Innocent - Roe Horvat Page 0,52

you before, if he gets pregnant, there’s a good chance he’ll carry to term. The syndrome lowers the production of the—”

“Please, Doctor. None of that. You’re saying that the condition only affects the ability to conceive. Otherwise, it has no negative effect on Navid’s health, not even late in life. Is that correct?”

“Well, there has been one study that showed some connection to osteoporosis after fifty, but that’s never been confirmed—”

“Doctor,” Zana barked.

Dr. Ellis smiled mildly. “I see that you worry about your husband, Zana. You don’t have to. Navid is perfectly healthy.”

“Except I can’t have children,” Navid said. It was important for Zana to understand that.

“You can have children, Navid,” Dr. Ellis corrected. “It’s just that there’s a low chance you’ll be able to conceive.”

Empty. He was empty, and he forever would be.

But what about Zana?

His husband didn’t deserve this.

Zana sighed deeply and ran his hand down his face. “Okay. And is there a way to affect the odds? To make the chance a little higher? Because even if the probability is lower with each heat, if we keep trying, every heat helps the odds a little …”

Negotiation. Another of Zana’s methods. Except this time, it wouldn’t work. He had no adversary to debate and no battle to win.

“I know how statistics work, Zana.” Dr. Ellis sounded strict. “The answer is simple—breeding. As often as possible. But I’d strongly advise you against putting your hopes in that. Every heat would mean incredible stress, especially for Navid. And the disappointment could be even harder to bear.”

Silenced by the doctor’s no-nonsense tone, Zana bent his head and nodded.

“Look into adoption and surrogacy. You can have children if you want to. And you’ll be great parents, I’m sure.” The doctor gave them a gentle smile.

For the rest of the day, Navid couldn’t look Zana in the eyes. He couldn’t bear to see the loss in them. He told his husband he wanted to be alone.

“Are you sure, love?”

“Yes. I want a few hours in solitude.”

“Of course. I’ll be waiting for you when you need me.”

Navid walked around the garden until the evening chill crept under his light jacket.

Any other time, whenever he felt unsure or sad or scared, he’d talk to Zana. Now he couldn’t. He couldn’t even reach out to his best friend. Aiden was married now and pregnant with his second child. He and Geoff were so ridiculously happy and in love. Before the doctor’s appointment, Navid had talked to Aiden, and his friend had said those same reasonable things the doctor then repeated. Keep trying. Surrogacy. Adoption.

Navid didn’t want to listen to reason. And he couldn’t bear seeing Aiden now. Last time, he’d glowed with his pregnancy, his hand stroking his growing belly. Navid hurt just remembering it.

Like a magnet, the cherry tree drew him close. Zana’s voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

“We could sit here and read to our son.”

He fell to his knees and prayed.

Zana’s hands on his shoulders roused him from his trance. He was cold.

“You’re shivering.”

Strong arms pulled him up. He stumbled, so Zana grabbed him around his torso and led him to the house.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m such a fool. I’m so sorry, my darling.”

Navid only shook his head. He’d needed to be alone.

The door slid open, and warmth surrounded him. He let Zana push him to the sofa. As soon as the cushions sank underneath him, he closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see his husband’s face. He wasn’t ready yet.

“Amid. Tea with honey. Quickly.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

Amid’s quiet steps faded.

A fluffy blanket covered Navid. Zana pulled him sideways onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him, and Navid guiltily soaked up the tenderness. Soft kisses brushed his forehead.

Zana said nothing. He kept rocking him like a child and kissing his face.

So much love.

And Navid was empty. Zana’s love slid over his skin and spilled onto the ground, wasted.

The clanking of porcelain made him hide his face in Zana’s chest.

“Thank you, Amid.”

The butler left wordlessly, only a quiet rustle of clothes following him out of the living room.

“Drink this, darling.”

He obeyed. It was hot, but Navid tasted nothing. The warmth helped, though. He needed to speak now, or he’d never find the strength again.

“Zana.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I knew before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I felt it. I can’t describe it. I didn’t tell you because it was just a feeling. Not a fact.”

“Your feelings matter.”

“You would’ve told me it was nothing. And that I should wait for the test