19

Chapter 14: The Surgery Day

For the last two days, my life had become a straight line between two points—Black Crown Industries and home.

9 am in the office, 11 pm or sometimes even midnight back home.

Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat.

Except... the "sleep" part was usually just two or three hours.

Tomorrow is Angad's surgery. Just the thought made my stomach twist.

I woke up to the dim light creeping through the curtains, forcing myself out of bed even though every muscle in my body screamed to rest. A quick, warm shower helped me feel human again. I slipped into my lilac-colored suit, clipped on my lemon-stone earrings, and fastened my anklets—the soft chime they made with every step felt like a tiny piece of home I carried with me. The bangles around my wrist chimed in response, like they were having their own conversation.

In the kitchen, I made myself a simple sandwich. I didn't have the appetite for anything else, but I knew skipping breakfast would only make me weaker. I can't afford to be weak-not when Angad needs me to be strong. Once done, I picked up my bag and headed out.

------------------------------------------------

The office was exactly as I had left it—files stacked like miniature skyscrapers on my desk, each one silently mocking me. The task today? Rearrange the last five years' worth of data. Five years. I didn't even have time to drink water.

I started typing, my fingers moving faster and faster across the keyboard until suddenly—my right hand began to tremble.

Not a little twitch. A proper, uncontrolled shake.

"No..." I whispered under my breath, panic crawling up my spine. "Not again. Not now."

I grabbed my wrist with my left hand, pressing hard as if I could somehow command the trembling to stop. My voice was low and desperate.

"Please... be normal."

After a few minutes, I rested my hand against the desk, hoping it would pass. I knew exactly why this was happening. And I also knew there was nothing I could do about it right now.

I closed my eyes. That terrible incident. That attack. The incident which gave me such pain. It started coming before my eyes.

But before I got completely lost in the memories of that incident, a voice brought me out of that memory.

"Madam, aapke liye chai..." Ramu Chacha said. 

(Madam, tea for you...)

"But Uncle I did not order tea..." I asked, my brows furrowed in confusion. "Eshank Babu... has instructed... to serve you tea..." Raamu chacha explained. 

"Thank you... Chacha." I took the cup from him, but still I am not able to understand. Why would Rai Singhania send tea for me?

Raamu chacha left, placing the tea on my table. 

In the middle of this chaos, when my hand shaking like hell. My mind pushing me towards those painful memories, tea appeared on my table. Just like that. What are you doing, Mr. Rai Singhania?

I lifted the cup with my steady hand, and took a sip. It's not just tea—my tea. Extra sugar, exactly the way I liked it. 

At lunch, it happened again. A plate of food was sent to my cabin without me asking for it.

I frowned. Since when did Black Crown Industries start offering "special treatment" to overworked PAs? And why... me?

Before I could overthink it, the intercom on my desk rang.

Eshank. Of course, yeh intercom unhi ke toh office se juda hai. Ek toh itna kaam de diya, upper se intercom prr call prr call karke disturb kar rahe.

(This intercom is connected to his office. Firstly, he has given me so much work and on top of that, he is disturbing me by making calls on the intercom.)

I mimicked his tone and said playfully, "This is not perfect, the size of this file...shouldn't exceed more than 68 MB"

I picked up the call, before the devil himself  appears in front of me and scold me for being late in answering his call. 

As usual, before I could even say a word, he spoke. 

"In my cabin. Now." His voice deep and cold, Like a 'ROBOT' and hung up the call.

I grabbed my notepad and walked into his cabin, holding the papers out for him. I made sure to keep my right hand hidden behind my dupatta.

I knocked on the door thrice and heard, "come in" 

I walked inside his cabin and-

"Status?" His deep voice had that crisp, no-nonsense tone. "Hotel cost updates. How much reduction so far?" 

Yeh insaan mujhe saans bhi nhi lene deta... Abhi toh aaayi hoon... Bata dungi naa sab, degungi information, prr nahi, iss insaan ko sab kuch ek hi second mein jaan na hota hai.

