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Time to Say Goodbye (Michigan Sweet Romance)

Page 12

by Parker J Cole


  Dr. Manchester’s mouth tightened. “Miss Kapoor—”

  “So far, your treatment hasn’t worked.” Gargi’s voice intensified with resolve. “And though I believe you are a good doctor, you are not knowledgeable about this condition. My brother is struggling for his life, and you can’t really tell me anything about what’s happening.”

  “Look, Miss Kapoor, there are no specialists in Lyme. Anyone else you go to is going to prescribe the exact same treatment I am. The difference between them and me is you’re going to be footing the bill.”

  Gargi frowned. “What on earth does that have to do with anything?”

  Dr. Manchester clasped her hands together, as if praying. “Miss Kapoor, I’m in your corner. Please understand that. But the state is paying for me to be here. As part of that non-disclosure agreement, the treatment your brother is currently receiving is all he’s going to get. Anything outside of my services is going to cost you.”

  “Okay…” Gargi still had no idea where the doctor was going with all this.

  “If you get an outside specialist who comes up with some weird procedure or treatment, that money is coming out of your pocket.”

  “What does money have to do with my brother’s life?” Gargi felt her anger rising. “You think I’m concerned about money? You think I’m going to go, ‘Aw shucks, I’ll just stick with you, then?’ while you stand there and tell me you don’t have a clue what’s wrong with my brother? There is no price on Dev’s life!”

  Twin spots of red flushed the doctor’s cheeks as she stood. Her blue eyes hardened like ice chips. Gargi stared back.

  After an instant of silence, the doctor said, “I’m trying to help you, Miss Kapoor.”

  “And I’m trying to heal my brother, Dr. Manchester. I need more help than you can give me.”

  Dr. Manchester’s mouth thinned to a white line. “Okay. We can call in a specialist. I can refer—”

  Gargi held up her hand. “I have someone in mind. I found information about her online the other day. I’m not risking my brother’s life anymore.”

  The woman’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “All right, give me the information.”

  Gargi pulled out the sheet of paper out of her purse. “It’s a Dr. Elizabeth Chalker. The address and phone number are there.”

  The animosity between them saddened Gargi. After all, she couldn’t negate Doctor Manchester’s quick thinking in discovering Dev had been afflicted with Lyme disease. Her discernment had saved his life in the beginning stages.

  Yet, there was more to the disease than discovery and triage. There had to be a plan of action. Whether it offended the doctor’s sensibilities or not, Gargi couldn’t let that stop her from making the best decision for her brother. If nothing else, the doctor admitted she had no idea what was wrong with Dev. Was she supposed to continue to let the blind lead the blind?

  Dr. Manchester took the paper from her. “Miss Kapoor, you need to understand that, while your emotions are involved, there will be other considerations you need to be cognizant of.”

  Gargi blew out a breath and scraped her fingers through her hair. “We’ll worry about it when it happens.”

  “Very well. I’ll contact this Dr. Chalker and I’ll update you when—”

  “No, I want to be there when you speak to her.”

  A muscle in Dr. Manchester’s cheek jumped. Gargi refused to back down. Dev’s life literally depended on it.

  Three hours later, Gargi opened the door to her home and closed it behind her.

  The last three nightmarish hours flew through her mind. Dev lying in bed, connected to a machine undulating his chest in a semblance of living. Papa by her side, his profile chiseled from stone, and his dark eyes heavy with sorrow. He’d decided to stay at the hospital tonight in order to watch over Dev. It was unlike him, and she knew he was worried as much as she was.

  She sank to her knees, onto the hardwood floor. “Please,” she whispered into the awful silence. “I can’t go through this again.”

  Though her eyes burned, tears still leaked from them. The conference call between Dr. Manchester and Dr. Chalker had been an uneasy one.

  “The approach to medicine needs to be updated,” Dr. Chalker stated when she listened to Dr. Manchester’s report. “We can’t have a one size fits all mentality anymore. Yes, antibiotics are helpful, but there’s more to Lyme disease care than drug administration.”

