Elysium

Chapter 7

Once, during her psychology elective, Meerab had read that extreme independence was a trauma response. It could also be a cumulative result of insecurities, abandonment issues, low self-worth, trust issues, etc. Most times, their needs were not met as children, and they had grown to believe that they could only rely on themselves and often lived in survival mode. There were also occasions where people who had been in positions of power for too long struggled to accept help because they believed it was a display of weakness.

Meerab was an independent woman. Though she was often stubborn as a mule, Meerab liked to think that she was reasonable enough to seek help and accept assistance if she ever needed it, especially in the health care department. But there were certain others who were too obstinate and prideful to acknowledge a helping hand.

Meerab sat on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh as her eyes remained locked on a scowling Murtasim. Ever since the attending nurse had offered to send a male staff member to assist Murtasim in walking, the latter's face had soured. With a cold glare and sharp words, he had dismissed the nurse, refusing any external help.

She knew that he hated their stay at the hospital. She could not believe that a man as educated and resourceful as Murtasim would consider his hospital stay a weakness. But she had to begrudgingly accept that, from his point of view, it made sense. His extended hospital stay would only cement the fact that the head of the Khan clan was currently indisposed, which would in turn favor their business rivals, political opposition, and rival clans. She found solace in the fact that Malik Zubair was currently in police custody for shooting one of their men—one less headache.

Being a feudal lord was a full-time job, from which Murtasim seldom took leaves. With his concussion and broken arm, he would not be actively participating in his duties for a few more weeks, something that she was going to make sure of and something that she knew he wouldn't be pleased with. But if all went well, they would be heading back tomorrow, which would reduce public exposure and let him be at ease a bit more. But as she stared at Murtasim, who was perched at the edge of his bed, she realized that nothing was going well today.

"Murtasim, it's a standard procedure after surgery. You need to walk. Otherwise, they are not going to discharge you tomorrow."

Murtasim leveled her with a cold glare. "I can walk."

"Yes, you can, but not at the moment. Let me just call that male nurse. He is not going to carry you or anything. He is just for assistance, for support, to-"

"I don't need anyone's help to walk."

"-drag your ass up if you were to fall." Meerab firmly stated as her gaze zeroed in on the squashed oranges and broken glass that poked out of the dustbin. Murtasim followed her gaze and sheepishly averted his eyes once they fell on the trophies of his failed waddling from the bed to the washroom. Thankfully, Meerab had taken hold of the situation before the mighty Khan crashed down. She had scoffed when, instead of saying thanks, Murtasim had worriedly shouted at her to stay away and not hurt herself. And yet he was adamant about the fact that he did not need assistance in walking.

"It was one time." He mumbled.

"Yes, it was one time, but it could have ended with you back on the bed with another injury. Thank God you didn't hit anything."

He remained silent, and Meerab tried again.

"Just once, let's call the nurse once. You can walk on your own. But let's just have the guy standing there as a precaution."

He looked around, mostly trying to locate all the sturdy objects that he could latch onto if he were to lose his footing; the plain walls seemed to not provide enough friction as handholds.