Aarav Malhotra had never stayed in one place longer than necessary.
Yet here he was—
hospital wristband on, meetings cancelled, life paused.
“This is torture,” he muttered as Ananya checked his vitals.
“This,” she replied calmly, “is survival.”
He looked at her. “You enjoy controlling my life, don’t you?”
She smiled lightly. “No. I enjoy keeping you alive. Big difference.”
For the next few days, Aarav was forced to follow routines—medication, rest, walks, food he didn’t like.
And somehow… Ananya was always there.
Correcting him.
Arguing with him.
Saving him.
One evening, he watched her quietly while she explained something to a patient’s family—so gentle, so patient.
“You’re different with them,” he said later.
“And you’re different when you stop pretending,” she replied.
That night, for the first time, Aarav slept without waking up from stress.
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