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‘Maybeyou just need to try a different clinic…’
Unexpectedtears formed behind her eyes, and she commanded them to go away.She’dcried enough.Still, she snatched her hand away. ‘Iwas afraid of this.’
‘No, sorry.’Hereached after her, recapturing her hand. ‘Ididn’t mean to say the wrong thing.’
Sheturned her head towards the opposite wall. ‘Butyou can’t help it.Youdon’t know what you don’t know.’Swingingher head back to him, she said, with a note of accusation, ‘Ibet you’ve already started researching this on your phone every timeIleave the room.’He’dprobably have a full dossier completed by next weekend.
‘No…’Aguilty look turned his lips downwards.
Shereached past him and grabbed his phone off the bedside table.
‘Okay,YES!’Hetook the phone back. ‘ButIjust want to learn more about it.We’rea team now.’
‘Arewe?’Hereyes stabbed into his with a direct, no-nonsense intensity.
‘Yes!I—’Krishstopped talking, and looked away as though gathering his thoughts before continuing, ‘I’vealready found so much useful information.Andread lots of stories about women with these issues who have gone on to get pregnant…’
‘I’mgetting a hysterectomy in two months.’Hervoice struggled to remain calm.
‘Iknow but—’
‘I’mjust saying it again, in case you didn’t believe me the first time.’Atthe distressed look on his face, she softened and continued in a less agitated voice, ‘Listen, this is all new to you, soI’mgoing to give you some leeway.Butdon’t forget thatI’vebeen living with this for years.IfIwent onMastermind, female reproductive disorders would be my chosen subject.’Shepaused for a moment, pondering how she could make him understand. ‘Howmany different specialists do you thinkI’vebeen to?’
Hiseyes flicked up, counting imaginary specialists. ‘Idon’t know…ten?’
‘Wrong.Overthirty.Gynaecologists, psychologists, pain specialists, gastroenterologists, urologists, dieticians, personal trainers, reflexologists,Icould go on…thankfully, my parents pay for private medical, because this all adds up quickly.Managingmy symptoms sometimes feels like a full-time job.’
‘Iread that acupuncture can help…’
Shegrunted. ‘Triedthat.Thankyou for playing.’
‘Whatabout—’
‘Howmany steps is it from your office desk to the toilet?’
Heshook his head, surprised by the question. ‘Idon’t know.Fifteen?’
‘Eh!’Sheheld her arms up in the shape of anX. ‘Theanswer is forty-two.Iknow this becauseI’vecounted them.Ialso know that it’s five steps in my flat—the benefits of living in a small studio—and ten here.Sometimesthat journey feels like a lifetime when my pain is at its worst.Everystep is agony.’
‘Haveyou tried medication?Surelythere must be something…’
Sheshook her head, appreciating that he was engaged but also wishing he would stop. ‘Krish,I’vetried it all!Birthcontrol pills made my boobs hurt, andIput on so much weight.Dittothe coil.Metforminmade me feel bloated and gave me stomach cramps.Andsugar!ThereasonIcan’t eat any cake is because of the headaches.Thankyou,PCOS.’
‘It’sjust hard to believe that there aren’t more options for you.’
Throwingup her hands, she said, ‘Welcometo the great injustice of being a woman.There’sso little research into these conditions.That’swhat happens when men are controlling the budgets and women are discouraged from going into science.’Hervoice dripped with anger.Thiswas a well-used, infuriating soap box for her.
Hereached for her hand, but she resisted.Shehad to do what was right for once. ‘No,Krish.Ithink you need to think about this some more.Decideif you really want to be with me and all the baggage that brings.Whatit means foryourfuture.’
‘Francesca,Iwantyou.’Hiseyes were so earnest.Shewished she could believe he’d really thought this through.
‘Iwant you, too.ButI…Icare for you too much to subject you to this.’Sheindicated herself. ‘That’swhyIbroke up with you five years ago.Youdeserve to be a dad.Youwere practically built for it.’
Hestayed silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Thenext words killed her, but she said them anyway. ‘Ithink we should take a break.’
Krishsnorted. ‘Okay,Rachel…’
