"Her elbows are all bruised," Devdas said with a silent grim, eyes fixed on Ram.
"We had a few bumps along the way."
"Meaning?"
"She couldn't walk, I couldn't have carried her and a cart was not exactly comfortable."
"You should have stolen a carriage then!"
"In a moment everybody would be after us. Nobody is going to pursue a cart thief."
As the two men exchanged the conversation, Paro stood motionless aside. All three were in front of one of the guest bedroom's door, waiting for a doctor to come out. Paro studied Ram for a while. Chandramukhi's brother. Of course, that is why he seemed familiar. There was a family resemblance. Did their mother look like this or father? She caught herself thinking. But what did it matter? Now, at this very moment? When they all appeared in her home, running from somewhere and being an utter mess. A scarred thief, her love and a tawaif pregnant with his what was all too apparently his child. Paro was hurting. And yet she felt numb somehow.
The door opened and the doctor came out.
"She is exhausted," he replied to a frantic question. "Complains of back pain, which is quite normal at this stage. How long is she pregnant again?"
"Little over seven months," Devdas answered.
"If you go back and ask her she will tell you even how many days exactly," Ram added with his trademark sarcasm, and his brother-in-law shot him a deadly look.
Doctor scratched his head a bit.
"Oh yes... well, she needs to rest, that is really all I can say right now."
"When will she be able to travel again?"
"Travel?" the doctor almost cried out. "Not before she gives birth and recovers! Whatever journey she has undertaken did her more harm than good. She should stay in bed, preferably until the baby comes. I was to say she can walk about with care, and you want her to travel?" Being the little man he was he would almost look amusing giving so vehemently the piece of his mind to Chandramukhi's two keepers, if it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation.
"But we cannot stay here for more than two days," said Ram.
"Well, you do what you think the best," said the doctor, deeply insulted.
"Surely it cannot be that serious!"
"The child is in the wrong position!" the doctor literally barked, silencing the protesting thief. "And I can assure you it will come way before it is due. It may be, in fact a matter of days, even hours. Definitely not months and I highly doubt the weeks. She is obviously weak and not exactly in a great state of mind from what I can tell. But I assume she is your responsibility, not mine, so if you want her to die in the middle of some dirty road go ahead!"
The doctor was all red and trembling, trying not to shout and failing occasionally, while Ram was experiencing a rare moment of not knowing what to say. As he struggled to find words, a much more meaningful struggle was happening just few feet away. All the time as the doctor spoke, Devdas' eyes never let go of Paro's. Begging without words. She understood that language. And did not want to. She knew what he was asking, she knew she had to do it, but her own heart, her own pride refused to let the words out. Devdas came nearer, so close there was nothing else in the world but him and her.
"Please."
No
"Please, Paro."
She did not want to.
"Of course," she heard her own voice as if somebody else has spoken. "I will just make sure the servants who may remember her don't come into her room. And we need to find a room for you two as well."
"Thank you."
He turned away with an intention to step into the bedroom, but she stopped him.
"You have to tell me everything though. Why are you here, what has happened to you. What were you doing since I last saw you. How... and why.... all this."
"Certainly. Just... give me a moment to see her and...."
"No. You can see her later. I want to hear everything now." Her tone and her eyes turned hostile a bit. Just like during that last meeting before her wedding. When she paraded in front of him, boasting of a title she would soon posses. An attempt to make him feel bad. Because it was all his fault. Just as now.
He glanced at the door. He wanted nothing but to step inside. "Paro..."
"I believe I deserve that much. Come," she commanded and made her way from the corridor. With one last hesitant look at the door he clenched his teeth in frustration, but then followed her.
..............
Her head hurt so much she wondered is somebody had hit her so hard she did not remember it. She could feel her own rapid heartbeat and feel the veins pulsating in her temples. She opened her eyes but everything was swaying and refused to stay in place, so she quickly closed them again. Her back was hurting, her arms were hurting, her everything was hurting. But she did not care for the pain. She was terrified for her child. She did not feel it move for three days now. Usually it was so lively she could hardly sleep or sit without feeling the soft kicking somewhere. And she loved it, even though at times it hurt a bit now. Devdas used to be irritated with it. For her the child growing in side her was a miracle, for him an enemy. He never said so, but she could make it out. Always so worried about her, he rarely spoke of the baby. He did not like her to talk about it. And when she placed his hands on her belly for him to feel, his palms would never stay there for more than five seconds, before moving to caress her somewhere else. It was scaring her a bit. For all the love he gave her, this behavior made her doubt it during the nights. He did not want the child, that much was clear. But why? She wouldn't ask. She was too terrified. What if he just didn't want a child from her?
But right now even this worry was forgotten. She was lying completely still, trying to ignore the migraine. "Move," she said feebly and it was a request and a prayer at the same time. She waited for few minutes. Nothing. "Please," she let out in a sob and felt hot tears burning under the closed eyelids. "Please."
The most painful memories were creeping up on her. She lost two children already. One when she was so very young. Never knew how it happened. Another when Kali Babu beat her. That she conceived was something she did not even hope for anymore. And when it happened, she cried out of fear it would end badly again. What if it did? What if this was, again, an end? Did she kill her child again?
And then there it was. A little tremble. As light as a leaf descending onto a still water surface. A gentle assurance she needed. I am here.
The few tears that made their way down her face were of relief.
"You are safe with me," she assured her unborn child lovingly. "I will not hurt you, my little dove. I will not hurt you."
She did not know where exactly she was. She did not care. Her baby was alive. In a silent room, among soft pillows, she soon fell asleep.
