Page 57 of The Circle of Exile
He had stepped inside the corridor bathroom and shut it.
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“Where do you want him?”
Iram finished drying her hair and turned. Atharva stood there, Yathaarth situated on his shoulder in a diaper. She glanced at the rocking chair. She had failed to hold him steady there. She needed a place where, if he slipped, he would land on something padded.
“Maybe the bed?”
“Be decisive.”
Her eyes whirled at that sharp command. He was looking at her with nothing but bland courtesy.
“Bed,” she asserted quietly, moving to their bed and climbing onto her side.
“Go to the middle,” he ordered, and she followed, wondering what he was about to do. Then she gaped as with one arm on their son, he leaned to cover her with pillows on all sides.In case he slipped.Iram swallowed the bitter feeling and extended her arms. She had prepared for this all day, massaging her breasts as Dr. Baig and her lactation expert had taught her, taking warm showers, eating a lot of food and drinking a lot of water. It had made her nauseous but she had stuck to her chart.
“Aren’t you…” he cleared his throat, pointing at her chest.
“Oh… yes,” she reached down to unbutton the snaps on her maternity kurti. She got down to three and stopped, glancing up at him — “Can I try… skin to skin?”
“You don’t have to ask me, he is your son too,” he snapped.
“You don’t act it!” She snapped back. Then froze. “I am sor…”
“Take your top off,” he commanded, reaching under her feet to pull the duvet. She let him, slowly buttoning down all the way and slipping the top off her arms just as he pulled the duvet close to her neck. She grabbed it, pushing her hair behind her back and awkwardly working her bra off.
“Are you ready?” He asked again, those words just as curt as last night.
What if he cries again?Iram peeped at the bottle Atharva had already popped into the boiler. He was ready to swoop their son away the moment he cried. Truth be told, so was she. If he so much as whimpered, her heart would break again and she didn’t know how many tapes she had to keep it together.
“Here.” Atharva pushed one knee on the bed and brought Yathaarth to her. She pulled the duvet down and accepted him in her arms, this time her bones not shaking. Maybe because she was honed in on making him latch. His warm skin met hers and her tummy pulled in on a breath. The inside of her body knew him. It would take some time for the outside to know him too, isn’t it?
Hi. Remember me?
She looked into his big, grey eyes blinking slowly at her. Dark grey. Darker than Atharva’s. His eyelashes were long, just like his father’s. So pretty, and so devastating once he grew up. She ran her finger in tiny circles on his waist, recreating the rhythm of those circles she would always draw on her tummy. His mouth opened, his eyes squeezed shut as if ready to break into a wail.
“Atha…” she didn’t even have a chance to finish the sentence before Atharva’s hand came under their son, holding his back. She thought he would take Yathaarth away but he just patted — “Shhh, shhh, Dilbaro. Time to load up, see,” he reached down and ran his fingers through his wispy hair. His grey eyes met hers — “Try.”
“You are holding him?”
“Yes. Try. You feel it?”
“Hmm,” she pushed forward and met his open mouth with her right breast, the one that produced the most. He bit and let go. She winced but tried again. He pushed back. He did not latch, but his face relaxed and his nose tried to find her again, eyes blinking at the sight in front of him. Elated, Iram brought him close to her bare chest again and he purred. Was that a happy sound?
“Look? Is he happy?” She half-laughed, half-cried. “Ooooh, oooh,” she patted his back. “Hi. Remember me?”
Yathaarth didn’t respond but his father’s thumb reached the corner of her eye. Iram glanced up, and Atharva was wiping the tear spilling out of her eye. “This is…”
“I know.”
“You felt it too when you fed him for the first time?”
“Hmm.”
She rocked slowly back and forth, holding her baby on her skin, feeling like they were one again.
“Oooh,” she cooed quietly, letting her chest vibrate into his face. “Hi, baby… Yathaarth.”