(This person doesn't even let me breathe... I have just come... I will tell him everything, I will give him the information, but no, this person wants to know everything in a single second.)

"Sir, the reduction is close to 18% now. Vendors agreed to adjust once we capped the creative liberties."

He glanced at me... then at the way I was standing. "Why are you hiding your hand, Miss Avleen?"

My heart skipped. "Nothing, sir." 

Kyun puchna hai inko yehi sawal... uggghh... this man is going to be the death of me... Mera bas calta, iske nakhre aur bardasht nahi karti. Jo information de rahi hoon, voh nahi sunni... inko mere hath mein zyada interest hai.

(Why does he want to ask me this question... uggghh... this man is going to be the death of me... If it would have been in my hands, then I would not have tolerated his tantrums. The information I am giving him, he is not listening to it... he is more interested in my hand.)

His brows lifted slightly, amusement playing in his eyes. "You're lying."

"I'm not—"

"Miss Avleen," his tone dropped lower, almost playful but edged with authority, "don't force me to make you show it."

I shifted uncomfortably. "It's nothing serious, sir."

Instead of pushing, he leaned back in his chair and gave me that infuriating smirk. "Hmm... so, what is serious? The fact that you're short enough to be mistaken for a school intern, or the fact that you think you can hide things from me?"

I blinked at him. "Excuse me? I'm not that short."

He chuckled. "From this angle, I can barely see you over the desk."

"Sir—"

"And here I thought your height might be why you're so fast at work—less distance to cover between the desk and the floor."

I gave him a flat look. "Kya kaha aapne... main short hoon... Nahi, aap lambe hain."

(What did you say... I am short.... No, you are tall.)

"I am proud of being tall, Miss Avleen. Kam se kam... tumhari tarah... dusro ko proof nahi dene padte ki main kitne saal ka hoon. Prr aapko toh bina valid documents ke koi 18+ bhi nahi samjhega."

(At least... unlike you... I don't have to give proof to others about my age. But, without valid documents, no one will consider you 18+)

My nostrils flared in anger, he is making fun of my shoort height and baby face.

"Aapka kya matlab hai main bachi hoon..." I said, pointing my finger at myself.

(What do you mean, I am a child...)

"Haan... ismein koi shaq nahi hai. Maine tumhe hi BACCHI kaha hai." He said, nodding seriously, and quoted the word "bacchi" with his fingers.

(Yes... there is no doubt about it. I called you 'baby'.)

Inko sabak sikhana padega... aise kaise meri acchi bhali height ka mazak uda sakte hain yeh... Aapka toh game bajana padega. Mr. rai Singhania, Soti huyi sherni ko jaga ke acha nahi kiya... Never underestimate me because of my short.... nahi... cute... haan... cute height.

(I will have to teach him a good lesson... how can he make fun of my good height like this... I will have to shut him up. Mr. Rai Singhania, it was not right to wake up the sleeping lioness... Never underestimate me because of my short... no... cute... yes... cute height.)

"Main short nahi hoon... Aap overly tall hai."

(I'm not short... you're a tall guy.)

"Main overly tall kaise?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. 

(How am I overly tall?)

"India mein ladko ki average height pata bhi hai aapko... 5'5" hai... Aur aap 6'4" ke lambse khambe hain... Khud average se zyada height leke ghum rahe aur mujhe... short bol rahe... Khud ko dekha hai... aapko toh vahan se niche dekhte huye... terrace se niche dekhne wali feeling aati hogi naa. Kabhi socha hai... aapse nazrein milane mein...meri gardan akad jaati hai... meri gardan ka dard hain aap." I said, my voice shaking with playful anger.

(Do you even know the average height of boys in India... it is 5'5"... and you are a tall 6'4"... you yourself are roaming around with a height above the average and calling me... short... I have seen myself... while looking at you. From there... you must get the feeling of looking down from the terrace. Have you ever thought... when I make eye contact with you... my neck gets stiff... you are the pain in my neck.)

"Tumhari gardan ka dard... main hoon...?" He said, his playfull expression turned serious suddenly.