  “What exactly do you mean?” Gargi could still see the affront on Dr. Manchester’s face.

  “Look, your patient’s been affected with this for well over a month. After 48 hours of initial infection, it’s no longer a single spirochete. It multiplies, mutates, and changes the DNA.”

  “Dr. Chalker,” Gargi chimed in. “I found out that much in my research and from the Lyme community online.”

  “The Lyme borrellia mutates into different forms such as cysts and biofilms. The biofilm is a covering on the cells, so when the immune system sees the cell, it perceives it as a normal cell and bypasses it. This allows the disease to progress further and mutate more, making treatment difficult. The Lyme spirochetes embed themselves into tissues, muscles, ligaments, etc. and can transform into viruses. Co-infections tag along for the ride.”

  Dr. Manchester added, “The patient hasn’t exhibited any signs of co-infections.”

  “Yet.” Dr. Chalker’s surety came soundly through the phone. “And for goodness’ sake, stop the physical therapy immediately.”

  Gargi’s heart had fallen to her feet. “Why, Dr. Chalker?”

  “His body isn’t ready for that type of exertion. We have to make sure the patient’s body can detoxify the die-off of the bacteria first from the antibiotics before anything else.”

  Gargi shook her head. The bottom line was their care of Dev had been all wrong. The silver lining in all of this was Dr. Chalker’s visit to Tawas tomorrow to evaluate her brother for herself.

  The hush of the house grated on her ears. She’d no desire to be alone right now.

  Being alone only made it harder to quiet her thoughts about things she’d rather not dwell on. At least with Dev’s many needs, she could focus solely on him and not herself.

  She repositioned herself until she sat cross-legged on the cold hardwood floor. Waning Saturday afternoon sunlight cast long shadows on the walls.

  Tears swelled her eyes. This was all her fault. Just like with Mama and now Dev. Could she ever take care of those she truly loved without harming them? Was she meant to go through life with a curse upon her?

  “Oh God, why me?”

  Don’t question, that pastor’s voice from long ago whispered his words. Just accept.

  But she couldn’t. She couldn’t accept this! This constant cycle of pain and unhappiness.

  Swiftly she tugged the phone out of her purse and hovered her thumb over the screen to dial Savannah’s number. She knew her friend would be able to give her words of comfort. They’d talked several times since their first conversation in four years. Yet even as the digital keypad came up, her finger stayed.

  There was someone else who she longed for more.

  “Leon.” The sound of his name shattered the quiet of the room.

  His image rose up in her mind, along with Dev’s words: “I know you’re attracted to my sister.”

  Her cheeks burned in remembrance. When she’d eavesdropped on their conversation, those words had sent her reeling in shock. What if it was true? Could Leon be attracted to her? If that was the case, what did that mean for her?

  You need him.

  Where the voice came from she didn’t know, but the sentiment was true. She did need him. Needed his bulky presence. Needed to see his dark golden eyes stare down into her own so she could drown in their depths. Hear the sound of his gruff drawl that always caught her ear.

  When had her animosity turned to something more? At what point did the words, “I hope you rot” recede like the clarity of a photograph? Despite what he said, she still wanted him
to be here with her. Inexplicably, she knew he would comfort her in this terrible moment.

  Besides, she had to relate to him about Dev and what Dr. Chalker had said about the physical therapy. How would he take the news that his treatment, which he’d so diligently worked at for nearly the past month, could have had an adverse effect on Dev?

  Despite those early words of disdain, Gargi sensed Leon would be devastated.

  How to get in touch with him? He’d never given them his—

  Wait! The home exercise sheet!

  Scrambling up, she raced toward the living room where she kept the sheet in a small drawer and pulled it out. His number was on there. He’d scribbled under it: In case you have any questions.

  Gargi blew out a breath and then dialed the number. It rang twice and then, “Hello?”

  “Hi, Leon.”

  A pause. “Gargi.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Are you busy right now?” she gushed out. “I need to speak with you.”

