Page 192 - Till the Last Breath . . .

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Zarah Mirza

It was her sixth cup of coffee that morning, each one stronger than the last.

Had her system not been used to the regular caffeine intake, her heart would
have pumped itself out of her chest. She needed it. Her senior doctor was

performing an experimental surgery on his patient and if he were to get
caught, there were chances of her being in trouble too. She could lose her

licence as well, and not by too long a shot at that. If that wasn’t enough,
there was the news of Dushyant’s ex-girlfriend—the one that got away—
hanging around Dushyant’s room, holding his hand, and trying to evoke

feelings of lost love. That bitch!
What really peeved her was the cloud of uncertainty on Dushyant’s face

when he talked about Kajal and whether he should talk to her. Kajal wasn’t
the one who was with him when he had almost died or when he was
admitted and everyone thought he was an asshole. It was her! On certain

levels, she felt betrayed. Cheated. On others, she felt extremely stupid for
he was just another patient. If that wasn’t enough, it was a patient who

might not see the next dawn. I can’t possibly like him, it’s stupid! This is
insane!

The words, the diseases, and the insurance forms she had to fill up
blurred and she couldn’t think of anything else but Dushyant. Every passing

moment became a mockery of her good sense and her pedigree. But it
happens, right? Even Arman, a doctor far more experienced, clearly
harboured feelings which were more than just concern for a patient he could

potentially save. Irritated, she gulped down the hot coffee, singeing her
tongue, and tried harder to concentrate. After the first few treacherous

minutes, she managed to boot out the thoughts of Dushyant from her head