," he said. "Unless you want something different."
"I want the mutton kuzhambu and I want you to tell me something true that you wouldn't have said six months ago."
"I can do that."
"I know you can. That's why I'm asking."
They walked toward the car in the particular version of together that they had been building since a terrace above the sea and a small office in Bandra and a corridor outside a door with someone else's name on it — not the easy together of people who had never had to work at it, but the specific and harder-earned together of people who understood what they had cost each other and had decided that the cost was paid and the building could begin.
