Heartbeats and Boardrooms

twelve

Vidhi's words hung in the air like a heavy mist, settling around Yuvraj with an unexpected weight. The hospital room seemed to close in as he absorbed the gravity of her revelation.

"Yuvraj, your dad's cardiac output isn't good. His heart is rapidly deteriorating, and the corticosteroids have stopped working," she explained, her voice measured but laced with concern. "I'm planning to perform surgery to implant VADs, that will provide mechanical support until a donor heart becomes available."

Yuvraj's breath caught, his eyes reflecting a mix of shock and despair. "I'll find a heart, Vidhi. We'll proceed with the heart surgery. We can't let it come to the worst-case scenario."

Vidhi, struggling with a surge of frustration, responded, "Yuvraj, it's not that simple. You can't just buy a heart like any other commodity." Her words carried a sharp edge, a reaction to the implication that financial means couldn't untangle the complexities of organ transplantation.

The room held a charged silence as she continued, "Heart transplants operate on a waiting list system. Patients are prioritised based on the severity of their condition, compatibility, and how long they've been on the list. It's a complex process, and while resources can help, finding a suitable donor involves numerous factors beyond financial capabilities."

Yuvraj, the weight of reality settling on his shoulders, nodded solemnly. Vidhi keenly observed the cracks forming in his facade, witnessing the strength he so desperately clung to crumbling before her eyes. His straight face, a stoic mask concealing the pain that surged beneath, clenched Vidhi's heart with an ache of empathy.

"Yuvraj, are you okay?" Vidhi gently asked, her concern evident in the softness of her voice. The sterile hospital room seemed to amplify the vulnerability of the moment, each breath carrying the weight of uncertainty. She waited, recognizing the profound impact of the news on a son desperate to save his father.

"Yeah," Yuvraj responded with a swift motion, rising from his seat. Vidhi didn't miss the subtle glisten in his eyes as he turned away, attempting to mask the depth of his emotions. "Sorry, doctor. I'll come by in a few minutes to discuss the further process. I need to make an important call," he stated, already moving towards the exit.

"Wait, Yuvraj," Vidhi called out, a hint of urgency in her voice. She rose from her chair and walked briskly toward him. "I know you need time. You can use my office. I'll be out, when you think you're ready to speak. Just give me a call."

Yuvraj reached out and gently held Vidhi's hand, stopping her from leaving. She turned around, their eyes meeting. The vulnerability in Yuvraj's eyes reminded Vidhi of a younger version of him – the one who cried in her arms when her father's harsh blows hurt her again, and he felt powerless to intervene.

But here, in front of her, was a different person. Yuvraj stood tall, his appearance reflecting the outward composure he attempted to maintain. His well-tailored suit and carefully styled hair conveyed a sense of control, yet his eyes remained unchanged – windows to the vulnerability that lingered within. It was as if time had sculpted a more resilient exterior, but the essence of those eyes remained a poignant reminder of the kind and empathetic person he was back in the days.

"Stay," Yuvraj said, a single tear tracing its path down his face. Vidhi nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of the moment, and watched as he retreated to the nearby couch. The dimly lit office embraced the city lights filtering through the window, casting a subdued glow on their faces.

Vidhi observed him slouching on the couch, his face buried in his palms, shoulders heaving with heavy breaths. Her heart clenched for him; she was well aware of the depth of Yuvraj's love for his dad. The silence in the room was filled with unspoken emotions, the weight of impending decisions hanging in the air.