Chapter 144 - Painful Cramps and His Care (1) (2/2)

I stayed silent. I could not refute his words because I had nothing to say anymore. Everything he said was true. Though I did not know about the later part. Perhaps it had happened when I had that panic attack.

*

”Ok, now tell me what happened in the morning?”

This was the question I asked Eshan when we shifted to the living room. We had our late lunch before that. My ever so caring and thoughtful husband had prepared everything light yet nutritious. He had prohibited me from asking anything as he concentrated on feeding me properly.

I had the feeling that he was performing the job of a baby sitter. He looked after me in the same fashion. Somehow, I had controlled my curiosity while eating. But, once we shifted to the living room, I couldn't control it.

”Alright alright. I'll tell you. Relax, just don't get agitated,” Eshan patted my head as he pulled me in his embrace.

I had kept some distance between us when we sat down as my mind often forgot everything else. Held in his arms, I could see nothing else but him only. That was why I tried to maintain the distance, but Eshan being Eshan, he acted on his instincts.

Nowadays, he could not keep away from me without having any physical contact. Not that I minded our growing intimacy. I loved his advances.

”Do you remember why you had a panic attack?”

When he threw that question abruptly, I was reminded of the morning.

I nodded solemnly. ” I had never looked at that scar. I avoided looking at it for the longest time. I don't why, but I couldn't look at it. When I found you gazing at it unblinkingly, I was suddenly pulled back in the time. The one, when I had gotten that wound.” I sighed, the feeling was returning. That gloominess, that helplessness, that fear, everything.

At that moment, a sharp painful cramp shot out in my stomach. I reached out to press the area. My face contorted in a grimace of pain. My cramps usually were bearable, however, this time the starting ones were horrible. If they turned out any worse, I would not be able to bear it.

”What's wrong?” Eshan held my shoulder. His right hand came over my hand that was slightly putting pressure on my stomach.

”Nothing. Just a painful cramp,” I answered once the wave of pain died down.

He removed my hand and took over the task of massaging around the area. His long fingers gently yet firmly moved across the right side of my stomach. ”Let me help you.”

”No, it's fine. I'm okay. You don't have to do this.” I held his hand as I tried to stop him.

For some odd reasons, I did not want to bother him. From my experience of how he cared for me in my periods, I knew he was different from my father. Furthermore, after spending close to six months with him, I knew he was not disgusted with such a topic. Sometimes, my past made me wary of things. I did not want him to drift away from me. I could not handle it.

”Stop worrying unnecessarily. Do you want me to repeat myself?” Maybe, he noticed my discomfort.

He stood up. Helping me to lie down on the sofa, he leaned over. Keeping his one hand on the back of the sofa, and other on my cheek. His fingers softly stroked my skin as he said, ”Ok then. We are equal in this relationship, in each and every aspect. You are my responsibility. You have every right to take care of me, so do I. You don't have to feel embarrassed or anything about it.”

I blinked my eyes. He had said exactly the same words. Back then they were the same words that had caused me to tear up when he had pressed my feet. Even after three months, listening to those words caused tears to appear in my eyes.

”I'll bring the hot water bag and your medicines.” He smiled at me.

I stared at the retreating back of my husband as he left after saying those words. I bit my lower lip as once again my stomach started paining. I myself did not understand my behavior sometimes. I was ready to allow him to see me without clothes. I called him my vulnerary husband, and in the next moment, I felt awkward when he was massaging my stomach.

Truthfully, it was my reflexive behavior. What my father had done had left a big wound on my psychology. My reactions were in response to what I had seen at that time of my childhood. I needed to find a way to stop comparing my past and my present. I needed to learn a way to let go of my past.