Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
AMAY
Grief and rage thrummed in his blood as he made his way back to his office, hoping for a few moments of peace. It never ended. Every time he thought he’d shoved the past back where it belonged, it blew up in his face. His father who’d gotten away with everything he’d done, Varun, another asshole, who’d gotten away with his sins by dying before Amay could murder him, Dhrithi who’d broken his heart and apparently still held it in the palm of her hand…
He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. He was being a dick. He knew it but he couldn’t stop it. The overwhelm from everything that had happened today was hitting him, a wave of emotion that was swamping him and taking him down.
He shoved the door to his cabin open and came to a sudden stop.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” The words came out resigned. He was too tired to fight anymore.
Ishaan raised his annoying eyebrow at him. It really was incredible how much emotion that eyebrow had conveyed over the decade or so Amay had known him.
“I’m here to see my bestie.” Ishaan leaned back in Amay’s chair, his hands clasped behind his head.
“Is there no security in this hospital?” Amay barked, marching in and shoving Ishaan out of his chair.
“No security that can keep me out,” Ishaan retorted, getting out of the chair while rubbing his shoulder where Amay had pushed him. “You’ve been working out or something?”
Amay ignored him, burying his head in his hands. “I have work to do, Ish. Get out.”
There was a beat of silence before Ishaan said, “She’s alright, you know. There was a lot of shouting, a lot of drama, a lot of tears, but Goody is fine. She did great, in fact. Virat was saying-“
“I don’t care.”
Ishaan’s jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed as he watched his friend. “ You don’t care? Since when? You care about everything. Climate change, the bureaucracy around medical trials, the litter on Mumbai’s streets, the lack of clean drinking water for the poor…I mean the list is endless. And if there is one thing you have always cared about, it is Goody.”
“Stop calling her that,” Amay muttered.
“Why? What difference does it make what I call her? You don’t care, right?”
“She’s not a fucking goody two shoes!!” Amay’s roar startled them both.
Ishaan’s eyebrows winged up to his hairline, his face the very definition of looking goggle eyed.
“I told her about my mother.”
Ishaan stilled, his body going rigid as the import of those words locked into place. He sat down in the chair across from Amay, his elbows resting on his knees and he leaned forward and focused on his friend.
“She told Varun?” The quiet question had Amay’s fight going out of him. He looked up, his eyes meeting his friend’s.
“In a sense.”
“What does that mean, Ams? It’s a yes or no kind of question.”
“She wrote it down in a diary or journal or something and Varun found it.”
“Ah.” Ishaan’s eyes softened. “He used it, of course.”
“Hmm. Those guys used everything.”
Ishaan hummed, a soft sound beneath his breath. “It’s going to blow up. Today was just the match that lit the wick of the bomb.”
“Do bombs have wicks?” Amay asked, the pressure around his chest easing slightly.
Ishaan’s eyebrow did its little up and down thing. “I don’t know Ams. You’re the brain trust in this group.”
“Really?” Amay drawled. “Aren’t you the scholarship student?”
“Ehh.” Ishaan made a sound like a buzzer malfunctioning. “Tech skills are all I’ve got.”
“You built an empire with it.”
“That I did.” The satisfaction in Ishaan’s voice had Amay smiling.
They sat in silence for a while before Amay said, “My father was here.”
Ishaan didn’t say anything, his mouth flattening into a tight line. “What did the asshole want?”
“His wife and he had come to get their annual health check ups done.”
“And there is nowhere else in the entire city of Mumbai where they could have gotten that done?”
Amay wondered if he should shave Ishaan’s eyebrows while he was asleep. Those were very judgmental eyebrows.
“He wants something. He claims its some signatures but there is probably more. I just don’t know what yet.”
Ishaan snorted. “He should be grateful he isn’t rotting in jail.”
A cold, venomous snake uncoiled in the pit of Amay’s stomach. “The day I find evidence that will put him there is the day he will.”
They sat in more silence, Ishaan’s judgy eyebrows staying calm for once.
“Do you have a smoke on you?”
“For fuck’s sake, Ish. This is a hospital and I’m a doctor. I’m not going to hand you a fucking cancer stick!” Amay glared at him. “I thought you’d given up.”
“I am in the process of doing so,” Ishaan said calmly. “I just-“
“Don’t just.”
“Fine. Fine. Mr. Fun Police,” Ishaan muttered. “A simple yes or no would have sufficed.”
“I have another surgery scheduled in an hour. I need to prep for it.”
“And that’s my cue to get out.” Ishaan stood, walking towards the door. He almost made it before he doubled back. “You’re not doing okay, Ams. Acknowledge it and then let’s talk? I’m here, okay? Virat and I are here.”
We’ll talk.
The words hung in his mind, silent and damning. Amay sighed.
“I told Dhrithi we’d talk.”
Ishaan chewed on his lower lip as he considered this statement. “Were you using sign language until now?”
Amay stared at him pointedly until awareness dawned on his face.
“Oh, you’re going to talk.” Ishaan made dramatic air quotes around the word talk. “Well, that’s…something.”
“I thought it was too. I,” Amay exhaled hard. “I think I’m falling for her again, Ish.”
“Again?” Ishaan quirked his stupid eyebrow. “There is no again with the two of you. There was only an ‘always.’”
He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. “It’s a crazy time for this shit right now. But what do I know?” Ishaan shrugged. “They say love doesn’t come with a handbook or a timeline, right? Maybe this is your time, yours and Goody’s.”
Maybe. Amay wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
“I’ve going to go now while you think deep, broody thoughts.” Ishaan backed towards the door, his mouth lifted in a teasing grin. He placed one hand on the doorknob before pausing, something obviously occurring to him. “Hey Ams?”
“Hmm?”
“Was there anything about me in that journal?”
Amay looked at him, eyes narrowing. “Why? Why would anything about you be in Dhrithi’s journal?”
“Never mind. Just asking.”
Ishaan was gone before Amay could probe any further, leaving him to his muddled thoughts and confused emotions. His anger was gone, leaving behind only an aching loneliness and a yearning for something he might be able to have but he wasn’t sure he deserved.
He’d failed the only two women he’d ever loved – his mother and Dhrithi. He hadn’t been able to keep either of them safe, and they’d suffered through their own hells. And when he hadn’t been able to save either of them, did he deserve to save himself?