I pick up the phone beeping on my night stand, standing half-naked amidst the room. The caller-Id shows 'Alisha' in big white font, the background merging into a selfie of the both of us near the hospital.
I answer the call, bringing the phone to my ear. "Krithi! We really need you." Alisha starts blabbering. "Some doctors didn't come to work today. There's a few patients who are asking for their scheduled surgeons. And we don't have a doctor for a particularly important surgery. He will ruin the name of our hospital if you don't get here on time."
"Noted. I'm on my way." I end the call, not asking any more questions.
I turn towards Aniket, biting my lip. He has two dresses in his hands, comparing the both of them. "Aniket?" I murmur, my confidence suddenly deteriorating. He spent so much time last night planning our day, and I'm going to ruin it by attending to the emergency at my hospital.
I have no choice.
"Yeah?" He mutters, striding towards me to compare the dress against my body. "How's this?" He asks. The dress is completely white, the frills at the bottom ruffled and having small wild-flower patterns in pink, green and yellow. The top of the dress was completely made of satin, giving the clothing a elite look. I realize that he bought me the dress while we were out shopping for the gala.
It's hella expensive and I'm not wearing it. I already ruined one dress; I'm not ruining another.
"Uh, it's white. White and I are no-goes. Plus, I'll look like a freaking bride."
"What about this one?" He asks, handing me a turquoise dress with a thin-strapped golden belt stitched at the middle. It'll hide the baby bump, and it's long, so it will look conservative. I guess he does have more taste than I gave him credit for.
"I like it."
"Yeah?" He asks, smiling and taking the zipper of the dress down. He takes it off the hanger, kneeling on one knee to help me with it.
He's treating me like a princess, and I have no clue why. I don't deserve his love.
"I love you, Aniket." I murmur, and he looks up at me, shocked.
"I did not expect that. What's the occasion? You
never tell me that." I wank him on his head, and he chuckles at my behavior. "You are one agressive lady when you're pregnant. To think I have to deal with eight more months of this abuse...!"
"It might be more than eight months." I announce, giving him a hint that I want more children.
He stands, towering above me. "Isn't a pregnancy supposed to be ten months? I was a math champion, woman. I think I can do basic math."
"No, my dear dunderhead. I want to get pregnant even after the twins." I bite my lip, waiting for his response.
He groans. "So, no, um, you know?"
All men are the same, then.
"I think I'll go crazy with the overflow of estrogen." I exclaim, earning a wicked grin from him.
"You're insatiable." He says, shaking his head in disapproval.
"Alright then, you try being celibate for two years." I challenge him, and he laughs.
"I'll die, instead. You're such a tease already."
I roll my eyes, overcome with frustration. I want to tell him that I can't spend the day with him, but my mouth is betraying me in this crucial moment. I want to make him happy.
But I have worked hard to maintain my hospital; if I don't go now...
"Aniket? I have to tell you something."
"Yeah? What is it?" He asks, looking at me in the eyes.
"I have scheduled a surgery today. I have to be there. It'll only take a few hours. Then we can do whatever we want." I propose.
"What?" He asks, his hands going limp at his sides. "I had so much planned!" He turns, facing away from me. I know he's angry but there is no other choice. With or without his approval, my hospital and the patients inside it are my first priority.
"Aniket, when work calls, I have to attend to it. Your important to me, but there is a patient waiting for me to save his life. I have no other choice. Plus, my work makes me happy. Don't you want me to be happy?" I sniff.
Aniket hurls around, his eyes fixated on mine. "I do want you to be happy. But work doesn't make anyone joyous. Your work is something you do to live. You make a living out of it. It is not your life." He explains, folding his hands.
"This is urgent. I have to go. You either come with me or I'm taking my motorcycle." I demand, and he sighs, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.
"Fine. But you better finish the surgery quickly."
"It doesn't work like that, darlin'." I laugh at his naivety. "I have to analyze his condition, prepare him for surgery—
"Blah, blah. I don't care. Now, c'mon, let's get this dress on you."
*****************************************
"I want to drive!" I call out, running down the stairs. My mother proposed that she will take care of Aruvi today, so I can spend time with my husband. After all, it is my birthday.
"Krithi!" Aniket turns, facing me. I wave the Keys at him, signaling to him that I have it.
My neighbor, a nosy woman who 'likes gardening,' is glaring at me as if there has been a new law entailing that woman cannot run. Sexist woman do exist, then.
"Hi, Mrs. Chandran!" I wave at her, and she turns her face, pretending that she did not notice me as she waters her flowers.
God bless that woman. I didn't want to talk to her either. Maybe she can read minds too?
