Page 31 of Born in Grief

“I-“ Dhrithi pushed herself up on one elbow. “What are you doing?”

“I brought you stuff to help get through the night.”

“Stuff?” she repeated, staring at him like he’d grown an extra head.

“A book to read and umm…a pen.” He held both out to her.

Dhrithi stared at his hand like he was offering her a scorpion. “A pen?” she asked.

He didn’t blame her. That was a pretty odd thing to bring someone who was recuperating in a hospital bed. But the hospital shop hadn’t had much in stock. And he didn’t thinkDhrithi would want a soft toy or a balloon which had been the only other options.

“I brought M&M’s,” he said, knowing her weakness for candy. Ishaan’s memory of that was spot on.

“What are you doing here Amay?” Her voice sounded unbearably sad, not reaching for any of the things he was offering her. Tears welled in her eyes. “I told you to go away,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. “You need to go away. Far away.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve told me to go away.”

The memory of the last time she’d said that to him shimmered between them, a mirage of pain and anger.

“You went that time.”

“That Amay would never have denied you anything, Dhrithi.”

“And this Amay?”

“You have no power over this Amay.”

A single tear slipped past her impressive control, slowly trickling down one cheek. “Then why are you here?”

“You shouldn’t be alone, Dhriths.” His own voice softened, the walls he wanted to hide behind crumbling at the sight of the sorrow in her eyes. “No one should be alone.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“I feel a lot of things for you,” he replied, his voice deep and gravelly. “Pity is not one of them.”

“You should leave.”

“I should. I really should.” He threw himself into the only chair in the room and cracked open one of his printed medical research booklets. He used his teeth to remove the cap of his highlighter and got to work.

Acutely conscious of Dhrithi’s eyes on his face, he didn’t look her way. He continued working, eyes on his papers until he heard her breathing even out. It was then, and only then, that he allowed himself to look at her.

Her hair was pulled back into a fat, messy braid that fell over one shoulder. Her face was still too thin and drawn, her body too frail. She looked delicate and breakable. His gaze traced the healed cut across her lower lip and the fading bruises on her cheek and temple. The asshole had done his damnedest to break her.

Rage and anguish swirled within him, a toxic tempest of emotion at the thought of what she’d gone through, what Varun Gokhale had put her through.

But she chose him, he reminded himself. Not Amay.

She. Chose. Him.

Chapter Nineteen

DHRITHI

She’d passed the psychological evaluation with flying colours. The doctor had been impressed by how calm and composed she was. Calm and composed! A disbelieving snort escaped her as she watched the nurse remove her cannula. A slight sting and it slid right out. If only the rest of her problems would go away that easily.

“Mrs. Gokhale.”

Dhrithi looked up, the instinct to react to that name automatic and one she couldn’t suppress no matter how hard her soul cringed at the sound of it.

---