Page 230 - The World's Best Boyfriend

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‘Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him,’ shouted Dhruv. He paced around the room,

kicked things, threw things, broke stuff and punched walls. ‘He’s just being
fucking melodramatic. I’m sure nothing is going to happen to him.’
‘I called the hospital, dude,’ said Sanchit. ‘He’s under treatment.’
‘So?’

‘He’s not going to live for more than a couple of years.’
‘A couple of years is a long time,’ said Dhruv, pointing a finger right at

Sanchit, as if convincing himself and not Sanchit. ‘And that bastard said he was
dying. He wasn’t dying, he might die in a couple of years. There’s a big fucking
difference between the two. Why all the drama now? Couldn’t he just have
called me in two years when he was actually dying!’ Dhruv picked an old beer

bottle lolling on the table and smashed it against the wall. ‘What, what would
have happened? Suddenly it has dawned on him the wrongs he has done and he

wants to make up for it! Well, screw him. I’m not going to go to him, sit by his
side, listen to his side of the story, cry, forgive his imperfections and hold his
hand in his dying days. It fucking won’t happen. This isn’t a damn movie!’
‘Well, not yet.’

‘What not yet?’
‘It’s not a movie yet but it could be if I decide to write about it. It could be a

big hit, you know?’ remarked Sanchit.
Dhruv smacked Sanchit’s head. ‘What are you talking about? My father is
dying and you think it’s a joke?’

‘Me? No. You think it’s a joke,’ said Sanchit, turning serious. ‘So what if he
slept with hookers? So what if he didn’t fight for your mother? So what if you
always hated your father? Why shouldn’t he get a last shot at loving you? You

can spend the rest of your life hating him. He’s not going to stop you from doing
that, will he? So just go. I’m sure he needs you right now, Dhruv. Stop thinking
about yourself for once.’

‘. . .’
‘I’m trying to make you feel guilty if you haven’t noticed.’
‘. . .’

‘Well, it’s already working, Dhruv. No matter how badass you are, right now,