Page 9 of No Other Love

I shushed my heart and walked-ran toward the cafeteria.

The hospital cafeteria was a spacious, humming space filled with the aromas ofvada paav(spicy mashed potato fritters) and stale chai all mixed in with antiseptic and floor cleaner. The lighting was dim, and the furniture was functional. But it had a special section reserved only for practicing and visiting doctors.

A group of white coats had gathered around one table and, I knew, that’s where he was.

Saint Vikrant – holding court with his admiring subjects. Resentment rose up in my throat, killing the pleasure andanticipation of seeing the man I adored and still dreamed of, even though I knew how hopeless it was.

To be fair, Vikrant didn’t court people. In fact, he was aloof and a little shy. Always had been. Even back in college.

I was the one who’d spoken to him after awholemonth of utter silence from him during Basics of Anatomy class. It was just a simple thing, I’d borrowed a pen. But I had done it.

I asked him out at the end of the first semester. I kissed him on our fifth date. I made my ‘move’ during the camping trip summer vacation and we shared a tent for the night. And I suggested getting married after we had both received our job offers.

He’d just gone along with everything.

But not in the end. No, in the end, he’d put his foot down and picked being a damn saint than be with me and support me.

Worse, he’d picked hisfamilyover me.

Righteous anger and resentment filled the empty spaces where hopeless love for him still lived inside me, so my eyes flashed a special kind of flint when I stalked toward the group.

***

‘So, tell us about running a hospital for the poor people, doc?’ Dr. Vinod Swamy asked with a snicker.

I closed my eyes as I heard my husband’s reluctant laugh after a year. It was low, throaty, entirely too masculine for my peace of mind. It was melting my bitterness. I couldn’t stand it.

‘Don’t be silly, Swamy,’ I said airily, as I shouldered my way to the forefront of the crowd of admirers. ‘Vik isn’t running acharitable hospital. It’s a small clinic in the middle of nowhere. And,” I aimed a nasty, vicious smile at poor Swamy. ‘I’ve seen the houses in Aronda. None of them are poor, man.’

Swamy smiled uncertainly, while an awkward silence reigned around the group.

‘Anika, I thought you were in the NICU,’ Dr. Anu said, finally. ‘I was just going to text you, but you know how bad the network is on the fifth floor.’

Anu had tried to mediate between Vikrant and me back when a mediation might have actually worked between us.

‘Yep, I know,’ I gave her a small smile.

I still didn’t look at Vikrant, even though I knew I had his attention. Say what you will, but the man was predictable. If I was anywhere in the vicinity; he was looking at me. Silent, with intense focus. Too bad that was all he did.

Talking was not his strong suit.

I couldn’t believe I found his silent brooding hot, once upon a time. What a silly, immature girl I was.

The silence continued for a few more seconds before Dr. Tripathi cleared his throat as his phone beeped. ‘Hey, look at that. I have a patient to look at. So nice to have you back, Vikrant.’ He slapped Vikrant on the shoulder. ‘We have to hang out outside of this hellhole before you leave again.’

‘Sure, Ashok. I’ll text you, okay?’

That was the secret cue for everyone to disperse until it was just Vikrant and me at the huge booth.

***

I remained standing and he was sitting.

He looked the absolute same – same scruffy beard, piercing, unreadable eyes. Maybe he’d lost a little bit of weight around the cheeks but the rest of him looked the same. Tall and vital and strong.

I hated him for it.

Finally, Vikrant broke the silence. He leaned back against the booth, resting one long arm on the headrest. ‘That wasn’t necessary, you know.’