Page 101 of Scars and Crowns

"No moment where I would've finally decided . . . " He smiles. "Yes. Now she's worthy." He brushes another tear away. "That isn't how love works, my love." His thumb strokes my cheek slowly. "Your diabetes isn't something I have to overlook."

"It's part of you."

"The same way my eyesight is part of me."

"The same way Kairav forgets where he leaves his keys."

"The same way Amma pretends she doesn't like sweets before stealing everyone else's dessert."

His smile softens. "It simply means I learn. I learn when you need to eat. I learn which chocolate actually helps. I learn what low blood sugar looks like. I learn because I love you. It's really that simple." I stare at him. Speechless. "And your body . . . " His voice grows impossibly gentle. "You keep apologising for it." He shakes his head. "I don't understand why." His fingers brush lightly against my arm. "Those stretch marks? They're part of your story."

"The weight you're so busy criticising?"

"It carried Sara." His eyes glisten. "It carried both of you through the years I wasn't there to help." His jaw tightens briefly. "I don't look at you and see flaws. I look at you . . . " He gulps, " . . . and I see proof. Proof that you survived. Proof that your body fought for you. Proof that it brought our little girl safely into this world."

He smiles through his own emotion. "How could I ever hate something that gave me both of you?" My breath catches. He continues before I can speak. "And whatever happened in Mumbai . . . " His voice becomes quieter still.

"I'm not asking tonight."

"I'm not asking tomorrow."

"I'm not asking next week."

"You'll tell me . . . if . . . and when . . . you're ready." He squeezes my hand again. "But listen to me carefully." His eyes never leave mine. "There is nothing . . . "

"...nothing..."

"...you could tell me..."

"...that would make me love you less."

"I don't care what happened. I care what it did to you."

"And I care about helping you carry whatever's left." He smiles sadly. "You didn't come back broken."

"You came back after surviving."

"There's a difference."

"You are still kind."

"You still stop to smell flowers."

"You still cry over children's books."

"You still rescue injured birds."

"You still laugh exactly the same way."

"You are still . . . " He brushes his forehead lightly against mine. " . . . you."

"And that's the only person I've ever loved." The tears come so hard I can't breathe around them anymore. I don't even try. He opens his arms.

Without any hesitation. Without any questions. I fall into them. Completely. His embrace is firm without trapping me. Protective without trying to fix me. His hand slides slowly through my hair, over and over, each stroke impossibly gentle. I don't remember the last time someone held me while I cried. Maybe no one ever has.

Not like this.

Not without asking me to stop.