Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
AMAY
Amay sat in his little cabin, staring at the lit screen of his laptop, the medical research he was supposedly reading going right over his head. It was past ten at night. His shift was done. He should leave.
Go away Amay.
His fingers clenched around the mouse, his mind going a mile a minute. He should go away, he thought. He should go home and get some sleep. He should walk away and not look back. He knew what he should do. He also knew what it was he was going to do.
A message pinged through on his phone, and he swiped the screen open, welcoming the distraction.
Ishaan: I don’t have good news.
Amay sighed. Of course, he didn’t. Ishaan never had good news. The Grinch at Christmas had more good news than him. Amay scrubbed a hand through his hair, turning the possibilities over in his head before starting to type out a response. But before he could send it, another message come through on the group chat, The Big Dicks.
Virat: When do you ever have good news?
Amay smiled. Some of the tension easing from his shoulders.
Ishaan: Viru meri jaan, for the first time ever, I have news you don’t have.
Virat: I’m assuming you’re talking about the fact that Gokhale Sr. blocked the warrant?
Amay’s pulse jumped, a skittering hop. This was good news, wasn’t it? Why did Ishaan think it wasn’t?
Ishaan: Way to steal my thunder, dickhead!
Amay: Explain this to me like I’m an idiot, okay? Why is this bad news?
Ishaan: You are an idiot.
Amay: Thanks Desi Einstein, but you didn’t answer my question.
Ishaan: Vir, don’t doctors normally have abnormally large IQs?
Amay: Can you just answer the question?
Virat: By squashing the warrant, all they’ve done is plant a giant red flag on the whole investigation. Would have been smarter to hide whatever they had to hide and let the warrant be executed.
Amay: Got it.
Ishaan: I mean we trust you with our lives. You have to be the smart ones. And I KNOW you weren’t a donation candidate.
Virat: Ish, shut up.
Amay: So, they just shone a giant spotlight on whatever that asshole had going on…
Ishaan: Dude, if I ever get sick, don’t take me to his hospital…
Virat: But we have to. Nobody else is going to be able to stitch your mouth closed.
Amay snorted, a grin cutting through his mood. He tapped out a quick response.
Amay: It’s still a temporary reprieve. For Dhrithi.
Ishaan: Aah yes, Dhrithi. Does she still eat candy like food?
Virat: Ish, shut up. How is she doing? Holding up okay?
Amay: I’m glad you guys asked. I have a favour to ask. Of you, Ishaan.
Ishaan: I didn’t ask. Virat asked. You ask him your favour. I am shutting up.
Amay: Can you shut up and be here, at the hospital, by about three in the afternoon tomorrow?
Ishaan: Why?
Amay: Can you?
Ishaan: Yes. But do I want to?
Amay: Probably not. Will you anyway?
Ishaan: Fine. Yes. Whatever.
Virat: Articulate as always. I’ll see you guys in a couple of days. In the meantime, I’ll be tracking the ‘Varun’ situation. You guys take care.
Amay: See you.
Ishaan: Whatever.
Amay slipped his phone into his pocket, shut his laptop down and stood. He packed up for the night, shoving the extra stuff he’d picked up earlier into his bag. He really shouldn’t be doing what he was planning to. And yet, he took the elevator to the fourth floor and walked to her suite. He took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping in.
Dhrithi’s eyes immediately snapped to him. “Amay?” she asked confused.
“Hey,” he said, dropping his bag on the attender’s bed. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I-“ Dhrithi pushed herself up on one elbow. “What are you doing?”
“I brought you stuff to help get through the night.”
“Stuff?” she repeated, staring at him like he’d grown an extra head.
“A book to read and umm…a pen.” He held both out to her.
Dhrithi stared at his hand like he was offering her a scorpion. “A pen?” she asked.
He didn’t blame her. That was a pretty odd thing to bring someone who was recuperating in a hospital bed. But the hospital shop hadn’t had much in stock. And he didn’t think Dhrithi would want a soft toy or a balloon which had been the only other options.
“I brought M&M’s,” he said, knowing her weakness for candy. Ishaan’s memory of that was spot on.
“What are you doing here Amay?” Her voice sounded unbearably sad, not reaching for any of the things he was offering her. Tears welled in her eyes. “I told you to go away,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. “You need to go away. Far away.”
“It’s not the first time you’ve told me to go away.”
The memory of the last time she’d said that to him shimmered between them, a mirage of pain and anger.
“You went that time.”
“That Amay would never have denied you anything, Dhrithi.”
“And this Amay?”
“You have no power over this Amay.”
A single tear slipped past her impressive control, slowly trickling down one cheek. “Then why are you here?”
“You shouldn’t be alone, Dhriths.” His own voice softened, the walls he wanted to hide behind crumbling at the sight of the sorrow in her eyes. “No one should be alone.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“I feel a lot of things for you,” he replied, his voice deep and gravelly. “Pity is not one of them.”
“You should leave.”
“I should. I really should.” He threw himself into the only chair in the room and cracked open one of his printed medical research booklets. He used his teeth to remove the cap of his highlighter and got to work.
Acutely conscious of Dhrithi’s eyes on his face, he didn’t look her way. He continued working, eyes on his papers until he heard her breathing even out. It was then, and only then, that he allowed himself to look at her.
Her hair was pulled back into a fat, messy braid that fell over one shoulder. Her face was still too thin and drawn, her body too frail. She looked delicate and breakable. His gaze traced the healed cut across her lower lip and the fading bruises on her cheek and temple. The asshole had done his damnedest to break her.
Rage and anguish swirled within him, a toxic tempest of emotion at the thought of what she’d gone through, what Varun Gokhale had put her through.
But she chose him, he reminded himself. Not Amay.
She. Chose. Him.