65. SOFT TALK
AAROHI:
I wake up before the sun fully rises, but not peacefully.
A sharp twist grips my stomach so suddenly that I sit up with a gasp, the entire room spinning around me.
Nausea crashes through my body instantly.
Before I can even say his name, I throw the blanket aside and rush toward the washroom as fast as my weak legs allow.
Behind me, I hear the scrape of his balcony chair and his voice filled with concern.
"Aarohi? What happened?" But I can't answer.
I barely reach the sink before vomiting violently.
Again and again. My body feels completely out of control, like it's rejecting everything inside me.
His footsteps rush behind me immediately.
"Aarohi..." His voice sounds closer now, worried in a way he rarely lets anyone hear.
Another wave hits before I can respond. He gathers my hair gently in one hand while the other steadies my shoulder.
"Shh... it's okay." But it doesn't feel okay at all.
My stomach burns, my head feels unbearably heavy, and my body trembles from exhaustion.
After what feels like forever, it finally slows down.
I lean weakly against the sink, breathing hard while cold sweat covers my skin.
He turns on the tap and carefully splashes water over my face with his hand.
"You're burning," he murmurs softly. "I'm fine," I whisper weakly, even though neither of us believes it.
"You're not fine." His tone leaves no room for argument.
Before I can protest, he lifts me into his arms and carries me back to the bed carefully, like I might break apart if he moves too fast. The room tilts again around me.
"I'm calling the doctor," he says immediately.
"No..." I try to object, but he's already dialing the number.
My eyelids grow heavier while his voice fades in and out beside me.
"Yes... continuous vomiting... dizziness.
.. yes... please come quickly." I want to tell him not to panic, but my body refuses to cooperate anymore.
Sleep drags me under before I can say anything else.
When I wake again, the room feels different.
Voices move around softly. Professional voices.
A doctor. I blink slowly and find Veer sitting beside me, his hand wrapped tightly around mine like letting go isn't an option anymore.
The doctor greets me gently. "Good morning.
" I try to sit up, but dizziness crashes over me instantly.
She presses my shoulder down carefully. "Rest." "I'm feeling dizzy," I whisper.
"Normal," she replies calmly. "This month nausea and dizziness are common, especially in twin pregnancy.
" Twin. The word still feels unreal every single time.
She checks my pulse, my blood pressure, then presses lightly against my stomach.
"Pain?" "No." "Bleeding?" "No." She nods once. "Everything looks fine."
Then why does my body feel like it's falling apart?
She prepares another syringe and my heart sinks immediately.
"Again?" I whisper weakly. "Just to help with nausea.
" I hate needles. I hate hospitals. I hate how helpless I feel here.
Before I can react, she injects the medicine gently into my arm.
I wince and tears slip out automatically.
"It's done," Veer whispers near my ear quietly.
The doctor signals the nurse next, and when I see the glucose bottle being brought in, I shake my head weakly. "No..."
"You're dehydrated," the doctor explains calmly.
"This will help." The IV is inserted carefully into my arm while I turn my face away, silent tears slipping down my cheeks.
I hate this feeling. This weakness. This complete loss of control over my own body.
Veer wipes my tears gently with his thumb.
"Don't cry." "I'm not," I lie softly, though my shaking voice betrays me completely.
He almost smiles, but there's sadness hidden in it.
The doctor continues speaking calmly while Veer listens carefully to every word.
"Is it dangerous?" he asks quietly. "No.
" "But she vomited continuously." "The first trimester can be intense," the doctor explains.
I close my eyes, listening carefully, trying not to let fear settle deeper into my chest. She adjusts my medications and reminds him that I need small meals frequently.
"Don't let her climb stairs alone," she adds firmly.
"I won't," he answers instantly without hesitation.
After the doctor leaves, the room becomes quiet except for the soft drip of the glucose bottle beside me.
I stare at the needle taped to my arm and feel miserable.
He notices immediately. "Don't look at it.
" I swallow hard. "I feel like I'm breaking.
" He leans closer slowly. "You're not breaking.
You're building." That makes me look at him properly.
"Building what?" His hand moves gently over my stomach. "Our future."
Tears burn behind my eyes again. "Why does building hurt so much?
" He doesn't answer because maybe he doesn't know either.
Instead, he just holds my hand tighter. Slowly the dizziness begins fading.
The nausea settles enough for my body to relax.
Exhaustion replaces everything else. "I'm sleepy," I murmur weakly.
"Sleep." "What if I vomit again?" His fingers brush softly through my hair. "I'm here."
Simple. Steady. Certain.
I close my eyes slowly, trusting that if another wave comes, he'll catch me again.
Because right now my body feels like a storm, and somehow he feels like the only anchor holding everything steady.
Beneath the nausea, beneath the dizziness, somewhere inside me there are still two tiny rhythms beating quietly.
And as long as those heartbeats continue, I know I can survive this too.
The next morning, I wake slowly this time, not from nausea but from a dull headache pressing heavily behind my eyes.
The room feels too bright. I blink a few times and notice he's already dressed, formal shirt perfectly buttoned, laptop bag resting near the chair.
For a second I think he's leaving for work.
Before I can ask, he looks at me calmly.
"Get ready. We have to go for a checkup.
" I groan softly and press my fingers against my temples. "Again?" "Yes."
"You're not going to the office today?" I ask quietly while sitting up slowly.
He shakes his head once. "I'll work from home now.
" I stare at him carefully. "But Maa and Suhana are here.
.." He cuts me off before I finish. "My mind will still stay here.
" Then more quietly he adds, "And honestly.