(The pain in your neck...is me...?)

Abb yeh kya kiya maine... short height meri kamzori hai aur yeh... meri dukhti rug prr pair rakh gaye aur abb jazbaaton mein overflow hoke...kya kya nahi bol diya maine... ab pata nahi yeh kya karenge mere saath. Bas Angad ki surgery tak mujhe zinda chhod dena... uske baad maar dena bhale hi.

(Now what did I do... short height is my weakness and this... he pressed my wrong nerves and now in overflow of emotions... what all did I say ... now I don't know what will he do to me. Just leave me alive till the Angad's surgery... after that kill me.)

But before I could say anything in my defence or pretend like I never said this all. Sudden Short term memory...hehe. 

He leaned forward suddenly, closing the space between us before I could move away. "Distraction works wonders, doesn't it?"

I blinked, confused. "What distraction—"

And that's when I realized—my right hand was now resting on his desk.

He caught it instantly. "Why is your hand trembling?" His voice wasn't mocking anymore.

I pulled it back quickly. "It's fine, sir."

"If it's fine then why is it trembing? Moreover you hid it in you dupatta. why?"

"Umm... sir. It's.. because... may be I overused my hand... that's why." I tried giving him a believable explaination but clearly he didn't buy it. 

But he didn't push further as well... just looked at me for a long moment, as if filing this away in some mental folder of his.

By the time I left his cabin, it was already past 10.

-----------------------------------

The clock had just struck midnight when I finally put my pen down. My eyes were heavy, my body was drained, but my heart carried only one thought—Angad. Tomorrow is his surgery. My puttar. My lifeline. No matter how late it was, I needed to see him.

I grabbed my bag and stepped out of Black Crown. The night air was thick and unusually quiet. A strange shiver ran down my spine, as if eyes were on me, but when I glanced around, the streets were empty. Paranoia, Avleen. You're just tired, I told myself and kept walking quickly, catching a cab.

When I reached the hospital, it was already past visiting hours, but the nurse at the desk, familiar with my face, let me slip inside. I pushed the ward door open slowly, careful not to wake him.

There he was. My little Angad. Curled up under the blanket, breathing softly. My chest ached with guilt.

"I'm sorry, puttar..." My voice cracked as I whispered, sitting beside him, "I always come late, naa?"

As if my words pulled him from sleep, he stirred, his lashes fluttering before his hazel eyes met mine. His small, tired smile was enough to undo me. "Di... you came."

I stroked his hair gently, my fingers threading through the softness that reminded me of Mumma's touch. "I came late," I admitted, my voice breaking. "Sorry."

But Angad shook his head, his smile widening just a little. "You came... that's enough for me."

My throat tightened. His innocence. His heart was so pure. I hummed softly, almost instinctively. The lullaby. Mumma's lori. The same one she used to sing when we were kids. My lips moved without thinking, and my voice filled the room in a low hum.

And then—like always—the past crashed over me. Suddenly, I wasn't in the hospital anymore.

------------------------------------------------

Flashback

"Avleen, Angad... putt bas vi karo hun!" Mumma's voice filled our old home. "Aa ke so jao. Kal nu school v taan jaana ae! Nahi taan har roz tuhada... 5 minutes more, Mumma... two minutes more... bas thodi derr hor son do, Mumma... ehi karde rahonge"

(Avleen, Angad... dear, just stop it now! Mumma's voice filled our old home. "Come and sleep! You have to go to school tomorrow too... Otherwise, like every day you will say .... 5 minutes more, Mumma... two minutes more... Let us sleep a little more, Mumma... You will keep doing this.)

I laughed, running after Angad, refusing to listen. "Mumma, five more minutes!"

Papa's voice boomed as he walked in, still in his work clothes. "Ohh, mere sher bagge... aaj meri sherni nu bohot tang kar rahe ne, haan?"

(Ohh my cubs... You are troubling my lioness a lot today, huh?)

