Page 89 - Till the Last Breath . . .

‘I am looking forward to it. Though I might have a problem with

choosing what I’ll wear. I am thinking of being a little bold and wearing the
blue robe instead. Or … I don’t know. I am having trouble deciding.’
They laughed till their stomachs hurt and till Dushyant writhed in his

sleep.
‘I will be back soon,’ Arman said and headed for the door.

‘Dr Arman?’ she called out.
‘Yes?’

‘Did you really call my college?’
‘No, I didn’t. But no one who’s dying would read all the books lined on

your side table. Four out of those fifteen books are on surgery,’ he said.
‘You’re smart,’ she said and winked. ‘And you’re cute!’
‘People tell me,’ he replied. ‘And I am not thirty-five. I am younger.

Much younger.’ He left the room.
His steps were unsteady as he trudged back to his office. His head felt

strange and for the first time in years, he didn’t feel like going with his gut.
In other cases, he would have just started the treatment, putting everything

on the line. Never ever did he think twice before putting a patient’s life at
risk for what he believed in. He knew he would save them. Eventually.

But this time, he wasn’t sure.
The smile. The childlike wink with both eyes. The promised date. They
haunted him, pricking him like little pins in his heart and in his head, a

strange mix of pain and pleasure quite like acupuncture, through the day, as
he mechanically worked around patients and reports.

She is just a kid, he told himself.