As Long As I Live

Journey To Recovery

I don't know if this chapter warrants a tissue warning.

Nevertheless, Enjoy!!

*****
How dare he!

How bloody dare he!

What the hell was he thinking smiling at her like that? Hell, he never smiled at him! Stupid psycho psychologist!

Was he flirting with her? Was he passing a few inappropriate comments? Suggestions? The Jerk! He knew since his college days that it was the silent ones to watch out for. The nerdy ones who pretended to be serious and smart. The ones who seemed to have all the answers.

But then why was Mayra smiling at him?

Aamir got up from the chair and paced frantically across the room. Not being able to eavesdrop on the conversation was becoming pure torture for him! To top it all he just couldn't understand what on earth was going on. Mayra was nervous at first, then she spoke rapidly and then she started to cry so much that Aamir was about to call the session off. Gaurav's gesture stopped him from intervening or else they'd be home by now. Then they seemed to be having a normal conversation.

And now they were smiling at each other.

She never smiled at him like that, thought Aamir as he sulked in his chair and fought the extremely childish and immature urge to pout like a baby.

At least he wasn't throwing his fits of rage around, randomly punching people in the face. Considerable improvement, he thought to himself, that he was able to hold back. Improvement - that even now he wasn't resorting to murder and was able to keep his cool.

At least superficially.

Internally, he wanted to pull Mayra out of the room and drag her home. And then return here to do something really really nasty to Gaurav.

Stupid psycho psychologist.

He sat down again and massaged his temples thinking of all the reasons why he couldn't murder Gaurav. First of all, it would freak Mayra out. She'd run away screaming. Secondly, she would lose all faith in him when he said that he was able to control his temper now. Thirdly, Zaheer would be mad at him if he asked him to bail him out of murder.

Lastly, oh yeah, he thought dryly, it was illegal.

Suddenly, he started to laugh. Ya, it was funny alright. Funny how love could change you so very completely. He hadn't lied when he told Mayra that he would remain a lovesick puppy for her. Her lovesick puppy. In the hospital he was being driven to heights of hormonal adolescent madness, as intense desire raged through him at a simple touch from her, that sigh of pleasure and the heavy lidded gaze. He'd been horrified to think that he was acting like a teenager on his first crush.

Now a simple smile of her's directed at another man was driving him crazy as envy erupted in his chest. He wanted her to smile at him, and only him, like that. He would give himself to her completely, surrender himself to her wilfully but his heart desired for her to do the same.

The vibration of his phone broke his thought as he pulled it out to see his father calling him. It still felt strange to speak to the man. For two years he had been estranged from his father who could never forgive him for his atrocities. He kept away from Aamir, and Aamir knew that even now his father was speaking to him only out of concern for Mayra.

"Salam Papa."

"Salam," came the gruff reply. "How's it going?"

"I don't know," Aamir answered truthfully. "They're still inside."

"Is she okay? Is she freaking out? Don't let it get too much for her! Bring her home as soon as its done, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Papa."