Chapter 28 #2
"You are impossible."
"I am determined. There is a difference."
She tried to slide off the desk, but my hands came to her waist, holding her in place. Not roughly, but firmly enough that she could not move without pushing harder than she was willing to.
"Let me go, Armaan. I have work to do."
"You can do your work right here. Your computer is set up. Your files are all here. You have everything you need."
"What I need is space from you."
"No, what you need is to remember that we are married. That we are partners. That I am not going anywhere, no matter how much you push me away."
We stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills.
Finally, she sighed.
"Fine. I will work in here. But only because fighting you takes more energy than I have right now."
I smiled and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before she could pull away.
"That is all I ask, baby."
She slid off the desk and stalked over to her new workstation, sitting down with exaggerated dignity. I returned to my desk and tried to focus on my own work.
But I kept glancing over at her throughout the morning. Watching the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating. The way she absently rubbed her stomach. The way she bit her lower lip when she was thinking.
Around one in the afternoon, she spoke without looking up from her computer.
"I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon. For a checkup."
My head snapped up.
"What time?"
"Three o'clock."
"I will come with you."
Now she did look up, surprise clear on her face.
"You do not have to do that. I can go alone."
"I am coming with you. You are carrying our child. I want to be there for every appointment."
She looked like she wanted to argue, but then just nodded and returned to her work.
At two thirty, we left the office together. I drove us to the clinic, my hand occasionally drifting to rest on her thigh before she would gently but firmly move it away.
The waiting room was quiet, filled with other pregnant women and their partners. We checked in and sat down. Viya picked up a magazine and pretended to read it, but I could see her hands trembling slightly.
She was nervous. So was I.
When her name was called, we both stood and followed the nurse to the examination room.
Dr. Patel, a kind woman in her fifties, greeted us warmly.
"Mrs. Khanna, it is good to see you. And you must be the father."
"Armaan Khanna," I said, shaking her hand.
The examination began. Dr. Patel took Viya's vitals, asked about symptoms, made notes on her chart. Then came the ultrasound.
Viya lay back on the examination table, and Dr. Patel applied gel to her small bump. When the probe touched her skin and the monitor came to life, I moved closer without thinking.
And there it was. Our baby. A small, perfect shape on the screen. The doctor pointed out the head, the tiny limbs, the rapid flutter of the heartbeat.
Tears blurred my vision. I could not help it. That was my child. Mine and Viya's. A life we had created together.
"Everything looks perfect," Dr. Patel said with a smile. "The baby is measuring right on track for twelve weeks. Heart rate is strong and healthy."
"Twelve weeks?" I said, my voice rough with emotion.
"Yes. The baby is due in approximately seven months."
Seven months. By the time our court mandated reconciliation period ended, our baby would almost be here.
Dr. Patel printed out ultrasound images and handed them to me. I stared at them, unable to look away from the grainy image of our child.
After the ultrasound, Dr. Patel began explaining things to me. Dietary requirements. Medications. Warning signs to watch for. Exercises Viya should be doing. I listened carefully, committing everything to memory.
Then Viya spoke.
"Armaan, can you step out for a moment? I need to discuss something with the doctor. Privately."
I looked at her, confused and a little hurt.
"I should know everything about your health. About the baby's health."
"This is something personal. Female matters. Please."
Female matters. I did not like being excluded, did not like the idea that there were things about her pregnancy I would not know. But I also did not want to push her. Did not want to make her more uncomfortable than she already was.
"Fine," I said reluctantly. "I will be right outside."
I left the examination room and paced the hallway, my mind racing with possibilities. What could she need to discuss that I could not hear? Was something wrong? Was she in pain? Was the baby not okay?
Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. Each minute felt like an hour.
Finally, the door opened and Viya emerged. Her expression was neutral, giving nothing away.
"Is everything alright?" I asked immediately.
"Everything is fine."
"What did you need to discuss?"
"Nothing that concerns you."
"Viya, if it involves you or the baby, it concerns me."
"It was personal. Private. Not your business."
Frustration flared in my chest.
"Not my business? You are my wife. That baby is mine. How is any of it not my business?"
She walked past me toward the exit.
"Are we leaving or are you going to stand there interrogating me in the hallway?"
I followed her to the car, my jaw clenched. She got in without waiting for me to open her door, buckling herself in with sharp, angry movements.
The drive back home was tense and silent. She stared out the window. I gripped the steering wheel harder than necessary.
This woman was going to kill me. Absolutely kill me.
She was stubborn and infuriating and determined to keep walls between us no matter what I did.
But god help me, I loved her. Loved her more with every passing day, even when she made me want to put my fist through a wall.
And I would keep fighting for her. Keep pushing. Keep proving that I was not going anywhere.
Because she was mine. And I was hers.
Whether she was ready to admit it yet or not.