Page 29 of Born in Grief

After a beat of uncomfortable silence, Amay said, “Okay then. I just came by to-“ he stopped talking, seemingly at a loss for words.

Dhrithi turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “To?” she asked.

“To tell you that,” he finished, rubbing one hand through his hair in a gesture so reminiscent of the boy she’d known through her schooldays, the boy he’d once been, that Dhrithi’s throat seized with emotion, making any further speech impossible.

"I'll go then," he said, taking her silence for hostility.

Dhrithi nodded, unable to get a word out. Her grief over the ‘what ifs’ in her life were too strong for words. Amay was almost to the door before he stopped. He took a deep breath, his shoulders seemingly dropping in defeat. He turned back to face her, his hands going to his hips as he stared her down.

“Where are your parents, Dhrithi?”

She shrugged. “Probably at their home.”

His brows lowered into a ferocious frown. “Nobody’s staying with you tonight? Friends? Family?”

She shrugged again. “I’m almost fully healed, remember? I don’t need anybody to stay at the hospital with me.”

Silence met her answer. He continued to stand there, hands on his hips, glowering at her like she’d committed some cardinal sin.

“Nobody everneedsanything,” he said finally, his quiet voice slicing through her shaky bravado. “Doesn’t mean we don’t want it anyway.”

Dhrithi shut her eyes, shutting him out. “I don’twantthem staying with me either. If there’s nothing else, Doctor, I’d like to rest now.”

She heard him sigh, a weighty exhale that seemed to balloon through the still silence of the room.

“Dhrithi-“

“Go away, Amay,” she whispered. “Don’t dig through the debris of my life. It won’t do either of us any good.”

She heard the door open and shut a second later. She didn’t need to look to know he’d left. She always knew when the space around her didn’t include Amay Aatre.

Chapter Eighteen

AMAY

Amay sat in his little cabin, staring at the lit screen of his laptop, the medical research he was supposedly reading going right over his head. It was past ten at night. His shift was done. He should leave.

Go away Amay.

His fingers clenched around the mouse, his mind going a mile a minute. He should go away, he thought. He should go home and get some sleep. He should walk away and not look back. He knew what he should do. He also knew what it was hewasgoing to do.

A message pinged through on his phone, and he swiped the screen open, welcoming the distraction.

Ishaan: I don’t have good news.

Amay sighed. Of course, he didn’t. Ishaan never had good news. The Grinch at Christmas had more good news than him. Amay scrubbed a hand through his hair, turning the possibilities over in his head before starting to type out a response. But before hecould send it, another message come through on the group chat, The Big Dicks.

Virat: When do you ever have good news?

Amay smiled. Some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

Ishaan: Viru meri jaan, for the first time ever, I have news you don’t have.

Virat: I’m assuming you’re talking about the fact that Gokhale Sr. blocked the warrant?

Amay’s pulse jumped, a skittering hop. This was good news, wasn’t it? Why did Ishaan think it wasn’t?

Ishaan: Way to steal my thunder, dickhead!

---