•••
(previously known as His Innocent Girl)
They say trust is the foundation of love.
But what if a word so simple, yet powerful takes a backseat?
Can a relationship be sustained without it?
To find out, come and dive into the story where a notoriou...
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•••
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8 months later.
|Aarish|
[play: sapna jahan]
"Push!" The nurse cajoled Mishka, springing her concerned gaze from between her legs to her overly flustered face.
Her grip on my forearm tightened for the nth time before her body convulsed and a muffled scream released through her gritted teeth when she used another ounce of leftover energy in her exhausted body to expel our stubborn little bundle of joy, which was taking its own precious time to come out, getting a bit over cozy in the temporary cocoon.
"Mmm...hhh." My wife moaned painfully again and dropped her head back to the bed after failing to abide by the nature of contractions. "It's t-too much, A-Arish," she fixed me with the most vulnerable stare, pleading for help out of the torment her body was being inflicted with.
I lifted my left hand, which wasn't engaged in being smothered by hers, and swiped away a thin layer of moisture sitting on her forehead. "I know, I know. Just a few minutes more, love. Then, we'll get to see our baby, won't we?"
Her worn-out eyes drifted to the space between her raised legs where doctors and nurses were crouching, donning sterile hats, masks, and gloves and having all the required labour tools by their side, giving their level best to help Mishka with her delivery. "How m-much more? I-I can't take it" Her voice hoarse from all the crying and screaming as she asked me with a wobbling chin.
"Just a few minutes more," I repeated like a buffoon, not knowing an accurate answer to her query as it has been eight hours since her water broke down. It was around 5 in the morning when she came to me after using the washroom and woke me up, and I was on my feet in a sec. My alertness has touched the sky the time she entered into her third trimester or maybe it was from the beginning. If she would stand, I would too. If she was sitting on any surface, I made sure it was comfortable enough. If she had food cravings even in the middle of the night, her desired delicacy would be in front of her within an hour or if puking her guts out, I would stand behind, clutching her hair with one hand while the other one gently rubbing her back. From physical intimacy and giving a helping hand to her lower back pain along with swollen feet or being at the receiving end of her overwhelming emotions and breakdown, I did it all and I took it all.
