A second passed where he cursed himself a hundred times. She had not left, and now she was angry at him. What kind of hell was this!
“And!” She stalked back in, a kitchen cloth in hand. “Call that male nurse and keep him in your room. I am taking the hall. Don’t fucking dare come out here.” She hurled the cloth at him and stormed away again.
Samar stared at the cloth, defeated.
He let a few minutes pass. And then, he decided to face the firing squad.
He got up and took a second to gain balance. Once he was sure, he set out one hand on the wall and limped his way down the hall and the corridor. He glanced into the bedroom. It was empty. Of course, she wouldn’t venture there even at gunpoint now. He ought to have been grateful for the reprieve but his chest burned. Was it her rajma?
Samar entered the kitchen and found her back turned to him. She was staring out of the window, one hand on her forehead, sniffling. She was not crying, but this was the aftermath that he had caught. He walked on, holding up his buckling knee with a hand on the wall.
“Amaal.” He set his hand on the small of her back.
“Go.”
“Amaal.” He curved his hand around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. She resisted. His forehead fell on the back of her head. “I hate this.”
“What?”
“You haven’t seen it yet.”
Her whimpering stopped. She went still.
“Your scars don’t matter to me.”
“You don’t deserve them.”
“You don’t decide what I deserve.”
He circled her waist with both arms and pulled her in. This time she came, falling back on his chest where the sensation was still strong. His arms, his calves, some of his thighs and his back were at different stages of numbness.
“I am so much older, and we overlooked that. Now this is there, and it’s not getting better soon or maybe ever. How will you be ok with this? How will your parents ever be ok with this? Keep the things I’ve done on one side, I am still not out of my head. Last time it took me months and now…” he exhaled, inhaled. Lilies. “I can give up the little conscience I have left and embrace you here today but will I still be the man you were making of me? No.”
Amaal turned — “I am not giving up on you.” Fierce, blazing eyes met his. “Try as hard as you like. You will make me cry and make me fight back. It will be a waste of energy for both of us.”
He stared into her eyes. It was the most intimate he had been with anybody in his life. Covered from neck to toe, closing off his feelings to her, and still having her standing there like she was ready to embrace even that wall. Samar was at a loss with her. Again.
“What do you see with me?” He asked.
“If I sayeverything, you will not believe me. Because you yourself don’t see anything today. But I have come here from a day when Fahad called up telling me Samar Bhai is in an explosion and may not make it. I came here crying and kicking, fighting everything and you, every prognosis that predicted some failure, every scare before a surgery about you not making it, every infection that could turn into a death sentence. So, Samar, you can look at those scars and think I don’t deserve them but I look at you and see god giving me back so much more than what I begged for that day.” Her throat clogged.
His hand rose and cupped her cheek. “You are perfect. There is nothing about you that is even a little less.”
“Thank you.” She deadpanned.
Samar found his mouth breaking its scowl.
“I am sorry.”
“You should be.”
He pulled her into his chest and buried his face in her neck. “For all that I have done and all that I will do.”
“Willdo?”
“I trust myself.”
She laughed in his chest, squeezing him to the point of pain. He didn’t wince, letting her.
