Heal the Heart

32.

Time moved differently during the summer. The days merged together. Memories filled the empty spaces between unsaid words. A silent, warm aura surrounded the slightly quieter streets.

Summer, for me, meant discarding any semblance of routine and just locking myself up in my room for hours together, wallowing in the shallow pools of self-pity. This summer, however, did a complete one-eighty on me. My internship at the rehab centre required me to be on my feet for a full twelve hours. Sometimes more. Shadowing two doctors warranted that. And when one of the doctors was Nazmi, it was equivalent to walking right into a tornado.

I enjoyed it.

There was an underlying satisfaction that blossomed in my chest each time I saw a patient smile. Each time I see a group chatting, laughing, and sharing stories that brought them here, to this moment. These people had accidents that shattered their bones and dreams. It forced them to press pause on all the happenings in their lives. They faced battles that took them to the darkest corners of their souls. But they were fighting, and they were fighting to win.

This was their journey to overcome the pain. I watched as these warriors shed old layers to make space for newer, better, stronger armour.

I understood what Beck meant when he said he loved listening to people's stories. Our stories made our lives. It shaped us into the individuals we are today and the people we would become tomorrow. I etched the stories of these people into my heart. The teenager who fought through the tremors in her hand to create again. The middle-aged man who wanted to sweep his daughter in his arms again. Everyone had something worth fighting for, and they were ready to move heaven and hell to get there.

I found myself drawn to their conversations. To their laughter and jokes and ability to move past their trauma. I'd sit with them and share dreams, experiences and those distinct, mundane activities that made us human. Every smile I earned, every thank you I received, these were rewards no amount of money could ever buy.

The major I had chosen was the result of a last minute forced action in a bid to move forward. There was no second thought to it. No reason for me to actually go through with it other than escaping the home that didn't quite feel like home anymore. Now, my priorities were shifting. What had been a nonchalant choice turned out to be one of the best decisions I could've ever made.

By the time I reached Beck's place, my feet had begun to ache, and all I wanted to do was soak in a tub of hot hot water till I resembled a prune.

That took a backseat when I caught a whiff of the spicy aroma that blanketed the entire apartment.

I dropped my bag near the door, wiggled out of my sneakers, and went straight to the kitchen. Beck was busy undoing the knot on his apron... and failing miserably. I reached out to help him, kissing him on the cheek. "Hey you. What's cookin'?"

"Hey, good lookin'."

The moment I undid the knot, he turned around and captured my face, pulling me in for a slow, deep kiss.

He let go with a blissful sigh. "And voilà, I'm re-energised."

I shoved his shoulder playfully, unable to erase the smile from my face. "Cheesy bastard."

"How was your day?" He nudged me towards the counter.

I hopped on the stool and watched him as he brought two delicately decorated plates over. "Filled with epiphanies," I said and inhaled the rich flavour emanating from our dinner. The buttery notes of the salmon did wonders to my tastebuds, complimented with glazed carrots and brussel sprouts. "This is fucking delicious. Jesus, Beck, we need to monetize these skills and fast."