SIYA - RAM

Ch-1

BOOK STARTED - JAN 2025

BOOK COMPLETED - 11 MARCH 2026

Your admission is done. After a week you will join the college, and on that same day you can collect your ID card, registration certificate, and other documents… okay?” he asked.

“Okay,” I replied slowly.

“And these are all my books and notes. If you want or feel comfortable, you can use them for studying. And if you need anything else, you can tell me,” he informed me again.

“No, this is more than enough. Thank you. You are already doing so much for me,” I replied.

“You don’t have to thank me. I am your hu… husband, and it’s my responsibility to fulfill all your needs and demands,” he said, stuttering a little.

“But I don’t consider you my husband.”
“You can never be my husband… not even in your dreams,” I replied rudely.

With a sad smile he said, “I know you don’t consider me your husband, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am your husband and you are my wife. We are tied together for the rest of our lives.
Don’t worry, I will never ask for anything or do anything that will make you feel like I’m showing my rights as your husband. So rest assured. Focus on becoming a good doctor. That’s it.”

“Good that you already know this. And one more thing—I don’t want anyone, not even a single person in the hospital, to know that I am the wife of Dr.

Vikramaditya Varma, the Head of the Surgery Department. Got it?” I asked rudely.

“Okay… but aren’t you Mrs. Siya Vikramaditya Varma?” he said with an innocent smile.

I don’t know why, but hearing my name like that did something to me. I wished I could remove this Vikramaditya Varma from my name.

Hearing my silence, his smile dropped.
“Okay, I won’t say it to anyone. Never. But what about Papa? He is the dean of the hospital. If he—”

“No need to think about that. I have already requested him, and he agreed. He said it would be better for me,” I interrupted him rudely.

“I’m sleepy. I’ll take the couch since it might be uncomfortable for you, and I don’t want to argue about this,” I said nervously.

With a small smile, he nodded.

He kept the laptop on the table, switched off the lights, and walked out to the balcony, closing the door behind him.

He lit a cigarette and took a drag, trying to calm his nerves.

He wasn’t a chain smoker or anything. It was just once in a while, when he was extremely tense.

He had picked up this habit during his college days, but after a few years he controlled it. Now he only smoked once in a blue moon.

He was a heart surgeon. He had written many medical books that were used as academic texts and guides.

He had only three obsessions in life:

his work,

his gym and health,

and his black coffee—only one cup a day, unless there was heavy work pressure.

He wasn’t some handsome Greek god or anything.

Just a normal man in his early thirties who maintained himself well and dressed neatly. He wore glasses because years of late-night studying had affected his eyesight.

In his family there were four people—his parents, himself, and his wife.

His father was also a doctor, currently the dean and chairperson of the hospital.