His eyes teared up.
Her thumb pressed into the corner of his eye, wiping the dampness before it even began to flow.
“Don’t do this to me.”
“Don’t do this tome.”
“Don’t see me like this.”
“Everything else has blurred.” She pressed her forehead to his, sitting down on her haunches in front of him. Her hand patted his hair. “Everything else but you has blurred,” she whispered, the scent of her lilies killing all the sterile smells of the room.
“What’s going on outside?” He asked, swallowing the lump in his throat and needing to bring this to an unemotional place. He couldn’t do more than this with her right now.
“Everything is good,” she answered immediately. Too immediately.
“Something has happened.”
Her eyes stuttered. The blue was cerulean but the white was reddened. He had seen her three times every day and it had not been reddened then. Samar’s mind began to whirr. After days of haze, he started to think about the here and the now again. His visitors had been limited to Amaal, Adil and Qureshi. Atharva was nowhere to be seen. Iram’s name had not been said again after that first night when Atharva had told him that she and the babies were safe at home.
“Atharva,” Samar asked. “Where is he?”
“He is busy, but he will come…”
“An assassination attempt was made on the CM’s wife in his house.” Samar recounted. “How many days have passed?”
She stroked her hand gently over his forehead. “A few.”
“What has happened?”
“Nothing has happened.”
The Atharva he knew would not sit quietly. And the Atharva he had spoken to on the first night would not rest without coming here at least once a day.
“Do not lie to me!” He thundered, feeling flesh tear apart in his back.
“Samar, quiet,” she shot to her feet just as a nurse came running in.
“I’m sorry,” Amaal strode to her. “I’m sorry….” She said to the nurse.
“Please go out, Madam. We cannot have the patient…”
“Stop calling me the patient!” He yelled.
“Please, Madam.”
“Amaal!”
She looked at him over her shoulder, then immediately opened the door and scuttled away.
“Amaal! Don’t you run!!”
“Sir, calm down. Your grafts are tender…”
Samar breathed through his mouth. If he didn’t die of dehydration or infection, a heart attack was sure going to take him.
————————————————————
Samar opened his eyes again when he heard the click of the door. A pair of dark pants under scrubs came into his vision. He raised his eyes. Squinted. The room had been kept dark after his last outburst, tricking his body into believing it was night.