  Just then, the doorbell rang. Gargi sighed and said, “Hold on.” She muted the phone and then headed to the door. Who could it be?

  When she opened the door, her mouth fell open. “Laal sher.”

  Slowly, Leon took the phone away from his ear and stared down into Gargi’s eyes. He’d come to terms with Gargi’s preference to call him ‘Lyle.’ From the expression on her face, it wouldn’t have mattered if she called him Diana Ross. He would have answered to it.

  He pushed the cap of his hoodie back. “May I come in?” It seemed silly to ask, but this was different from a pre-scheduled therapy session.

  Without a word, she stepped back and let him enter. So different from the first day when she jumped him in an attempt to push him out of her life. When the door closed, the quiet cocooned them. They stood there in the narrow entryway. It had grown darker, so he reached over and turned on the overhead entryway light.

  The light flooded her face. Dark hollows framed the lower half of her reddened eyes.

  “What’s wrong, Bugsy?”

  Her mouth opened and closed several times. Something had happened.

  “Is it your brother?” he asked after she continued to stand there, regarding him.

  She nodded as a tear fell from the corner of her eye. Without thinking about it, he reached forward and captured the tiny drop of liquid on the pad of his thumb. Besides accidental brushes, he’d never deliberately touched her before. Her cheek really was as soft as he thought it would be. Softer, even.

  “What is it?” he quietly asked.

  She bit her trembling lip. “Dev-Dev is in the hospital. H-he had trouble b-breathing today so I took him to the ER.”

  “Trouble breathing?” His eyebrows drew in. “Why?”

  Gargi let out a humorless breath of a laugh. It was a heart-breaking sound. “That’s t-the thing. Dr. Manchester d-doesn’t know.”

  His jaw slackened. “Doesn’t know? What kind of answer is that?”

  “The one she gave me.”

  Leon inhaled sharply. What kind of nightmare must it be when doctors say the words, “I don’t know”?

  “I told her in no uncertain terms I wanted a Lyme specialist I found online to evaluate him. She resisted at first, but then relented. Dr. Chalker is going to come tomorrow and evaluate Dev for herself.”

  “Well, that’s something.”

  “It is.” Gargi’s sighed. The scented tang of her cool, minty breath brushed against his face. “I couldn’t have her jumping around from diagnosis to diagnosis hoping to win the jackpot. Though I can’t think of which would be worse—guessing or not knowing.”

  Leon grunted in agreement. “I hear ya.”

  “Dr. Chalker also stated we needed to stop the physical therapy sessions immediately.”

  Leon stilled. “Why?

  Gargi looked off into the living room. “She stated Dev’s body wasn’t ready. The physical therapy would probably be more detrimental than helpful right now.”

  A piercing sensation sliced his gut. Kapoor’s words from Thursday flared up in his mind. “This whole…farce of therapy you call yourself giving me. Why isn’t it working?”

  Had Leon made things worse?

  “I only did—” His throat thickened, and the words couldn’t come out.

  Gargi turned back and clutched his forearm. Her grasp seared like a hot brand on his exposed skin. “I don’t blame you.” Her wet eyes flamed with a light of sincerity.

  The penetrating warmth of her hand battled the inward chill of his dismay. Hadn’t he wanted Kapoor to suffer for what he thought he did to his mother? How many times in the past had he longed for Devansh Kapoor to rot?

  Leon was supposed to be there to help Kapoor finish his sentence. Now he was at fault for the man’s condition worsening.

  His cheek tensed as he clenched his teeth. How could this have happened? “I’m sorry.” The words seemed inadequate. Useless, even.

  She gave another humorless laugh. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”

  “Yes, there is.” He walked away from her, torn up by the idea that what he set out to do was the exact opposite of what he accomplished. “I’ve said some horrible things to both of you. I never thought I’d regret it.”

  Gargi gasped. “Leon.” Her voice was faint, yet he heard it clearly. “What are you saying? Do you still think my brother—”

  He heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

  Which was nothing more than the truth. For the past two days, he wandered in the murky waters of doubt.

