CHAPTER 14 （aryan）
I wasn't sure what woke me up.
Years of habit, perhaps.
A sound.
A movement.
Or maybe nothing at all.
My eyes opened slowly.
Darkness filled the room.
For a few seconds, I simply stared at the ceiling.
Then something felt off.
My gaze moved toward the bed.
Empty.
The blanket was pushed aside.
The blanket was pushed aside.
My brows pulled together immediately.
Mahi.
I sat up.
The room remained silent.
Too silent.
Then I noticed it.
The balcony door.
Slightly open.
A cool breeze drifted through the gap.
Relief settled in my chest.
At least she hadn't disappeared.
Again.
I stood and quietly made my way toward the balcony.
The moment I stepped outside, I saw her.
Standing by the railing.
Moonlight painted her figure in silver.
Her hair moved gently with the wind.
She looked smaller somehow.
Not physically.
Just...
Far away.
Lost in thought.
For a moment, I simply watched her.
She looked peaceful.
More peaceful than she had looked all day.
Then she tilted her head upward.
Toward the moon.
And smiled.
A real smile.
Small.
Unaware.
The kind people only wore when they thought nobody was watching.
Something tightened unexpectedly in my chest.
Strange.
I had spent years surrounded by people.
Yet somehow this woman preferred the company of the moon.
The thought almost made me smile.
Almost.
A gust of wind brushed past us.
Mahi shivered slightly.
Only then did I realize she had come outside without a jacket.
Of course she had.
The woman was brilliant in an operating room and completely incapable of basic self-preservation.
I released a quiet breath and stepped back inside the room.
The night air was getting colder.
If she wanted to stand outside and stare at the moon for hours, that was her decision.
But it wasn't exactly ideal if a surgeon ended up sick.
The thought made me shake my head.
I grabbed a jacket from the chair and headed back toward the balcony.
Just as I stepped outside, her voice drifted through the night air.
"When I was little..."
I paused.
"I used to think the moon followed me."
A smirk appeared on my face immediately.
Of course she did.
For some reason, I wasn't even surprised.
I took a step forward.
"Really?"
Mahi jumped.
Her head snapped around so fast that I almost laughed.
Green eyes met mine.
Wide.
Caught.
For a second, she looked genuinely horrified.
As if I had just uncovered a state secret.
"No."
I raised an eyebrow.
"No?"
She crossed her arms.
"I never said that."
I looked at her.
Then at the moon.
Then back at her.
"Mahi."
"What?"
"I literally heard you."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You have no proof."
I stared at her for a moment.
The woman was unbelievable.
A few seconds later, I held up the jacket.
"Put this on."
Her gaze dropped to it.
Then immediately returned to me.
"I'm not cold."
A lie.
A terrible lie.
She had been rubbing her hands together for the last five minutes.
Without waiting for permission, I draped the jacket over her shoulders.
She froze.
For a brief second, neither of us moved.
Then she looked down at the jacket.
And pulled it closer around herself.
Not because she was cold, obviously.
That would mean admitting I was right.
I leaned against the railing beside her.
Neither of us spoke.
The silence wasn't awkward.
Just quiet.
The moon hung above us.
Bright and steady.
Mahi looked up at it again.
A small smile appearing on her face.
"You know," she said after a while, "I was completely convinced it followed me."
I looked at her.
"You were a strange child."
She gasped dramatically.
"I was a visionary."
Despite myself, a laugh escaped me.
A real one.
And judging by the look of absolute victory on her face...
That had been exactly what she was aiming for.
"Maybe it followed you."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
Mahi looked at me.
Surprised.
Then she tilted her head slightly.
A small smile appeared on her face before she looked back at the moon.
"See?" she said softly. "I knew I wasn't crazy."
I shook my head.
There was no winning arguments against her.
For a few moments, neither of us spoke.
The night remained quiet around us.
Then Mahi looked up at the sky again.
"The moon is very beautiful."
My gaze drifted toward her.
A small smile found its way onto my face.
"Yes."
My voice came out quieter than intended.
"It is."
Moonlight spilled across her features.
The silver glow brightened her green eyes.
The wind played with strands of her hair.
And the smile on her lips...
I forced my gaze away.
Immediately.
Toward the moon.
Toward anything else.
Aryan.
What is wrong with you?
I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck.
The moon.
Focus on the moon.
Not on her.
The moon was significantly less problematic.
Beside me, Mahi remained completely unaware of the battle taking place inside my head.
Thankfully.
She rested her arms on the railing and continued looking at the sky.
Peaceful.
Content.
For the first time all day, she looked genuinely relaxed.
A strange feeling settled in my chest.
Not discomfort.
Not concern.
Something far more dangerous.
I ignored it.
Immediately.
And focused my attention on the moon instead.
Unfortunately...
The moon wasn't nearly as distracting as I needed it to be.
"Do you usually disappear from bed just to watch the moon?"
