Crushed and Created- Tangled series (Overprotective famous brothers)

The new normal

ALISHA

Did I hate doctors? Yes. Did I hate meeting new people nowadays? Yes. And the person who was about to meet me was both.

“Thanks.” I smiled half heartedly at Malaika who applied some blue liner for me. I was in my short summer dress, with my hair in a pony. One thing I learned today, my hair went through some major damage too. I made Malaika make me look better today so she asked, no, ordered the maids at our house to bring some accessories. She practically changed the entire room into mine. I had my toys, clothes, towels, bags, shoes, glares, make up, CDs, laptop, books and even my curtains. Yeah, that bad.

“Welcome. Now, you know Arhaan really wants to see you now. He’s throwing tantrums I can’t handle now. And the nannies are about to quit.”

“I miss him too?” I asked, remembering the innocent little nephew of mine. He treated me more like an elder sister than aunt, and was fond of me. Arbaaz and Malaika decided not to tell him about what had happened, and he thought I was gone for some competition.

Malaika just nodded, and just then Dr, Anderson came in with some other male in a white coat. Malaika got the cue, and got out after kissing my forehead.

“Alisha, this is Dr. Murray. He is a specialist in child PF. And as he requested, I’m gonna leave now.” Dr. Anderson left, leaving me alone in the room with Dr. Murray. I looked away from him. He was just a reminder that I had this freaking disease I couldn’t control, and strangers as it is got to me these days. Ok, the latter I was getting better at, but still.

“Hello there.” He said in a terribly chipper voice. Was he kidding me? He reminded me of nothing but a disease that would kill me, and was so God damn happy.

“Hello.” I replied, a little too harsh.

“I get that a lot.” He chuckled and went through my case file and medicines prescribed.

“Ok, I know it’s a shock. And I also know under what circumstances this disease was detected. And I am truly sorry for your loss.” His voice was now a lot more sincere. I looked at him for the first time, and immediately processed the details. Within his early thirties, he was tall and fit. He was wearing casuals underneath the white coat, and had orange rimmed specs that separated him from the rest.

“Thank you.” I honestly didn’t know how to reply when someone said sorry. Thank you was just a way to get over with it, because the last thing I wanted was to discuss that day. And he seemed to get it, unlike others who pressed for details.

“Ok, so I need to ask some questions. Let’s start with…your favorite song?”

“You don’t want to ask that. I have gazillions of them.” I pointed at my itunes playlist which contained thousands of songs, and no it isn’t exaggeration.

“Ok. So, favorite sport?”

“Gymnastics.” I didn’t even need to think over it.

“I heard you are pretty good.”

“I’m an elite.” It ticked me off. I mean, most of them didn’t even get the levels and stages of gymnastics, and then said, ‘Can you do a flip?’ It was annoying at the very least.

“So, it’s the uppermost level?” he asked, dragging the chair next to my bed.

“Yeah, the Olympic level.” He raised a brow at me and smirked,

“Guess I shouldn’t mess with you.”

“How does it matter? It’s all over now. Nothing of it can ever come back.” I looked away. My passion was now something I could never get my hands on. The Olympic gold was something I could never claim now.