Mumma folded her arms. "Haan ji, tuhade sher bagge apni mumma di ek v gal nahi sunde!"

(Yes, your cubs don't listen to a single word their mother says.)

Angad and I looked at each other mischievously. "Papa we didn't troble, mumma. We were just playing."

Papa bent and picked both of us up, making us squeal. "Tusi hun meri jind jaan nu tang na karo, dono jaane!"

(Don't bother my life line now, you both!)

Papa put us down and went towards mumma.

Mumma turned red as Papa pulled her close. "Avtar ji! Bacche ae yithe... te thonu flirt sujh reha ae?"

(Avtar ji! kids are here... and you are flirting?)

Papa smirked, eyes glinting. "Oh main taan bas apni sherni naal hi flirt karda... hor kise..."

(Ohh I only flirt with my lioness... not with any...)

Mumma glared at him, quirking one brow at Papa, as if daring him to complete that sentence.

Mumma was still glaring, but I could see the smirk tugging her lips. "Main keh rahi haan... Kise hor naal flirt taan ki akh chak ke taan vekho... Jaan kad dun tuhadi main."

(I am saying... Flirting?... Try took at someone else... I will kill you)

Papa raised a brow. "Meri mithiye, tuhade bina main kade akh utha ke kise wal ni vekhya. Ta fir kyon gussa kar rahe ho?"

(My sweetie, I have never looked at anyone else except you. So why are you angry?)

Mumma smirked, brushing her dupatta over her shoulder. "Because I enjoy it. Is puri state de andar, sirf main haan jo Sardar Avtar Singh Grewal nu dara sakdi haan." 

(In this whole state, it's just me who can scare Sardar Avtar Singh Grewal)

"Acha ji... Te rahi gal meri jaan len di... oh main tuhanu len ni dinda..." Papa said smirking, as if he wanted mumma to ask the reason behind it. 

(Okay... you're talking about taking my life... oh, I won't let you take it...)

"Kyun..?" Mumma asked, curiously. As expected.

(Why)

"Jaan taan meri tuhade ch ae... te tuhanu main apne toh door ni hon dinda." Papa whispered, his voice full of love, and carried a silent promise of protection.

(My life is in you... and I will not let you be far from me.)

"Avtar ji... tusi v naa..." Mumma said, a shy smile tugging at her lips. But then she smirked, " Prr jo v ae tusi mande ho ki tusi mere toh darde ho." Mumma said, her eyes carried a mischievous glint.

(Avtar ji...you will never change...)

(But whatever it is, you agree that you are afraid of me)

I giggled. "True, Papa! Only Mumma can scare you!"

Papa gasped dramatically. "Scare ke bache... ruk jao dono!" He chased us until we squealed with laughter, finally catching us and swinging us high in the air.

(Sacre huh... stop both of you!)

Mumma shook her head, but there was love in her eyes. "Bas, bas... hun dono so jao."

(Enough, enough... Both of you sleep now)

Angad and I whined together. "Mumma... Lori... please!"

(Mumma, lullaby... please)

She smiled, her hands pulling us close, settling our heads in her lap. Her soft voice filled the room as she sang, her fingers threading through our hair. My eyes closed to the safety of her warmth, her love.

--------------------------------------------

I blinked back into the hospital room, tears burning my eyes as Angad stirred again. His lips moved in his sleep.

"Mumma..."

My heart clenched so painfully I could barely breathe. My hand trembled as I cupped his cheek. 

I'm all you have now, puttar. Just me. And I will not let you feel alone.

I bent closer, whispering, "Shh... Di's here. And I'll never leave you."

Tomorrow is his surgery. I knew he was scared, even if he didn't say it. But tonight, I wanted him to feel only love, only comfort.

I kissed his forehead, whispering softly, teasing lightly so his heart stayed light, "Bas yaad rakh... After your surgery, you owe me ice cream. Aur meri favourite wali."

(Just remember... After your surgery, you owe me ice cream. my favourite one.)

His lips curled into a sleepy smile. "Deal, Di."

