Abhimanyu swung the stethoscope over his neck, resting it on his shoulders as he opened the door to his elderly patient, Mrs. Barganza's room.
"Hi there, Cutie. How you doing?" Abhimanyu asked, flashing her with his most charming smile as he sat down on the stool beside her bed.
Mrs. Barganza giggled as a faint blush marred her wrinkly cheeks. "Hi there, Hottie. I'm doing okay, as you can see."
"I do see." Abhimanyu replied, making a quick scan through of Mrs. Barganza's test results. "What is it that Dr. Rohan is telling me? Your cholesterol and blood-sugar levels are giving you trouble again."
"Are they?" Mrs. Barganza replied, innocently.
"What have you been eating?"
"I may have been eating snacks and sweets. But to be fair, it was my grandson's birthday and then my great-granddaughter's a week later." She admitted, sheepishly. "Or maybe I just missed you."
"Cutie, next time you miss me, you can just call me. I'd happily pay you a house visit." He flirted with Mrs. Barganza, making her blush. "No need for you to get your health into trouble. You have to take care of yourself okay, Cutie? Be a good girl? For me?" He spoke gently, but sternly.
Mrs. Barganza nodded her head, giving him her most promising smile. "Yes, I promise."
Abhimanyu covered the hands resting on her lap with his, gently tapping them. "Good. Because I need my best girl to be happy and healthy."
Mrs. Barganza giggled. "Yes." And after a small pause, she continued, "You remind me so much of Max. He was as flirty as you. And he used to take care of me just like you do."
Abhimanyu felt Mrs. Barganza getting emotional. "Just so you know, Max passed the duty of taking care of you onto me. The flirting though, that's all me. Because how can I not flirt with a Cutie like you?" He replied, cheerily, making Mrs. Barganza smile.
"Exactly." She agreed.
Just then Abhimanyu felt his pager go off. "I wish I could spend more time with you but unfortunately there are other patients that require my attention. But before I go, I'll make sure Dr. Rohan sets you up a discharge time, okay?"
"Okay." Mrs. Barganza nodded her head in understanding.
Abhimanyu got up from te stool and stood to face Dr. Rohan. "Run her tests again, and if everything turns out fine, set up a discharge time."
"Yes sir." Dr. Rohan quickly jotted down the tests that needed to be completed as Abhimanyu exited the room, shutting the door behind him.
~*~
Abhimanyu walked out of Mrs. Barganza's room and took out his pager. His next patient —a 17 year old teenager named Karan —was ready to see him.
"Abhimanyu, my cabin. Now." Sir —Harshvardhan Birla materialized out of thin air, and stood in front of him.
"Sorry, can't. Have another patient that requires my attention." He mentioned casually, flinging his pager in front of him, blatantly choosing to ignore Harshvardhan Birla's command.
Knowing he had no option but to aggregate his son, Harshvardhan Birla pulled the pager out of his son's hands. "The patient can wait. What I need to discuss with you can't. My cabin. Now!"
Impressed by his father's tactics of snatching the pager from right under his nose, Abhimanyu grumpily strolled towards Sir's cabin, with Harshvardhan Birla following closely behind, making sure his son did it deviate from his path.
Both the father and son had zero trust in each other, and honestly, that suited Abhimanyu just fine.
Abhimanyu walked into the cabin with Harshvardhan following closely behind. Once inside the cabin, Harshvardhan took his chair at the head of his desk whilst Abhimanyu chose to actively stand. He just wanted out.
"Sit."
"No, thanks. I prefer to stand."
"Sit down, Abhimanyu."
"Nah, I'm good."
"Abhimanyu, do you always have to be this difficult?" Harshvardhan grit out, tired of his son's disobedience.
"Are you going to start talking now or do you want me to leave?"
Exasperated, Harshvardhan Birla gave up on trying to ingrain manners into his son's head and instead started talking about the matters on hand.
"I hope the girl is settling in fine. No trouble I hope?"
Abhimanyu's eyes flared and his mind flashed to earlier this morning —and the way his hand was shoved inside the little flimsy piece of clothing she called shorts.
"Yes. No trouble."
"Good. So I have spoken with Richa. The tabloids apparently did not create as big of a buzz about your wedding as we hoped. Apparently they think you're playing some sort of practical joke on them. And they refuse to be fooled."
"I mean they aren't wrong. My life has turned into a joke...practically."
"So that brings me to the next point. The hospital's annual charity gala is coming up in 2 days. The entire board is going to be there. And I expect you and the girl —
"Akshara." Abhimanyu interrupted him, tired of his father referring to her as the girl.
"Excuse me?" Harshvardhan responded, caught off guard.
"Her name —my wife's name is Akshara. Not the girl. Respect the name. Respect her." He corrected, leaving no room for argument.
He did not know why it irked him that Akshara kept being referred to as "the girl." She had a name. A beautiful one at that. He may not be a musician or an artist but her name sure as hell sounded like a melody rolling off the tip of his tongue.