.. I'm not leaving you alone anymore." Something about the calm certainty in his voice makes my headache feel lighter instantly.
Getting ready takes forever because my body still feels slow and heavy.
I wear a loose cotton suit, nothing fancy, just comfortable.
Standing before the mirror, I pause for a second.
Do I look different already? Maybe slightly fuller.
Or maybe I'm imagining it. Without thinking, I place my hand gently over my stomach.
"Behave today," I whisper softly under my breath.
He hears me immediately. "What are you telling them? " I smile faintly. "Secret."
The hospital feels less frightening today.
Still unpleasant. Still cold. But familiar enough not to terrify me completely.
The doctor checks my blood pressure first and frowns slightly.
"Your BP is a little low." My stomach tightens instantly.
"Is that bad?" "Not alarming. But we'll monitor it.
" I glance at Veer immediately. His jaw tightens slightly, but he remains silent.
"We'll do another sonography," the doctor says next.
I hesitate before quietly looking at him.
"Come with me?" The doctor smiles softly.
"It's fine." He steps beside me immediately without hesitation.
The cold gel touches my stomach again and I flinch slightly.
Instinctively, I grip his hand. He squeezes mine back reassuringly while the doctor moves the probe slowly across my skin.
Then suddenly, there it is again. That sound.
Fast. Tiny. Alive. But this time there are two rhythms. Separate.
Clear. My entire body freezes. "Doctor..
." I whisper softly. She nods toward the monitor.
"Both are fine." Both. The word feels enormous.
Unreal. My eyes fill instantly as I stare at the screen where two tiny flickers move softly beside each other.
Beside me, he stays silent, but I feel his grip tighten slightly around my fingers.
Then the doctor calmly says, "We have to give an injection.
" My heart drops immediately. "No." "It's to stabilize your BP and reduce nausea.
" "No," I repeat softly, already panicking.
I hate injections. He looks at me carefully before speaking quietly to the doctor.
"Do it." I stare at him in disbelief. "I said no.
" He lowers himself slightly until his face is level with mine.
"It's necessary." "Why did you say yes?" My voice trembles helplessly. "Because it's for you. And them."
That's enough to break me. Tears spill instantly while I turn my face away.
The needle pricks my skin and I flinch hard.
"It's done," he whispers softly near my ear.
But I'm not crying because of pain. I'm crying because I feel weak.
Small. Completely out of control. The doctor writes more notes calmly.
"Babies are growing properly now." Growing.
That word warms something deep inside me despite everything else.
"No stress," she continues. "And absolutely no stairs.
" I blink immediately. "No stairs?" "Yes.
" Before I can protest, he answers calmly.
"We'll shift our room downstairs." "What?
" I turn toward him instantly. "Doctor said no stairs," he replies simply.
"You're overreacting." "I'm reacting correctly.
" Even the doctor smiles faintly. "Good husband.
" I roll my eyes weakly, but somewhere inside, I feel safe in a way I can't explain.
The drive home feels quieter than usual.
I'm exhausted emotionally and physically, but not scared anymore.
When we reach home, he helps me out carefully.
The moment we step inside the room, he glances at me casually and says, "You're getting chubbier now.
" I freeze immediately. "What?" He raises both hands quickly.
"Wait, that's not what I meant—" "Of course.
Make fun of me." I sit dramatically on the bed, crossing my arms. "I'm not talking to you. "
He sighs and kneels in front of me patiently.
"Aarohi..." "No." "You know what I meant.
" "No." "You're glowing." I stay stubbornly silent.
"That sounds worse," I mutter under my breath.
He almost laughs but controls himself. "I meant healthy.
" "Sure." I look away before whispering quietly, "I told you I didn't want the injection. .. then why did you agree?"
His expression softens immediately. "It was necessary.
" "I was scared." "I know." "Still..." He gently takes both my hands in his.
"If I ever choose something over your protest, it's because I'm choosing your safety.
" My anger softens instantly at that. Then unexpectedly, he places one hand gently over my stomach and lowers himself until his forehead almost touches it.
I blink in confusion. "What are you doing?
" "Talking." "To whom?" "To them." I try not to smile but fail miserably.
He clears his throat dramatically. "Listen, both of you.
.." I burst into laughter immediately. "Don't eat all the food, okay?
My wife is hungry every hour." I laugh harder now, wiping tears from my face.
"She is not chubby," he continues seriously.
"She's perfect. You two grow properly, but stop troubling her so much. "
"You're dramatic," I tell him while still smiling.
"Learned from you," he replies calmly. My headache has almost disappeared now.
The heaviness in my chest feels lighter too.
He sits beside me, still serious underneath all the teasing.
"You're not climbing stairs anymore." "I can manage. " "No." "You're impossible." "Yes."
Silence settles softly between us for a moment.
Then I place my hand over his, still resting protectively on my stomach.
"They're really there," I whisper softly.
"Yes." "Two." "Yes." I swallow slowly before asking quietly, "Are we ready?
" He looks at me then, not teasing, not strict, just steady and certain. "We will be."
In that moment, everything else fades away. The injections. The dizziness. The hospital smell. The fear. All I feel is his hand over mine, over them. And for the first time, even with headaches and tears and nausea, everything feels right somehow. Messy. Exhausting. Unpredictable. But right.
As he rests his head lightly against my lap, a quiet realization settles inside me. Maybe I'm not weak after all. Maybe I'm becoming something new. Something stronger. Even if I cry during injections. Even if I argue about vegetables. Even if I call him khadus every single day.
Because right now there are two tiny heartbeats inside me... and one stubborn man beside me.
And somehow, that feels like enough.