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Arya was the easiest to console. Being so young, only 11 years old, Aarohi could distract and cuddle her until she fell asleep. Arya was like Akshara in this way; like a sponge, she'd soak up every bit of affection she could get and revel in it.

Abhir, on the other hand, was Abhimanyu's son through and through. Abhir knew what it was to love and lose his most cherished people, Abhinav and Akshara. His heart became diseased, its muscles stiff and scarred from loving too hard and too often. But, like his father, that never stopped him from devoting himself to his relationships. Arya was his baby, and Ruhi was his best friend. Should anything befall them, he'd stand before them like a shield. He'd put his dard behind and rise early on his mother's death anniversary to fry kachoris from Arya and his Dadda. Luckily for them, at 17, he's become quite a chef. Ruhi would get up with him, too, groggy-eyed in her FRIENDS pj's, getting the pooja tray ready with her Maasi's Oh Kanha recording.

Abhimanyu could hear their bustling downstairs to celebrate his Akshu and braced himself for his performance. Sitting in front of the mirror, he rehearsed his smile. He'd keep up until his kids left school, and then, he'd rush to his sanctuary, the hospital, where no facade was necessary.





"Yeh raat bheegi bheegi, ye mast fizaayein, Utha dheere dheere Woh chaand pyara pyara" Mahi hummed, signing off on her charts for the night. Nurse Practitioner Abdul Ali played along, strumming an imaginary guitar. They laughed together until a figure appeared behind her and scared the smile off of the young man's face. Mahi turned around, perplexed. It was Abhimanyu, but it also wasn't. His arms were stiff at his side, and his eyes narrowed as if opening them more would expose his vision to a vexing sight.

"Dr. Mehra, this is a hospital, not a concert stadium. Do you feel it's appropriate to be singing while urgent care patients in agonizing pain surround you?"

"No, Sir." To Abhimanyu, Mahi looked down like an embarrassed student and was afraid to meet their professor's eyes. But her voice said otherwise. There was a hint of skepticism, some questions bubbling in her mind. "Main bas jaa hi rahi thi, meri shift katam ho gayi hai."

"Then collect your belongings and leave the premises so others," Abhimanyu glowered at Nurse Ali, "can focus on their duties."

"Yes, Sir!" She stomped her foot and saluted like a cadet. Walking away, she exhaled a giant exhale and mock wiped some sweat off her forehead. "Good grief."








Abhimanyu wrapped up his patients for the night and hurried to his office. He was anxious for his solitude, his safe haven stocked with his support.

His phone rang right when he was going to open his door.

"Poppy, aap abhi hospital mein hai, na?" Roohi's anxious voice got his blood racing. She's never called him at 3 a.m. without good cause. Was Abhir okay?

"Haan Roohi, kya hua? Main ghar aayon? Koi emergency hai?"

"Nahi ghar pe main aur Matashree ne sab handle kiya hai, woh bas-" her voice ran off.

"Woh bas?"

"Naaz ne call kiya thi. Woh aur uski Nani bahut pareshaan thi. Mahi ghar nahi aayi aur-"

"Aur uski shift paanch ghante pehle katam ho chuki hai"- he finished her sentence. This girl, he clenched his fists, thinking of Mahi's negligence.

"Itni raat hai aur-"

"I'll find her, Roo." He cut the call and stared through the small window at his door, letting him peak in and see the rich bottle of bourbon beside Akshu's photo on his couch, just calling to him. Come. He bite his lip back to contain himself.

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