I start to gasp, running out of breath. I walk the rest of the way, kneeling over for air as I reach Aniket.
Aniket leans down to my level, and smirks. "Now, if you had walked here, like a proper lady, you didn't have to deal with your lungs protesting." He pauses, putting a hand on his chin. "Although, your not proper or a lady, so I guess that's why you did it."
I do not want the nosy lady to have any gossip in her housewife club (which I'm pretty sure my mother is involved in too), but I really have the urge to slap my husband.
"Very funny." I mock him, as I am horrible at comebacks. "But, I want to drive. Please?"
"It's not safe. Plus, I heard you were a lousy driver."
"Lousy? Who told you?" Okay, maybe I shouldn't have asked that, since I just gave away that I'm a awful driver.
Once, I almost ran over three elderly ladies at the park. Don't ask me why my car was at the freaking park, because I cannot answer that.
"A little birdie." I snort, my mother is more of a giant dinosaur. Birds and dinosaurs are related too, so it's somewhat of a contradiction. "I'm driving." He asserts.
What is it with men and driving? I decide, then and there, that Aniket's ego is already big enough with his good looks and riches. "You can, but I don't think you can turn on the motorcycle without a key." I wave the key in his face. His eyes dangle left and right, and he reaches up to grab it out of my hands. I swipe it away at the last moment, sticking my tongue out at him.
"Real mature, Dr. Mrs. Pandya. Now, hand me the keys." He orders, waving his hands toward him.
"Nah, uh." I mock childishly.
I move to climb onto my bike, but he blocks my way, grabbing onto my waist and pulling me into his chest. My lips suddenly meets with his lips, moving mine in sync to his beat. I hear a loud gasp behind me, followed by the sound of the railing of the curtains inside my house opening widely. The small hairs on my arm rise as I lean into the kiss.
He uses my momentous stupor as an advantage, snatching the keys out of my hands. He pulls out of the kiss, while I breathe like a hyena after battling with a elephant.
Two can play this game.
I close our three inch gap, sliding my hands under his white sweater. He stiffens, his eyes widening like his brand new iPhone has been broken.
I hear metal resounding on the ground. It's probably the nosy neighbor dropping her watering can.
My lips latch onto his neck, biting into the flesh on his collarbone. He gasps in shock, groaning in his frustration. I use his short surprise to grab the keys back, backing away from him before I take it too far.
Aniket swoons, pretending to faint. I stifle a giggle, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively like a caterpillar crawling out of danger. He shakes his head, grinning at me wolfishly. He strides towards me, rising his arms to catch me. I duck under his arms, lifting my legs and climbing over my bike. I tuck my dress between my thighs, fabricating shorts for myself.
"Ready?" I ask the gasping Aniket.
"I'll get you back, little minx."
"Sure." I dismiss his playful threat. "Now, Mr. Pandya, climb aboard on the fun train."
He narrows his eyes at me, but does as I say nonetheless.
I speed through the road half a minute later, forcing Aniket to clutch his arms around my waist.
My hair whips through the air and Aniket props towards my head, inhaling the scent of my hair. My hand unconsciously shakes, and the bike convulses under my mistake.
"See, you can't drive properly." He argues.
Jerk.
My hands automatically stop quivering and I can practically hear the shocked commentary in his head.
I smirk. I always win. Losing is like handing over my life over to the pitcher in a baseball team; it's like giving someone else the chance to play my life.
In my game, I'm the base runner. I have the controls, I reign my reigns.
***************************************
I am ecstatic as I enter the operation theatre. The pre-surgery examinations is the most tedious work in the world. I shove my hands through the white gloves, a newfound spring in my step catapulting me through the threshold of the room. Other surgeons from the general surgery ward are prepared, readying the patient. The anesthesiologist stands to one side, or as I like to call her (in my head, of course) the Tranquilizer.
She hurries off at the sight of me, removing her gloves as she leaves behind one of her doctor friends to take care. What did I do?
Oh yes, my anger party when Aniket had attempted suicide probably made the shy middle-aged woman scared of me. But hey, I wasn't the freaking reaper. There was no reason to be afraid of me.
"Shall we start?" I ask, inhaling the familiar scent of the operation room. Ah, my second home feels so much more cosy than the one I paid two million rupees for.
I could almost stay here forever.
The other doctors, however, are less enthusiastic, nodding in coffee-induced state.
This is one of million reasons why you should take drugs.
"Alright, then. Let's cut him open." I exclaim, moving toward my patient, slapping the thin band of the gloves against my wrist.
This might be the best birthday gift ever.
**************************************