… How could I burn your image from my heart without confessing I am sinner?...
1 YEAR LATER
AMSTERDAM.
In a prestigious hospital, a twelve years old boy was sobbing miserably in his room, refusing to cooperate with the doctors.
“No! I won’t go!”
Sighing at his demeanor, the nurse rushed out of the room, approaching a certain doctor.
His brown hair flowed flawlessly with a coffee in his hands, whistling to himself until the nurse called him.
“Doc, patient in room 207 is causing a tantrum again,”
Stopping in his tracks, he emitted a deep, husky, sigh, taking a sip of his coffee nonchalantly before following the nurse.
Standing outside the child’s room, he forced out a charming smile and entered the room with his emerald eyes gleaming, causing all the nurses to scan him in awe.
His muscles visible through his white shirt, rolled perfectly, his tie slightly loose with two buttons opened, revealing his toned chest.
“What happened, Champ?”
His velvety tone came, coming closer and placing his hand over the kid’s head.
“I don't want to die, Doctor! I don’t want to go for the operation, I am afraid.”
The kid cried, shaking his head in denial to which the doctor sighed, ruffling his hair.
“Here I thought you are a big man who is not scared of anything. And why? When I am here.”
Lowering his gaze, a few tears rolled down his cheeks.
“They said chances are low. I don't want to die yet,”
Upon hearing it, he let out a suppressed chuckle, showing his hands, “I know all the cures. These hands will surely cure you,”
The kid paused, “Promise?”
“I no longer make promises but you have to trust,”
He smiled, giving his head a final pat after convincing him for the operation and going out of the room.
His smile vanished, twisting his handsome features into a hardened one as the nurse approached him again with a frown of disappointment.
“Why did you lie? We all know he cannot survive, chances to remove that tumor are too low,”
To her complaint, he finished his coffee, throwing it perfectly in the trashcan in the corner with a painful reality.
“Life is a lie,”
“Ready for the surgery, Doc? Are you sure you can maintain your streak?”
The emerald-eyed doctor’s colleague teased him as he hadn’t failed a single surgery yet.
They were thrilled to see if his words were fake or not. And to their surprise, the surgery was successful.
“You… did it?”
He was washing his hands but paused.
Taking a moment, he lowered his mask and glanced over his shoulder with a dark, deadly hint and whispered temptingly.
“I bet you this doctor knows all cures,”
Exhausted from the surgery, he informed the kid’s parents first who ended up crying, blessing him wholeheartedly.
“Thank you so much, Doctor Alroy. You have granted us a new life. You have returned our happiness. Thank you,”
Flashing a nervous smile, he scratched the back of his neck.
“You don't have to thank me. I did my job only.”
It sounded funny to his ear. It felt so, so wrong to hear.
After cutting his talk short with the parent’s, he mentally sighed and came back to the lounge where his fellow doctors were present, indulging in their lunch.
“Another successful surgery?” A professional cardiologist, Keith, smirked at him.
“Obviously.” He hummed, grabbing a sandwich to fill his empty stomach.
“Seriously, Nathaniel. You have been working here for six months. You have no specific experience either. How come you are so professional?” Another doctor asked with intrigue.
“My hands were meant for it. That is all. Though it took me a long time to be where I belong,”
Chuckling at the comment, feeling pride in his talent, he waved his hand in the air.
“What were you doing all this time? You completed your degree long ago then why work now?”
Keith asked again but lowering his hand, he stared at it for a few seconds before reply seriously.
“I no longer remember nor do I want to.”
After eating, he was having a break until his friend came hastily.
“Nathaniel!”
“What is it, Mark?”
Not moving, head inclined against the headrest while rubbing his temples, he hummed.
“Brother. Please can you switch shifts? I want to make up for last month's work. My wife is furious,”
He smiled sincerely, “Looks like you love your wife a lot,”
“More than anything.”
“You should also get settled. Don't you feel lonely? Being single at 35?”
They commented, confused when every single female he had met was head over heels for him yet he refused to even lift his gaze.
They even tried to set him up but he simply declined any romantic connection.
“My time hasn't arrived yet,”
Sighing, he got up, not wanting to extend this conversation and walked away until Mark spoke seriously from behind.
“Sometimes those who wait, often lose their opportunity.”
Frowning, he responded in the same tone, “We will see about it. You go to your wife,”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks. See you later, Man.”
Rolling his eyes, at his stubborn friend who was lost in his own world, he left. Nathaniel was taking his place as Mark worked in the emergency ward.
As per habit, he was twirling a pen around his fingers, eyes becoming heavy and before he knew it, he fell asleep.
Mouth opened, laying on the couch, he was wallowing in a peaceful sleep as the comments of him being a ‘savior’ from his patient may have been weird for him.
Still they provided him with serenity, a sheet of tranquility to sleep peacefully at night, knowing he had done something good.
All of it was peaceful.
Curling his lips upwards in his sleep, he was enjoying his relaxation until a screeching call came desperately, searching for any doctor available for the night.
“Doctor Alroy! We have an emergency!”
“Huh? What?”
Blinking, his eyes shot open, rushing out of the cabin immediately when the nurses called him worriedly.
“Doctor!”
“What happened?” He asked, tense if something horrible had happened which it did-
“A severely shot patient has come. It needs immediate medical assistance,”
“Okay, I am coming!”
Nodding quickly, he mentally cursed. Just when he thought about relaxing something fell on his head. Instructing the nurses, he was about to enter the operation theater.
“Hmm?”
Narrowing his eyes, he saw two guards, indicating that the person who had come was not ordinary, rather a bigshot.
Not pondering deeply about the guards, he entered to treat his patient.
“Nurse, have you prepared the drip-”
His words were left hanging in the middle when a certain 33 years old woman with longer than usual hair was present with blood oozing from her side.
“What the-”
Freezing his whole being when unexpectedly, unwillingly his paths cross with her again. That too in such a critical state.
But did that unforeseen reunion mean he would return? He had no idea.
Though no matter what, it no doubt ached.
To find her there…. shot.