Echoes Of Forever

5

I just want to get out of here.

Dr. Sharma handed me a prescription and a reassuring smile. "Take care of that ankle, and don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything."

I acknowledged his words with a nod, then slowly stood, my weight shifting onto the swollen ankle with a wincing hesitation.

Dr. Sharma glanced at Ahaan, who was observing our exchange with an uninterested expression.

"Ahaan, would you mind giving her a ride home?" Dr. Sharma asked, putting my medical papers aside.

Ahaan snorted, his face devoid of any emotions. "No, thanks. I have better things to do."

"Oh, no worries. I can manage on my own. I've been doing it for years." I said, my tone detached and nonchalant, conveying a deliberate indifference.

Ahaan uttered those words with a polished, but patently fake, smile. "I'm sure you have. You seem like the type who can handle everything... except not tripping over your own feet."

Engaging in a heated debate with him was the last thing I wanted, especially at this very moment but I wouldn't let him win, of course. "Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. I'll make sure to put it on my trophy shelf."

Dr. Sharma intervened, his tone firm. "Ahaan, it's not too much to ask."

Ahaan shrugged, unmoved and unaffected by the surrounding. "Can't help, Karan. Maybe she can call a cab... or crawl home."

My eyes narrowed. "I think I'll survive without your charity."

A slap would have been the perfect antidote to his patronizing tone.

With a mocking smile, Ahaan turned and walked away.

Dr. Sharma apologized, "I'm sorry about that. Some people—"

I waved it off, as if him saying those words mattered anyway. "Don't worry, Doctor. I've dealt with worse." He was infinitely worse though.

With crutches firmly in my hands, I made my way out of the clinic, each deliberate click a testament to my determination to prove Ahaan wrong.

My obsession with appearing sick led me to persuade Dr. Sharma to provide crutches, despite his initial reluctance.

As I scanned the street for an auto rickshaw, my gaze inadvertently drifted to the parking lot, where Ahaan stood, observing me with an air of superiority, his smug expression unchanged.

I flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Thanks for nothing."

I watched as Ahaan's smirk flickered, its confidence wavering for an instant, before he deliberately turned away, dismissing me from his attention, and strode toward his car.

I shook off the drama and jumped into the auto rickshaw that pulled up, tossing my crutches aside. I was done with Ahaan's condescending attitude and the clinic's sterile atmosphere. A warm shower, comfy PJs, and a Netflix binge were calling my name.
Time to ditch the stress and head home.

I arrived home just in time, crutches firmly in hand, I hesitated at the doorstep, uncertain whether to ring the bell. The thought of facing my mother's gaze and inevitable questions filled me with anxiety.

Just as my finger hovered over the doorbell, the door swung open, and my mother stood before me, her eyes widening in shock. Her expression swiftly shifted to irritation, and she launched into a barrage of questions, her voice laced with pent-up concern.

"Where have you been?" Her eyes roamed around my hand, where my crutches were. "And what's with the crutches?"

My mother was definitely angry.

"Pair ke saath saath kaan bhi kharab ho gaye hai?" [ Have your ears also stopped working along with your ankle? ]

My mother's eyes narrowed, her irritation simmering beneath the surface, as I remained mute.

"Mummy, tumhari kasam, bohot dard kar rahe the." [ Mummy, I swear on you, my ankle was aching ike hell. ]

"Haan, maar dalo mujhe iss jawani me!" A stunned silence enveloped me, my head shaking slowly, as I struggled to process my mother's revelation. [ Yes, kill me when I'm still young. ]

"Ab chalo bhi andar." She said, helping me with the crutches, making my way towards the house. [ Now come inside. ]

I dragged myself to my room, totally beat. Mom forced me to drink some soup, even though I wasn't hungry. Soon enough, she dropped the bomb: Dad's coming home this week. I freaked out and kept begging her not to tell him about my ankle. She agreed, but I'm still worried he'll find out.

I mean, dad can be a total worrier, and I don't need that right now. I just want to chill, rest my ankle, and get better. But no, dad will probably show up with a million questions and try to fix everything. I do love him, but ugh!

Mom promised to keep my secret, but I know she's gonna slip up eventually. She can't keep a secret to save her life. I'll just have to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

As I settled into bed, anticipating a restful night's sleep, my phone on the bedside table buzzed to life, signaling an incoming message that shattered the silence.

"Naina, I recommend a follow-up appointment at the hospital in a few days. I'll share the address with you. Take care and rest well."

It was Dr. Sharma. He had asked me to save his number for any medical emergencies that might arise.

I hastily replied to Dr. Sharma and was just about to switch my phone off when a sudden thought came to my mind.

Dance studio.

Mihika would kill me if she knew I'd not be coming to the dance studio.

As I deliberated on whether to reach out, my fingers finally surrendered to the urge, and I sent Mihika a text, revealing the unwelcome news about my ankle. Predictably, her initial response was tinged with irritation, but soon, concern seeped into her words. Her anger melted away, replaced by a promising statement that she would manage.

Switching the phone off, I kept it on the table beside my bed as I didn't want anyone to disturb me while I was sleeping peacefully.

Wrapping the duvet around me like a burrito, I whispered a good night to myself.

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Ik Ahaan's an asshole but bear w him guys, he'll get better!