Destiny's Gamble

Don't Know How

Manik's POV

"Almost...done," I murmur, fully focused on finishing up bandaging Angel's foot. Throughout the process, I haven't heard a single sound from her lips. I considered her to be a delicate darling, but Angel's the complete opposite.

"Perfect!" I exclaim, as I cut the extra length of gauze, watching my fine work with pride. I could've had a great career in the medicine field had I wanted one. I toss the scissors and roll of gauze back into the kit. I've been avoiding Angel's eyes since I began fixing her up, simply because I do not want to see the pain in them. 

"You okay?" I ask, finally meeting her gaze. She's staring at me, her eyes glistening with clogged up tears; a few traitor ones streaking her cheeks. "The meds option is still open." Angel shakes her head, lips pursed. Considering she's not babbling away I'm assuming that her head is back down on the ground.

"I don't want to go back just yet," Angel says. 

"Then you don't have to," I reply without hesitation. Frowning, I pick up the kit and return it to its designated place. Why the heck am I allowing her to stay? Isn't distance what I want from her? 

"You've got a good behind, Manik." Angel comments, making me smile. I don't turn around, simply because I don't want her to see how amused I am by her newfound self. Maybe Angel should get high more often.

"And you haven't changed yet," I say, turning around once my expression is back to neutral. "I'm telling you, Angel, I won't babysit a sick child."

"I'm no child." She pouts, folding her arms across her chest. "And no child gets high anyway." 

"Yes, that changed tonight." I grab the edges of the blanket, pulling them towards her. She kicks her legs like a tantrum throwing baby, making the task twice as hard. "Nandini," I take her name with a strict tone. 

Her name always sounds so odd leaving my lips, considering I rarely take it. Before this entire marriage fiasco, I began calling her Angel because the name felt intimate. No one else had the right to call her that and so it made us special. And even though now I don't wish to make the bond between her and I special, I still call her by this name because it feels right. It's like a bad habit that I simply cannot let go of easily.

"Manik, I don't want you to hate me." Angel confesses, as I wrap her in the blanket till her chin. Her bottom lip juts out again, as a fresh set of tears fill her eyes. "I-I miss you. The old Manik. The one who didn't consider me an enemy, but a friend."

How do I confess to you that no matter how hard I try I simply cannot bring myself to hate you? Hating you wouldn't mean asking Sateesh to send me hourly updates regarding your well being. It sure as hell wouldn't lead to me installing security cameras around the place, so that I can monitor any suspicious activity at home while I'm out late. You wouldn't be sitting in my room if my heart was filled with such negative emotions towards you. I wouldn't have just treated you with more care than I've ever taken care of myself. 

She reaches out for my hand, wrapping her warm palm over my cold skin. In what words can I portray the feeling that fills my body whenever she touches me. It feels as if I've swallowed the sun and along with shedding its warmth upon me, it also relieves whatever burdens are on my shoulders.

"I...I'm sorry," I say, unable to meet her gaze. An apology won't suffice, I know. What're two weak words? I'm sorry for causing her pain and making her undergo such tough times, but I cannot bring myself to simply be friends with her either. I haven't till date forgiven people for matters which are petty in comparison to this, so how shall I expect myself to let her off the hook? Even though every fiber of my being is begging me to do so.