You're My Home | Complete ✔

Chapter 12

"It wasn't as simple as we thought at first. Things turned.....complicated." She took a deep breath as she tried to explain the situation to the family. Her patient wasn't going to recover anytime soon, and it definitely wasn't going to go well with the family.

"So he might not come out of this alive?" Samara slowly nodded as the devastated wife broke down in front of her. She tried her best to console her but to no avail. The whole family was grieving. These were the times when she really wished things would turn out differently. Being the person to deliver the bad news was never easy. It never will be.

She paced into the on call room, unable to hold back her emotions. Michael place a hand on her shoulder.

"It was supposed to be a simple tumor resection Mike."

"Yeah but we didn't know the degree of damage it had already done. It spread out into places we could never reach. You know we couldn't have done anything even if we wanted to Sam. Don't break down like this. There are other patients who need you."

Samara sniffed as she nodded her head. She plopped down into the sofa and rested her head on the back. The past week had been very turbulent for her. Armaan and her fallout hit her hard. They hadn't talked to each other after that night. She had tried to call him twice, but it would go straight to voicemail. She wanted to talk to him but dreaded it at the same time. She couldn't fight with him again. It hurt her. It hurt him. Things weren't going smooth at work either. The stress wasn't making things any easier. For the first time in years, Samara felt like her life was falling apart.

*******

The sky was looking quite gloomy. Usually at this time of the year it didn't rain as much, but this year was an exception. His office looked out on the streets of the Upper East Side and central park. Normally he would stand by the window and sip some coffee, but today neither the view nor the coffee interested him. He was lost in his world of thoughts when there was a knock at the door.

"Sir? Here are the copies of your old recordings you asked for."

"Thank you. Just keep them on the table."

Armaan walked up to his desk and picked up one of the CDs. It was one of his very first compositions. A proud moment. His first achievement. A picture of his music company flashed in his mind. Armaan Yasir Recordings. He wanted to give the world a taste of classical Pakistani music, with a unique western touch. The kind of music no one has heard before. It was his dream. Something he wanted to do ever since he graduated from college. How could he just throw it away?

He picked up his phone and hovered his thumb over her name, wondering whether he should go ahead and make the call. He couldn't do it before as he broke his phone the night of their fight, but now that he got a new one, he really wanted to talk to her. But somewhere inside, an pang of pain and anger stopped him.

Before he could make a decision, his phone rang all of a sudden. It was a call Armaan dreaded all week long. Zeba khaala.

*******

Silence prevailed in the locker room at the hospital. It was late in the night and most doctors had either gone home or were busy in their night shifts. Samara was working way past her shift for the last few days. Her work provided some distraction from the storm going on within her. She tried to drown herself in as much as work possible, but still at the end of the day, when she finished, all the emotions came rushing back. It was a terrible mix of frustration, guilt and disappointment. She couldn't shut away the feelings even at her best attempts. The hurtful words exchanged between them would find its way and creep in into her mind.

Samara tried to push away her thoughts and was about to walk out, but she stopped short when she saw him standing at the door.

"Could I talk to you for a minute?" She nodded her head. She didn't have the energy to fight anymore, nor did she wish to. A little bit of satisfaction began to make place in her heart in hopes that they would resolve their differences. Little did she know that the damage was already done.

Armaan took a few steps ahead and closed the door behind him. He looked at Samara; it didn't take him time to realize how hurt she was. It could be clearly seen on her face. She seemed exhausted, emotionally fatigued. Seeing her like this hurt him even more.

"How did you hurt yourself?" He was surprised by her question, but then realized she was talking about his hand that had gauge wrapped around it.

"Broken glass. It's nothing, just a minor cut." He wondered whether she could tell that he hurt himself in anger, when he gripped the glass too tight causing it to break in his hands.

"I just wanted to ask if you're planning to come Boston with me. Khaala called me a few days ago. I wasn't sure what to tell her-"

"Armaan, whatever happened between us doesn't change my equation with khaala. I promised her I'll be there at her wedding. And I will. I have an important surgery next week that I can't postpone, so I won't be able to go with you this weekend. But I'll reach before the wedding. You don't need to wait for me, you should go early to help her out."

He knew surgery wasn't the only reason stopping her from going with him.

"Okay then. I'm leaving tomorrow morning. Let me know if you need anything, and please get some sleep. You look like you could collapse any moment."

Samara managed to give him a weak smile before he left. She really hoped he would stay and sort things out. She wished she could just talk and hug it out. But if only it was that simple.