I looked at her.
Mahi turned her head slightly.
"No."
She looked back at the sky.
"Only when sleep doesn't come."
My eyebrows rose.
That surprised me.
"Really?"
She glanced at me.
I folded my arms.
"You were the one who said you could sleep whenever you wanted."
A smile tugged at her lips.
"Exceptions always exist."
I resisted the urge to smile.
Of course.
The woman had an answer for everything.
And somehow she always sounded completely convinced she was right.
Even when she wasn't.
I shook my head.
"What's the exception?"
The moment the question left my mouth, she looked away.
Immediately.
There.
That.
I knew that look.
Over the past few weeks, I had started noticing things.
The way her fingers played with the edge of her sleeve when she was nervous.
The way she crossed her arms when she was annoyed.
The way she avoided eye contact right before giving an answer she didn't want to give.
And right now?
She was looking anywhere except at me.
Interesting.
A very small smile appeared on my face.
Mahi noticed it instantly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Her eyes narrowed.
A clear sign she didn't believe me.
Good.
Because I didn't believe her either.
She looked back at the moon.
Far too quickly.
Far too innocently.
Definitely a lie.
The question was just how big it was.
After a few seconds, she finally spoke.
"My exception is caffeine."
I stared at her.
She continued looking at the moon.
Determinedly.
As if refusing to acknowledge my existence.
"Caffeine."
"Yes."
"You drink one cup of coffee and can't sleep?"
She nodded.
"Tragic, really."
I looked at her for a long moment.
Then I released a breath.
"Mahi."
"What?"
"You're lying."
Her head snapped toward me immediately.
Offended.
Absolutely offended.
"I am not."
"You are."
"I am not."
"You looked away."
"That proves nothing."
"It proves everything."
She gasped dramatically.
I knew it.
The woman could perform surgery, survive medical school, and argue with complete confidence.
But she was terrible at lying.
And the fact that she didn't know I had figured that out yet...
Made this conversation considerably more entertaining.
She crossed her arms.
A clear sign of surrender.
Or stubbornness.
With Mahi, it was usually both.
"Fine."
My eyebrows rose.
I looked at her.
"Fine what?"
She avoided looking at me.
Again.
Interesting.
A few seconds passed before she finally spoke.
"You're right."
A smirk immediately appeared on my face.
Of course I was.
"I know I'm right."
Mahi turned so quickly that I almost laughed.
The look she gave me could have frozen an ocean.
The smirk only grew.
A mistake.
A very enjoyable mistake.
"You look very pleased with yourself."
"I am."
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Congratulations."
"Thank you."
"I wasn't complimenting you."
"You admitted I was right."
"I admitted nothing."
I stared at her.
She stared back.
Then realization crossed her face.
Too late.
Far too late.
I raised an eyebrow.
Mahi groaned.
The sound of pure regret.
"You're impossible."
"That's not what you said five seconds ago."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
The breeze lifted a few strands of her hair.
For a second, she looked as though she was considering pushing me off the balcony.
A completely reasonable reaction.
Unfortunately for her, I was enjoying this too much.
Finally, she looked away.
Toward the moon.
Toward anything except me.
"My exception is nightmares."
The amusement disappeared immediately.
My gaze shifted to her.
The moonlight still illuminated her face.
But the smile was gone now.
Replaced by something quieter.
Something more vulnerable.
I remained silent.
Waiting.
Mahi rested her arms against the railing.
"When I have nightmares..."
A pause.
"I can't go back to sleep."
The night suddenly felt much colder.
And for the first time since stepping onto the balcony...
I understood why she had been standing out here alone.
I looked at her.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
For a moment, she didn't answer.
Then she looked down and shook her head.
"No."
A pause.
"It's something stupid."
The way she said it told me she didn't think it was stupid at all.
"But I believe in it."
I leaned against the railing.
"What is it?"
Mahi hesitated.
Then she looked at me.
And for the first time that night, I saw fear in her eyes.
Interesting.
Not fear of Raj.
Not fear of people.
Something else.
"My mother used to say..." she began quietly, "...don't tell your nightmares to anyone."
The wind carried a few strands of hair across her face.
She didn't move them away.
"Because if you do, they'll come true."
I stared at her.
A highly trained surgeon.
A woman who spent her days opening people up in operating rooms and making life-or-death decisions.
And she was afraid of a nightmare coming true.
The thought almost made me smile.
Almost.
"You're a doctor."
I looked at her.
"You've studied this stuff."
"You know dreams aren't predictions."
She nodded immediately.
"I know."
"Then?"
Her fingers tightened around the railing.
For a few moments, she remained silent.
Then she whispered,
"But some things are beyond knowledge."
The answer caught me off guard.
Mahi finally looked up.
The fear was still there.
Real.
Unhidden.
"My grandmother believed in signs."
A small laugh escaped her.
"Mom believed in signs."
She looked away.
