𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕤𝕜𝕖𝕥

64

Clash
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Strictly no suniyams. Nandhri vanakam

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Neha gingerly turned the doorknob, expecting the warm glow of the hall light to welcome her. However, an unusual darkness enveloped the space. Intrigued and slightly uneasy, she flicked the switch, illuminating the room. There, on the couch, sat Siddharth, his eyes sealed shut, head nestled against the headrest. The top buttons of his shirt lay casually undone, and the fabric bore witness to the day's wear and tear. This version of Siddharth, a departure from the familiar, stirred a mix of fear and trepidation within Neha.

Siddharth?

Siddharth's eyes, typically warm and reassuring, now held a mysterious depth as he gracefully rose from the couch. Neha, sensing an unusual tension in the air, hesitated but stood her ground. Her fingers played nervously with the edges of her shawl. As Siddharth approached, he moved with deliberate intent, closing the space between them. Lowering himself to her eye level, his gaze, though softened, carried an enigmatic intensity as he cupped her cheek. In a gentle yet probing tone, he posed a question that hung in the air, 

Idhunaala dhan ivlo naal oru madhiri irundhiya?

Neha was grateful for the calmness, she shook her head and she answered,

Nee vara konjam neram munnadhi dhan enake theriyum

Siddharth appeared lost in thought, his expressions veiled and inscrutable. Neha, attempting to decipher his emotions, found herself at a loss. An unsettling fear crept in as the usual openness between them seemed to dissipate because suddenly she couldn't read what he was thinking, she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Everything was blank. Clinging to his hands, she whispered, her voice a delicate plea,

I didn't know

Siddharth closed his eyes briefly, exhaling a determined breath. Collecting his thoughts, he spoke,

Now you know, then stop it

What?

Neha mumbled in response, struggling to comprehend Siddharth's words. He gazed at her with a mix of plea and determination, articulating,

Adhan ippo avan yaar'nu therinjiruchulae, then don't treat him

Neha's hold on Siddharth's hand slackened, her brows furrowing as she responded,

No

Siddharth frowned,

I can't 

Neha shook her head, 

He has a very complicated case, adhunala dhan avara enaku assign pannanga. Innum one week la avaruku surgery. I can't just change it, that's not how I work.

That's not the way Neha functions; it's not as simple as just passing on a case. The weight of guilt that would linger, disrupting her peace, is something Siddharth couldn't fully comprehend. The profound sense of responsibility she feels towards her patients runs deep, intertwining with her very essence, making it impossible for her to easily turn away no matter the reason.

Neha, that man turned your husband's life into hell 

Avaru enake apdhi pannirundhalum, en patient'ah na avara treat dhan pannirupen. Adhu en vela

Siddharth withdrew his hands from her cheeks, confusion etched across his face. Neha's refusal, particularly to something as significant as his this request, left him at a loss fir words.