  Agitated, he strode into the kitchen. Just a couple of days ago, he sat there eating Gargi’s samosas and having, if not a friendly conversation, a civil one with her brother. In that time frame, he’d gone from blaming Kapoor for ruining his mother’s life to being on the precipice of changing his whole viewpoint of guilt.

  How could life change so quickly in a single moment?

  He turned around. “What else did the doctor say?”

  She sighed. “There’s too much information to share with you but, for the most part, she believes Dev is being affected by the die-off of the bacteria.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Another heavy sigh flowed out of her mouth. “When the viruses from the disease are killed off, they emit toxic gases. The immune system deals with the symptoms like it would if someone drank poison. If the body can’t detox it, they clutter and stack up. Dev complained about being tired. He had several headaches. We’d attributed that to his disease, not the fact the ‘medical cure’ could be killing him.”

  A stream of weak sunlight from the window over the sink cascaded over her face. More tears trailed down her cheeks. Leon’s heart thrashed inside of his rib cage. He’d found her beautiful in many ways, from her anger which amused him to her mirth which left him awestruck. Now, with sorrow’s arms wrapped around her, he found her breathtaking.

  Within the vulnerability clinging to her petite frame like a garment, he discovered a hidden truth. Underneath all the strength, determination, and passion Gargi possessed, there hid within her a little girl. A little girl, confused, wretched, and hurting.

  “I’m sorry, Bugsy.”

  Her mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. The tears continued to flow down her cheeks in a steady trickle wrenching at his insides. He succumbed to the same maddening urge which had compelled him to follow her when he chanced seeing her on the street as he drove back from the local market, not too long ago. The same impulse grabbed him now. It raised his arms, and before he could think of doing different he embraced her.

  How tiny she was! She came to the middle of his chest, and her slight figure barely left an imprint of weight. She snuggled against his open hoodie. He couldn’t hear her cries, which he expected, but her body shuddered.

  “Why are you so quiet?”

  She sniffed. “What do you mean?”

  He lifted her chin up with his forefinger. He could drown in the dark, glistening pools of her eyes. “Wh
y are you so quiet?”

  “Leon, I—”

  With his other hand, he caressed her hair. It felt like the smoothest silk. “You cry as if you have something to hide. You don’t have to hide with me.”

  “I’m not trying to hide.”

  “You are.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb again along her lower lid of her eye, catching the liquid. “Let it all loose, whatever it is you’re holding onto. Let it go.”

  Within his arms, her body stiffened like concrete. Then she said,

  “It’s dangerous to do what you are asking of me.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  If Gargi let go of the lock and key hiding all the pain from her past, she didn’t know if she could ever contain it again. From the fact she killed her mother, to her failed engagement to Rahul, to her decision to sign that dreaded agreement with the state and risk her brother’s life.

  This man, this strong, kind, and gentle man, who stood here in the closing darkness with her, could not begin to understand the need to restrain everything inside of her.

  Yet his voice had a hypnotic quality to it. “Let it all loose, whatever it is you’re holding onto. Let it go.”

  In all the time she’d known Leon, she had compared him to a hunter in her mind. How could she not, with his forceful dark golden gaze observing her every step? Yet, in this moment, she really was the quarry. But she wasn’t in danger of being devoured by Leon’s contempt.

  She was in danger of capitulating to the mesmeric bait of his tenderness.

  What would it be like to let go of it all? To shed her careful control?

  The twilight descended. Yet, even within it, she saw the glow of his dark, golden eyes calling to her.

  “Nothing’s dangerous when it’s shared, Gargi.” Leon’s voice jolted her. It deepened to a low, gruff drawl skittering along her nerve endings. His calloused forefinger caressed her jawline. His gaze lingered on the action of his hand with unabated interest.

  The roughness of it against her skin moved her. His touch soothed and stirred her in an unfathomable way.

  The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pulsed along the palm of her hand. It would be so easy to collapse into his comfort. She’d dig deeper into the warmth capable of melting the icy reserves of her control.

 

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