I stayed by his side until dawn, watching over him like Mumma once did for us.

-----------------------------

The morning sun spilled across my face, pulling me back from the uneasy sleep I had stolen in the stiff hospital chair. My neck ached as I stretched, wincing. The beeping machines hummed softly, steady and alive—the only sound that comforted me.

I blinked my eyes open, and the first thing I saw was him—my Angad. His lashes fluttered, his lips curving into the faintest smile as he noticed me awake. For a moment, I just sat there, drinking in the sight of him. My little brother, so fragile yet so strong, lying on that hospital bed when it should've been me instead.

"How are you feeling, putt?" I whispered, my voice rough from sleep, my hand already reaching to brush the hair from his forehead.

(Dear)

"I'm good, Di," he said softly, his voice carrying more strength than his body did. "Don't worry too much. i am strong and I am not a little kid anymore."

A watery laugh escaped me. "That's my right, Angad. To worry about you. Who else will if not me? No matter, how old you get... you will always be my little brother. Even when you turn 65, i will still call you putt."

He looked at me with those eyes—our mother's eyes—filled with patience, with love, and with a quiet wisdom that broke me. "I know, Di... You will always be my Di...My second mother...My world but Don't do this with yourself. You'll fall sick if you keep pushing yourself like this."

I tilted my head, trying to hide the tightness in my chest with a smile. "I'm taking care of myself, putt. Don't you see? Your Di is running around fine. What makes you think I'm falling apart?"

(Dear) (Sister)

He gave me a faint chuckle. "Because I know you. You act strong, Di, but you're tired... I can see it." His small hand shifted weakly, reaching for mine. "Bas... I'm grown up now. It's my turn to take care of you."

(Sister)(Just)

That one line shattered me. My Angad... still so young, yet speaking like the man he never got the chance to be. My throat burned as I leaned closer and squeezed his hand tight, trying to pass every ounce of my strength into him.

"Don't talk like that," I said, my voice trembling though I tried to make it playful. "You're not here to take care of me. You're here to get better so I can spoil you with chocolates and scold you for not finishing your medicines. That's your only job."

He smiled, a soft, innocent smile that reminded me of when we were kids. "Fine... but promise me one thing, Di."

"What?" My heart pounded as I looked at him.

"Today... after the surgery... when I wake up..." He swallowed, his voice breaking a little. "The first face I want to see is yours. Promise me you'll be there."

Tears stung my eyes instantly. I forced myself to smile, even as fear clutched my chest like a vice. I kissed the back of his hand and whispered, "Pakki gall, Angad. I'll be right here. The moment you open your eyes, I'll be sitting beside you... with your favorite chocolate and book in my hand."

(Promise)

His eyes lit up, the little boy in him surfacing for just a second. "Deal!"

I laughed softly, even as tears rolled silently down my cheeks. Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to his forehead, breathing in the warmth of him, memorizing it. For that moment, nothing else existed. Not my exhaustion, not my fear, not the darkness waiting outside these walls.

It was just me and him. His Di and her putt.

(Sister)(Dear)

And I would burn the world down before I let anything take him from me.

We were just talking when the door opened and Dr. Kabir walked in, his professional calmness filling the room.

"Good morning," he said warmly, then turned to Angad. "Are you ready for surgery?"

Angad nodded, "I am ready, Doctor. But I think Di is more scared than me." He said chuckling, trying to lighten my mood.

"I am not scared... just worried. There's a difference between in being scared and worried." I said, trying to indulge in the moment.

"I can see it on your face, Di." he said, as if stating a matter of fact.

Dr. Kabir chuckled at our banter, then cleared his throat before speaking, "The OT is prepped. We scheduled the surgery in the morning for a reason—you get to see your good luck charm before you go in." His eyes flicked toward me with a small smile.

My throat tightened. "But I... I’ll be in the office. How...?"

Angad shook his head immediately. "Di, you go to the office. Dr. Kabir is here. The medical staff is here. I’ll be fine."

“Angad...” My voice cracked.

