“Ravi tried… one day. But he had a really bad gag reflex. He couldn’t continue. He looked so uncomfortable. I felt so embarrassed and guilty after that.”
Preeti’s face softened with deep sympathy. She reached across the table and took both of Simran’s hands in hers.
“Baby…”
That single word of kindness was all it took.
Simran’s face crumpled. Her eyes filled with tears instantly. Her lower lip trembled, and then the sobs came — quiet at first, then stronger, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold them back but failed completely.
Tears rolled down her cheeks in hot streams. She covered her mouth with one hand, trying desperately to stay quiet in the restaurant, but the emotional weight of the past few days — the constant fullness, the leaking, the guilt, the overwhelming physical need, the secret she was carrying — finally broke her.
Preeti immediately got up from her chair and moved to sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around Simran tightly, pulling her into a warm, protective hug, stroking her back gently.
“Shhh… it’s okay, sweetheart. Let it out. I’m right here. You’re not alone. Cry as much as you need to.”
Simran buried her face in Preeti’s shoulder, sobbing softly, her whole body trembling with relief and exhaustion. Preeti kept holding her, whispering soothing words, rubbing slow circles on her back until the sobs gradually quieted into soft sniffles.
Preeti held Simran tightly, stroking her back in slow, soothing circles as the quiet sobs slowly subsided. She didn’t push. She just let her cry, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head, murmuring gentle “shhh… it’s okay, I’m here” until Simran’s breathing evened out.
When Simran finally pulled back a little, wiping her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, Preeti looked at her with soft, concerned eyes.
“Baby… what happened? Talk to me.”
Simran shook her head, lips pressed together, unable to form words yet. Fresh tears welled up but she fought them back.
Preeti waited a moment, then asked gently, “Is it paining too much? Is that why you’re crying right now?”
Simran shook her head again, this time more firmly.
Preeti tilted her head, confused but patient.
“Are you in pain right now?”
Another small shake of the head.
Preeti studied her friend’s face for a long moment, brows furrowed, trying to piece it together. Then something clicked in her eyes. She leaned in closer, voice dropping to a soft, intimate whisper.
“Do you take out the milk every day?”
Simran hesitated… then gave a small, almost reluctant nod.
Preeti’s voice stayed gentle.
“Do you do it yourself?”
Simran didn’t nod. Didn’t speak. She just stared at the tablecloth, fingers twisting the edge of her napkin.
Preeti waited, then asked again, softer this time.
“Do you get help, Simran?”
Simran stayed silent for several long seconds. Preeti asked once more, almost pleading.
“Does someone help you?”
Finally, after what felt like forever, Simran gave one tiny, barely noticeable nod.
Preeti’s eyes softened even more. She reached under the table and placed her hand gently on Simran’s knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
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