3

VRINDA

The moment I entered the cabin, whatever patience I had left finally snapped.

I shrugged off my white coat and flung it onto the chair like it burned my skin. The room felt too small, too suffocating. Without a word, I walked straight into the washroom and turned on the tap.

Cold water hit my face.

Once.

Twice.

Again and again.

I kept splashing until my reflection blurred, until my thoughts dissolved into nothing but the sound of water and my own uneven breathing. I needed the noise to drown out the past—to wash away the words, the accusations, the way Vijay Rajwadi had looked at me as if I were still standing in a courtroom instead of a hospital corridor.

When I finally stepped out, Vishwas was still there.

Leaning against the desk. Arms crossed. Concern written all over his face.

For a moment, I had almost forgotten he was in the room.

He hesitated, then spoke. “Will you seriously not operate on her?”

I didn’t look at him. “Didn’t you hear what he said?”

“Of course I did,” Vishwas replied quickly. “But I thought… maybe if you spoke to Vijay again, you could convince him.”

I laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “And what makes you think I would try to convince him? You’re talking as if I need this surgery.”

“I know, I know,” he said, rubbing his neck. “But it’s about someone’s life, Vrinda. I just thought—”

“So what?” I cut him off. “So what if it’s someone’s life? You think that gives them the right to question my integrity? My competence?”

I finally turned to face him, my voice steady but deadly calm.

“Let me be very clear, Vishwas. Even if they come back crawling. Even if they beg. I will not perform this surgery. Not now. Not ever. Not until they apologize for what they said and what they did.”

Silence fell between us.

I picked up my bag, gathered my belongings, and walked out of the hospital without looking back. Did they really think I would let this slide? That I would swallow yet another insult in the name of professionalism?

No.

Not this time.

Back at the hotel, I took a long, scorching shower, letting the steam burn away the residue of the day. The water helped—if only a little. I ordered room service, switched my phone to silent, and collapsed onto the bed.

I didn’t want Vishwas calling me.

I didn’t want explanations.

I didn’t want persuasion.

I just wanted the day to end.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains, warm and deceptive.

As soon as I checked my phone, my jaw tightened.

Fifty missed calls.

An unknown number.

And a single WhatsApp message:

Call me right now.

The audacity almost made me smile.

Ignoring the calls, I started my day the way I always did—yoga, controlled breathing, light stretches. I refused to let anyone hijack my peace. After a shower, as I was getting dressed for the day I had carefully planned, my phone rang again.

The same number.

Once.

Twice.

Five times.

I answered.

“Why the hell were you not answering my calls?” the voice roared the second I picked up.

I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear. “First of all,” I said coolly, “lower your tone. I know plenty of curse words myself—don’t tempt me. Second, who do you think you are? I’m not obligated to answer a stranger’s calls.”

“Don’t you have my number saved, Vrinda?” he snapped. “Seriously?”

“And why would I save a stranger’s number?” I replied, already knowing exactly who it was—but refusing to give him that satisfaction.

“Stop it, Vrinda!”

“Stop what?” I said calmly. “And by the way, I don’t have time. If you don’t tell me who you are right now, I’m hanging up.”

“For God’s sake, it’s me. Lakshay.”

I wasn’t surprised.

“Okay,” I said flatly. “What do you want?”

“Why did you deny the operation?”

“Your father answered that for you.”

“He never asked you to deny it.”

“His words were enough.”

There was a pause.

“Then what am I supposed to do now?” he asked, frustration bleeding through. “No doctor is ready to take the case at such short notice.”

“Do whatever you want,” I replied. “Not my concern.”

“When did you become like this, Vrinda?” he demanded. “You were never like this.”

I closed my eyes.

You made me like this, I thought.

But all I said was, “People change, Lakshay.”

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