Akshara.
"Yes, fine. Akshara. I expect you and Akshara to be on your best behaviours —especially you and actually present yourself as true husband and wife. The charity gala doesn't leave room for error Abhimanyu. Everyone —the whose who of Mumbai will be there." Harshvardhan warned.
"Yes, sir!" Abhimanyu graced Harshvardhan with a soldier's salute.
"I'm not joking, Abhimanyu."
"Do you see me laughing?" Abhimanyu argued back.
Harshvardhan sighed, knowing there was no point arguing with his son. "And the third thing. I did talk to Bhaisaab about the thing you mentioned. Trying to get him on board...."
Abhimanyu's heart began to palpitate. "And?" He asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
"He doesn't think it is fiscally responsible for us to do that. We'd be spending more money than earning it."
Money.
Money.
It was always about the damned money.
And just like that, anger started to build up inside him, line a flame being doused by gasoline.
"Sorry, Abhimanyu. I tried." Harshvardhan responded, apologetically.
"Sure. You tried." Abhimanyu grunted, knowing damn well his father didn't try for shit.
"Abhimanyu..."
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have patients to attend to." Abhimanyu grit out, trying to compartmentalize his anger as he got up from his chair and walked out of Harshvardhan Birla's office, slamming the door shut behind him.
~*~
Abhimanyu glanced at the file in his hand as he stood outside his next patient, Karan's room, waiting.
10...9...8...Deep breath, Abhimanyu...7...6...5...
Abhimanyu counted down from 10, just like he always did, to calm down, to keep his anger at bay. Quarreling with Sir, even though it had become almost a regular occurrence, always resulted in a damper being put on his mood. Especially if those conversations happened so early in the day.
4...3...Breathe in, breathe out...2...1.
Putting a smile on his face, and relaxing his shoulders, Abhimanyu opened the door and strolled inside.
"Hi there, I'm Dr. Birla, and I will be attending to you today. Now let's get started..."
~*~
Abhimanyu exited his cabin, ready to call it a day. Today had been eventful to say the least. And he was just ready to put everything behind him, go home and enjoy a good nights sleep.
That is until he bumped into him.
Just fucking what I needed, Abhimanyu cursed, putting on his best smile for cousin dearest.
"Is it true? The grapevine says you got yourself a wife? The playboy of Birla Hospital got himself an old ball and chain. Is it so?" Parth Birla, his elder cousin and his nemesis questioned Abhimanyu, blocking his path with a sheepish smile.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Is that what Shefali bhabhi is to you? I don't think she'll be too impressed if I tell her you think of her as an old ball and chain." Abhimanyu scoffed in retaliation.
"I see you aren't wearing your ring. Still trying to tap in to the singles market are you?"
"Look at you, you're wearing a ring but that doesn't stop you, does it?" Two can play the game, Parth.
Parth's provoking smile turned into a frown at Abhimanyu's reply. "You do know the board will see through your charade. It's just a matter of them meeting your wife."
"Calling my very legal and very real marriage a farce. Isn't that going a bit too far? Feeling threatened are you?" Abhimanyu replied, sheepishly.
"Threatened? Me? Nope. Not at all. Just looking forward to getting to know your wife a little bit better. We will be getting to meet her, I assume?" Parth probed, making Abhimanyu fist his palm to his side. "At the hospital's annual charity gala of course? I am curious to meet the girl who dared to lock down the infamous playboy. She's practically a celebrity." He
Calm Abhimanyu. Calm.
The only way to beat Parth is at his own game. He's being nice to you, be extra sweet to him —enough to give him type 1 diabetes.
"Of course! I'll see to it that Shefali bhabhi and her become best of friends." Abhimanyu replied, mockingly, in silent warning. "And if you're a good boy, who knows, you may get an autograph too. Can't disappoint the fans you know." Abhimanyu grinned mischievously, not letting Parth's words affect him.
Abhimanyu watched with utter satisfaction as the mocking smile on Parth's lips turned upside down and frown lines began to form on his forehead.
"I'll see you tomorrow then." Parth forced the words out of his mouth, trying his best to maintain his posture.
"You betcha." Abhimanyu pointed his makeshift finger guns at Parth before he walked off in pride. Serves that asshole right in trying to meddle in his business.
Abhimanyu glanced at his watch to see it was about a quarter past 10. Feeling his body beginning to ache, he rubbed the nape of his neck, closing his eyes for a millisecond as he made his way out the doors of the Birla Hospital. He was glad he'd be going home and finally getting to grab a beer, put on some sports or a movie and just...relax.
Bumping into Parth always put him in a bad mood. He hated his cousin with a passion. And to top that off, he had to even deal with his da—Sir today, a double whammy. Yeah, he was really going to need that beer. Or maybe a drink or two of whisky—neat too.
Except he forgot about one tiny detail —no, scratch that. The one tiny human that was waiting for him at home, ready to wreak havoc into his life.
Akshara.
His wife.
Fuck.