"And somewhere along the way, I started believing in a few too."
The moonlight reflected in her green eyes.
"I know it doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't."
She glared at me.
I ignored it.
"But that doesn't stop me from being scared."
The honesty in her voice surprised me.
Most people hid their fears.
Mahi announced them and then got annoyed when they existed.
A strange silence settled between us.
Finally, I asked,
"What did you dream?"
Immediately, she looked away again.
There it was.
That hesitation.
That nervous movement.
Whatever she had seen...
It wasn't the dream itself that frightened her.
It was the thought of saying it aloud.
And suddenly, I wasn't so sure I wanted to hear the answer.
I looked at her.
But her eyes refused to meet mine.
Instead, they remained fixed on the moon above us.
I understood.
This was Mahi.
The same woman who carried her burdens alone.
The same woman who smiled when she was hurting and changed the subject whenever someone came too close to the truth.
She hid everything.
Not because she wanted attention.
Because she genuinely believed she had to handle it herself.
I released a slow breath.
With anyone else, I would have found out the truth already.
Information had never been difficult to obtain.
If I wanted answers, I got them.
One way or another.
But Mahi was different.
I couldn't force her.
Couldn't corner her.
Couldn't demand explanations.
The moment I did, she would only retreat further behind those walls she had spent years building.
My gaze shifted back to her.
The moonlight reflected in her green eyes.
Quiet.
Guarded.
Distant.
If I wanted the truth from Mahi...
She would have to choose to give it to me herself.
"Mahi," I said.
"Relax."
My gaze dropped to her hands.
They were gripping the railing so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
She looked at me.
Worried.
Uncertain.
As if she wanted to believe me but couldn't quite manage it.
I released a breath.
"It was just a dream, okay?"
The night breeze stirred her hair.
"Just calm down."
For a moment, she remained silent.
Then she looked away.
"I know it was a dream."
I nodded.
"Exactly."
Her lips pressed together.
The expression on her face told me she wasn't convinced.
Not even a little.
"Mahi."
She looked at me again.
"What?"
"You know it wasn't real."
"I know."
"Then why are you acting like this?"
A humorless laugh escaped her.
"Because knowing something and feeling something are two different things."
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it again.
Annoyingly enough...
She had a point.
She looked back at the moon.
"I know dreams don't predict the future."
A pause.
"I know they aren't signs."
Another pause.
"I know all of that."
Her voice grew quieter.
"But sometimes fear doesn't care what you know."
The words settled between us.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I stepped closer.
Not enough to crowd her.
Just enough to make sure she looked at me.
When she finally did, I held her gaze.
"Look at me."
Her green eyes met mine.
"I'm here."
A simple statement.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
"You had a nightmare."
I shrugged slightly.
"It happens."
The corner of her mouth twitched.
Barely.
"That's your motivational speech?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"It's free."
Despite herself, she laughed.
Small.
Soft.
But it was there.
Good.
Because that was a lot better than watching her stand here and scare herself with things that hadn't happened.
And as the sound of her laughter faded into the night, I realized something.
The fear hadn't disappeared from her eyes.
But it wasn't as strong as before.
And for now...
That was enough.
"So are you going to stand here until sunrise?" I asked.
A small smile appeared on her face.
"No."
"Good."
I stepped away from the railing.
"Then let's go inside, try to sleep, and forget whatever you saw."
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then she nodded.
"Okay."
Mahi turned and started walking toward the balcony door.
I followed a step behind.
The jacket was still wrapped around her shoulders.
Her fingers remained tightly curled around its edges.
As if letting go would somehow allow the nightmare to catch up with her.
The thought made my jaw tighten slightly.
Then it happened.
Her foot caught on the edge of the doorway.
A small mistake.
But enough.
I saw her lose balance.
Instinct took over.
I stepped forward immediately.
One hand caught her waist.
The other steadied her shoulder.
The fall never came.
For a second, everything seemed to stop.
The night breeze.
The conversation.
Even the thoughts in my head.
Mahi looked up.
Green eyes widened in surprise.
I looked down at her.
Neither of us spoke.
A strand of hair had fallen across her face.
Moonlight still reflected in her eyes.
For the briefest moment, she simply stared.
Then realization returned.
Along with embarrassment.
Lots of embarrassment.
Her eyes immediately dropped somewhere over my shoulder.
"I had that under control."
The statement was so ridiculous that I almost laughed.
I raised an eyebrow.
"You were falling."
"I was recovering."
"Mahi."
"I was."
I shook my head.
The woman could trip over air and still argue about it.
Slowly, I released my hold and took a step back.
The moment I did, she adjusted the jacket and looked anywhere except at me.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"Come on, Doctor."
I opened the balcony door.
"This time try not to fight the floor."
She gasped.
Actually gasped.
Then narrowed her eyes at me.
And just like that, some of the fear from the nightmare disappeared.
Exactly as I had hoped.