Page 151 - Till the Last Breath . . .

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Dushyant Roy

Dushyant winced in pain as a syringe plunged into his vein and a

transparent liquid was pumped into his bloodstream. His eyes were stuck to
the bed next to him—empty. Zarah overlooked the administering of the

medicine and the subsequent blood draw.
‘You look distracted,’ Zarah noticed.

Dushyant looked away from Pihu’s bed and replied, ‘Not really. You
didn’t come in the morning. Why?’
‘My parents are living with me. They wanted me to spend some time

with them. So I took the day off,’ she said and rolled her eyes.
‘You look sad.’

‘I can’t stay at home any longer,’ she said. ‘It’s okay when I go to their
place … I mean where I used to live, but not when they come over.’
‘I can understand.’

‘I don’t think you can,’ she fussed.
‘Why don’t you make me?’ he asked. ‘Is it done?’ he asked the nurse

who was constantly plunging needles into him. The nurse nodded and took
her leave.

‘You look tolerable today. What’s the matter?’ she queried with a smirk.
‘What do you mean?’

‘Usually, it’s hard for people to stay around you. You’re aggressive and
unnecessarily rude, and don’t tell me you don’t know that.’
‘I am not—’

‘Oh, please, you are,’ she cut him off.
‘Whatever. By the way, why didn’t you tell me that she diagnosed my

illness? Did she really?’ he asked. ‘Or was Arman just blabbering?’