Two faced

Chp 11

***
It was one early morning around six am, early enough that none of the major hospital staff, just the clerical and administrations plus the OPD from the night shift were present. He, Dr Afzaal had arrived around an hour before his duty time.

Since he arrived he was mysteriously walking outside the record department, dressed in Ash grey pair of pants coupled with a striped white and black shirt and ofcourse a spotless white overall over his attire, waiting impatiently for the officials authorized to arrive.

After the span of thirty minutes a uniformed personnel reported to the department and the doors to the record office were finally unlocked, reliefing his anxiety for some time.
Afzaal immediately rushed into the record room. It was a narrow room with grayish white walls, a small window covered in plain office curtains and black tiled floor.

It consisted of three computers lined up on a precise conference table two cupboards placed at the right corner. He walked to the table and pulled out a chair to the nearby computer.

With his back inclined uncomfortably with the back of the chair, which was already holding on his overall, he moved ahead towards the computer, red eyes positioned at the screen, hands tightly gripping the mouse and his notepad in an open position.

He clicked, surfed, noted then clicked, surfed and again noted for about a thirty minutes until he produced a list of ten names, each of them with  details comprising of two to three lines.

***
Afzaal pov 
"Dr, is everything alright?" The same personnel, who had been observing me from a long time asked me curiously.
"Yeah," I answered and pushed my chair apart while stretching my arms above my head.

"Just wanted to keep a check on my previous patients if they are fine or not for follow up protocol." I clarified, not revealing the real cause. "Hmm I hope it turns out fine." He wished me while working up the files placed next to him.
"Thanks." I replied as I switched off the computer, swinging my chair and filling up my notebook.

I gestured him good bye and calmly left the record room, putting on my coat and stethoscope around my neck while observing the time on my wrist watch.

***
It was now late in the night, the clock had already struck eleven and everything was enveloped in deep stillness. 
Darkness danced smoothly on the tunes of devil, masking the truth perfectly under the veil of enigma, all over the place except a small red sickle shaped lampshade, shoning brightly on him while he was seated on leather sofa quietly holding onto his same notebook he held in the morning. 

Afzaal's body rested on the sofa tiringly, his head tilted towards the notes, his one hand holding onto his signature pen while the other one lied on his left leg, his both legs were crossed and positioned loosely on an empty tinted glass table.

He was engrossed into the essence of words engraved on the pages of his notebook until his phone lying beside him, on the sofa starting ringing.
He shivered and started to hunt for his phone lost deep into the pile of cushions. Finally he found it and reading the caller id, a fresh smile appeared on his face completing concealing the tiring wrinkles.

"H...ello." he answered the call while crossing his legs on the sofa in an attempt to relax. 
"Hey, how are you?" A known voice echoed softly into his ears, much like music to his ears.
"Better that you called now Sana." He replied poetically, closing his notebook.

"Oh thanks. I wonder you must be working on your current case, am I right?" She asked him, varying her tone playfully.
"Yes with no doubt." He replied still smiling as if she were in front of him and as always he were staring at her.
"So what did you find out?" She asked him.

"A few things," he answered and started to refer to his notebook, swiping the pages one by one.
"I went after all of them. Zubair, he is doing fine, working in a bank. He seemed to be cured." He paused to get his breath.
"Hmmm and others?" She curiously asked.

"Rudab, his depression is well composed, he is still on routine medicines but he can't be the one to play a stunt like this. Saira, stress disorder patient of mine, she is good too. Her anxiety attacks are no more as well as the nightmares." He stopped as he was cut by Sana.

"She is the one who once tried to commit suicide?" She bluntly asked.
"Yes she is the one." He told her.
"And?" She asked for more.

"Mirha, an impulse disorder patient. She has moved to UK with her family last year so it can't be her..............." He finished.
"So then who it could be?" She asked again.
"It must be Ijaz or Rehan!" He said confidently while rolling his pen to and fro in between his fingers.
"How can you be so sure?" She replied curiously.
"Because these two are perfectly capable of doing such an act and I couldn't look up to them only." He explained as he spined the pen such that it finally slipped from his hands.
"Hmmm sounds logical." She said softly.
"I hope I get into this matter." He sighed.
"You will. I wish I could be by your side right now." She motivated him and he smiled proudly.
"You are already. I can go through any circumstances when you stay by my side." He recited completely ignoring his fallen pen.
"Ahan really!" She questioned.
"Yes with every heart beat, you stand near me even closer than my own self." He complimented her and she hummed.

"Yes indeed we are together always." She replied. Silence took over them.
"Video call?" she proposed and without wasting no more seconds he jumped over in excitement and turned on the video call.

She accepted the call request, and soon they were able see each other. Sana, with her oiled hair tied up in a low pony tail, her tired eyes, moistorized lips and black T shirt, looked cute while Afzaal looked nothing better than a druggie, who wore a grey shirt with it's most of the buttons already unbuttoned with a ruffled collar. He looked like a person who hasn't slept for decades.
Both of them remained silent on call for about more than thirty seconds, looking at each other.

A plain look came up on Afzaal's face as if he had lost his self into hers until she uttered few words.
"What?" she asked embarrassingly.
"You." Afzaal answered as he smiled at her.
"It's getting late Afzaal." She said and he gazed his wrist watch squinting his tired eyes.
"It is, one am already." He exclaimed.
"Better sleep now." She proposed.
"Yeah." He casually replied.

"I miss you Afzaal. You should have not forced me to leave or I should have not listened to you." She proclaimed.
"It's for your own good Sana. I can't let you stay here in case that person attacks again." He told her.
"But..." She tried to speak but he cut her in between.
"Please Sana, I love you. Atleast I deserve to take care of you." He said.
"Okay I get it. Take good care of you." She wished.
"I will. Good night." He wished her.

"Good night husband." She wished back and disconnected the call leaving him smiling admirably into the air, totally looking like roadside romeo.
He started to close his notebook and childishly threw it on the sofa.

'When you go in search of honey, you must expect to be stung my bees'

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Hey readers. Good day. I hope you are doing great for yourselves!
My apoloigies for extremely late update..... :)
Taura5 :P