Shape of the Sun

The Revolving Door and Other Things

Two days later. St. Paula Medical Hospital.

"I know it must be a bitter pill to swallow. You poor darling."

Blergh.

Prithvi was disgusted with the words coming out of his mouth. How crude and nauseating it was to keep on this merry-go-round.

A hand reached to adjust the collar of his polo. 

He felt icky given this disinfectant-saturated environment that he was in. Perhaps, the only thing keeping him tempered was that he finally got an in with that tramp that had infected him. She should be cooling off in a downtown London cell at the moment.

Tch. It was always the low lives that did the worst.

Oh, and that late-night call too. It was a pleasant surprise, to be honest. 

One would think that with this streak of good news, it wouldn't be so damn frustrating to get through to this living waste lying right in front of him. God missed the mark on this broken earthern vessel. It kept spouting salty tears nonstop.

"I-I can't believe he'd do such a thing to me. Raj..."

Ah. Even the sobbing made him want to hurl his insides.

"I understand your pain, darling. I really do." Was this keeping up with the Joneses?

Prithvi rose from the vinyl bariatric guest chair and approached the bed, taking in the sight of the crying lady with an IV line affixed to her arm and a blue hospital gown a size bigger than she was. It was either that or she was just really frail.

He hesitated before placing a hand on her arm that felt like it would break if he applied more pressure. Would it? Prithvi wondered...

"Anisha, I know that it is difficult knowing that your husband has been playing house with another woman." He went on as if he couldn't see her agitation. That was the point, wasn't it?

"Even worse, he has a baby on the way...Hmm? Someone's coming?" He stopped mid-sentence, his heightened senses attuning to the pair of feet shuffling right outside the door.

Haa. The hesitation was just spectacular. Perfect even.

Prithvi immediately pressed a finger to his lips and motioned to the bathroom behind him. Then he mouthed words to her.

"Someone's coming in. I'm in there."

And as if on cue, a signal that he get in there, the door handle turned left. Prithvi didn't waste any time either. He had never been the type to fuck around.

**************************************************************************

30 minutes prior.

London was always the warmest this time of the year. But not today. Rajkumar felt a chill on the inside today.

The first half of his day had been superb, to say the least. The folks over at Royal had his clearance on hand as soon as he arrived, not confident enough to face a lawsuit, and he had cheerfully boarded a train to the other side of town where his lawyers' chambers were situated, after a brief phone call with Manmeet. There, they had told him that Anisha had taken ill and was in the hospital. There, the chill began.

Rajkumar was feeling out of sorts as his hired cab got closer to St. Paula. He uneasily ran his fingers across the seatbelt's length as if the ribbed texture would give him succor.

The cab soon came to a stop.

"Sir, we are here."

"Yes, I know. Thank you very much."

He unbuckled the seatbelt with his right hand, the left holding out his phone so that it was close enough to scan the QR code on the driver's. Once the beep signaling an accepted payment came on, Rajkumar briefly nodded to the driver before alighting the cab, not forgetting to take his folder along. He shut the door and turned to face a rather large building with glass fittings that reminded him so much of the sanctuaries he had dedicated much of his adult life to.

St. Paula Medical Hospital. He hadn't been here since that conference four years ago?

"Dr. Reddy?"

There was a man in a distinct white coat standing out right the revolving doors. Rajkumar waved while climbing the stairs. Part of him noted the oddity of not wearing a similar coat on a hospital's premises, but it was also a reminder of how life was - like a revolving door.

"Dr. Yuvraj," he said upon arriving there, "Thank you for your time at such short notice."

The other man mumbled something incoherent but didn't refuse his outstretched hand. It was a brief shake. Afterward, Dr. Yuvraj motioned for him to step in first. His eyes only paused on the black leather folder in Rajkumar's left grip before moving on as if nothing happened.

Both men got in and quietly walked down the hallway on the right, Dr. Yuvraj only slowing down at intervals to greet passing staff and patients. Rajkumar awkwardly matched his pace, a bit disoriented at not being the person doing just that. It would take some time to get used to. Eight years was no joke.

He only stopped when Dr. Yuvraj did right in front of a door numbered 125. The other man took a deep look at him and adjusted his glasses before getting straight to the point.

"Your wife, Anisha has liver cancer. It is stage one but the tumors are spreading so fast that it looks like stage three and so..."

"...she needs neoadjuvant radiation? She's getting surgery?"

Rajkumar subconsciously finished his sentence, surprising the doctor who nodded after taking a few seconds to get his grip.

"Yeah. We can't only use drugs anymore."

"I see."

What else could he say? Here he was with divorce papers while she was going through all that in there. Was this really okay? 

The hand holding the folder gripped harder.

"Dr. Reddy."

"Uh yes, Dr. Yuvraj?" He met the man's serious eyes and listened to his words.

"She needs you."

"I see...but you see, I brought divorce papers along. There is someone else and she's pregnant..."

Rajkumar couldn't even finish without feeling like a walking pile of shit. In the first place, he hadn't even needed to say all that to a total stranger but he felt compelled to as if it would ease the sordid feeling in his gut and give him the validation that he craved.

Unfortunately, Dr. Yuvraj gave none of that. He only spat one word.

"Okay." and then, "You can go in and visit her whenever you are ready...go easy. I have other patients to attend to. If you would, please excuse me."

Rajkumar watched the confident white-draped back and wondered if his own back had always looked like that to others all these years. He wondered what it must look like now.

Was it bent, reflecting the weight of the dilemma that he found himself in - to be or not to be? If he turned away now, if he bid his time from afar and waited for fate to do its thing, wouldn't he get the peace and loving wife and child that he wanted - so close that he could taste it? 

Wouldn't he also get all of that money too?