"I can, Di," he interrupted gently, his own eyes soft but firm. "I’m your brave brother. I will handle it. I just need you to fulfill your promise. I want to see you after waking up. 

"But Angad... I want to be with you..." I said, swallowing a lump in my throat. I ca't leave him alone. 

Angad said,  his voice gentle, but the words more mature than his age. "Please, Di. Work is important too. You’ll just sit here and cry if you stay, and I can’t bear that. At least at work you’ll be busy. Please... for me."

The tears stung behind my eyes, but I forced a smile. "Okay, Angad." I coudn't ignore his earnest request. Why you have demand something like this... I want to here but at the same time, I don't want to deny him. He rarely asked me for something. He wants me to go to work then I will. I have to. 

"That’s my Di," he whispered proudly.

Dr. Kabir began his final checks, running tests and making sure Angad was stable for surgery. The beeping monitors were steady, but my heart wasn’t. Soon they came with the stretcher. Angad squeezed my hand when they moved him.

I bent down and kissed his forehead, my voice thick. "I’m waiting, putt."

(Dear)

He gave me a warm smile. "Deal."

Dr. Kabir caught my gaze before they wheeled him away. "Don’t worry, I’ll be inside with him. The surgeons are here, and I’ll have my assistant keep you updated. Go to work for him, Avleen. He’s in good hands."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

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I went home, changed quickly, and hurried to Black Crown, clutching my bag as if it could hold my fears. By the time I reached, it was barely 9:30 AM. I climbed the staircase two steps at a time, my breath uneven. My desk greeted me with files stacked like miniature towers.

An hour in, my intercom buzzed. "My cabin, now." Eshank’s deep voice came.

I straightened my clothes and hurried to his office.

"Did you arrange the gown for the ball tomorrow evening?" he asked without looking up from his laptop.

My stomach dropped. The gown. I had completely forgotten. "Not yet, sir. I will arrange it by tomorrow," I said, hating the tremor in my voice.

He finally looked at me, his face unreadable. "No need. You’ll be my partner at the ball. Everything will be company sponsored—the gown, accessories, jewelry, heels, clutch. Advik will have them delivered to your apartment tomorrow. And I’ll pick you up. If I’m busy, my driver will come. Don’t worry about how you’ll get there."

I blinked, caught off guard. “Thank you so much, sir,” I said, a little breathless.

"You’re welcome. Now focus."

Before I could leave his cabin, his question froze me at my place, "How is your hand?"

"It's fine, sir." I replied, without turning back, I can't lie to his face, he will caught it.

I just hummed at my answer and i left his cabin. 

reaching my cabin, I sat on the chair and started working again.

But my mind was split in two—half in that office, the other half back at the hospital, with my brother. I didn’t eat all day. A half-eaten sandwich sat on my desk for hours, turning cold. Updates trickled in—Dr. Kabir’s assistant called, voice calm. "The surgery went well. He’ll be unconscious for the next seven to eight hours. Stable. Don’t worry."

I exhaled slowly, but I didn’t stop working. I couldn’t. Maybe it was Angad’s words echoing in my ears: Stay busy, Di.

I joined my hands and murmured, "Thank you, Baba ji. My Angad is fine. He will walk again. Thank you... Thank you."

(God)

I thanked God and started working again. The day stretched into night. Files kept coming, emails kept pinging, and by 10 PM, my heels were abandoned in the corner of my cabin. My hair was tied up in a messy bun, stray strands sticking to my forehead.

Midnight turned into 2 AM. I finally placed the last file neatly on my desk, my fingers aching. I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes for a second.

"Just a few minutes of sleep..." I murmured, but my voice barely carried. The guards would probably check in soon, but I didn’t care. My body gave in, my mind still lingering between hospital corridors and Black Crown walls.

Hey Lovelies, here is another update. I hope you will like the chapter. Do tell me how was it in comment section. Waiting for your response. Don't forget to vote and comment.  

Thank you lovelies,

Mili

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Writingsbymili

An ambitious student who found solace in reading novels and writing her own imagination.