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Aftersplashing milk into his tea and giving it a stir, she added some cold water to cool them down and carried the mugs back to the bedroom, absently humming the catchy theme from one of her favouriteHindifilms.
Shehanded him the mug and crawled back under the covers.Heput his tea on top of a book on his bedside table and rolled towards her, propping himself up on one hand, while she settled upright against some pillows.
‘SoItake it you’re abahut badaBollywoodfan now,’ he said in an exaggerated accent.
‘Well,Bollywoodis jolly good.’Sheblew into her mug.
Helaughed at her reference. ‘Inever, ever would have believed it possible.Notin a thousand years.Sowhat’s your favourite?’
‘Mohabbaten.I’ma sucker for aShahRukhKhanfilm.Hereally has improved with age.Frankly,Ithink he’s better looking now than he was inDDLJ.’
Heflicked her on the leg with feigned jealousy. ‘He’sold enough to be your father.Ilove theDhoommovies.’
‘Criminalswith fast motorbikes?Quellesurprise.’
‘Anddid you know there’s a movie named after me?’Hereached out and walked his fingers along her hip.
‘Ofcourse!You’rea sexy superhero…’
‘…with an incredibly highIQ, unbelievable strength, and excellent stamina.’Hewaggled his eyebrows suggestively.
‘Oh,Iagree.Superhumanstamina.’
Heleaned over to trail kisses down her arm. ‘Iknow a good way to test it…’
Shelaughed, and hot tea splashed over the side of her cup onto her belly, a few inches above one of her scars. ‘Shit.’
‘Sorry!Didit burn you?’Hesoaked the tea up with the bed sheet and kissed the spot.Pullingback, he trailed his finger over the puckered skin below. ‘Whendid you get this one?’
‘Threeyears ago.Myomectomy.’
‘What’sthat?’
‘Fibroidsurgery.Didn’thelp.Theycame back.’
Bothof them were quiet as he continued to stroke her scar, like he wished he could take it away.SweetKrish.Shewished he did have super powers.Ifanyone deserved them, it was him.He’dbe such a force for good.Sheknew that he would do everything he could to protect her.
Orto heal her.Butof course, that was impossible.Herbody was what it was.She’dhad over a decade to get used to her problems and what they meant.Forhim, the entire thing was fresh.Hemight say that he was fine with her having a hysterectomy, but she'd seen the momentary look of shock on his face when she’d told him.Shecould only imagine what went through his head in that second.Whathad been going through his head since.
Francescasipped her tea and said what needed to be said. ‘Wehaven’t talked about the fact thatIcan’t have kids.’Thenext words were harder to say. ‘Howdo you, um, feel about that?’
Herolled over and faced the ceiling, stuffing his hand behind his head. ‘I’mstill trying to understand what it means.’
Sheput her mug down on the bedside table and sat up straighter, looking down at him. ‘Itmeans whatIjust said.Ican never carry a baby that’s half you and half me.That’swhat it means.’
Anotherbrief flicker of something crossed his face. ‘Iknow that.’
‘Buthave you accepted that?’Sheheld her breath as she awaited his answer.
Hesat up, too, piling his pillows behind him and leaning back against the cushioned grey headboard. ‘Areyou sure there’s nothing that we can do?Canwe harvest some of your eggs before the operation?Usea surrogate…’
Herhead was shaking before he even finished. ‘Wealready tried.Ibecame overstimulated both times.’
‘Whatdoes that mean?’
‘Itmeans it didn’t work.’Anedge of frustration sharpened her voice.Shecrossed her arms.
Krishreached over and slowly uncrossed them, taking her hand in his.
