“Doctor
– ”
“Sir. I’ve made myself clear. This
will go on for eternity unless – ”
“You
don’t understand, Doctor Devon.” Sir James Elliot’s piercing gray stare was
enough to freeze a field, but Tristan didn’t even look away. He’s determined to
get what he wanted.
“Then
maybe you should explain, sir. I memorize the hospital protocol – I have the
hardcopy and I memorize it from cover to cover – so unless you revised it
recently, I don’t see why you won’t grant me permission.”
For
three days, Tristan relentlessly pursued his goal. He made a proposal for all
the managers of the facility’s branches to sign, allowing him to continue his
assignment within the confines of his home. Several had been no work at all –
they signed right away. Some needed a bit more coaxing, but they always gave
in, eventually.
Only
one remained.
Sir
James heaved a sigh, “This place is more than capable – ”
“I
wasn’t implying anything of that sort – sir.”
Tristan added hastily, “I made it a point to stock my house with some medicines
from the downstairs pharmacy just in case, and if it makes you feel better,
I’ll buy the equipment, too.” Now that I
have my cards back, he wanted to add.
He
felt a mix of emotions as he was regarded by the older man Of all the managers,
Sir James had been the one he was most sure of securing a grant. He allowed
Reeya’s chains to be removed after Tristan’s episode, after all.
“I
hope you know what you’re doing, Tristan,” With obvious reluctance, he brought
out a pen and signed above his printed name on the proposal.
“Thanks
a lot, sir.” Tristan smiled widely.
“We’ll
see,” Then he walked away.
Even
though he was left alone on the fourth floor – the finance and all the
paperwork area of Macquarie – Tristan’s grin couldn’t be supressed. All he had
to do now was to pass the folder in his hands to the company president – Grover
Young – on the seventh floor and Reeya will be free to go to his home.
Reeya.
He smiled wider. Three days had passed since her sudden outburst, but
everything had been fine after then. Not necessarily better, but fine. She
still had her episodes, but he’d been there whenever those happened. He held
her and soothed her until it stopped.
She
always mentioned blue.
Tristan
was so deep in thought as he made his way through the second floor to his
office. At the few hours of sleep he got, he tossed and turned, thinking about
the hue. He had no idea as to what it might be.
“Tristan.”
The
familiar voice made him freeze in his tracks. He hadn’t heard it in almost a
week.
Turning
his head to the right, his unbelieving eyes met the unreadable ones of Gabriel.
For
a few moments, the two just stood there in silence that was so unlike them at
all.
“…Gab?”
Gabriel
Redwood looked awfully uncomfortable. He disgruntledly murmured, “I don’t talk
to you for a few days, you start forgetting my name. And I thought you were
young.”
“Wha
– I – we can talk in my office – I mean, if it’s okay with you and all...”
“Okay.”
He
couldn’t believe it. He’d purposefully kept out of his friend’s way because it
was just too taxing for both of them to see each other, but here he was,
walking by his side.
He
sent up a silent prayer that this would sort things out.
After
Tristan sat down behind his desk, Gabriel looked around the room with a strange
look in his eye before sitting down on the couch. He asked, “Did you change the
décor? I feel like, I don’t know, some things shouldn’t be here at all.” He
finished the sentence, gazing at the newly purchased cactus plant, which had
previously been a palmera. Before the unknown entity smashed the office to
pieces, that is.
“Yeah,
I did. It was – was nothing.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Gabriel about that. Not right now.
“So.”
It
was painfully awkward. The silence between the two seemed so tangible at that
moment. Then Gabriel continued, “You were going to 572, weren’t you?”
“Yes,
I was.” Tristan didn’t even hesitate.
“Okay,
here’s the thing,” Gabriel took a quick, deep breath and knit his fingers
together, “I’m gonna say this only once, so listen up.” Another deep breathe,
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just angry; I really had no idea
what I was shouting about. There,” he nodded, pleased with himself, “I said it.
Got that, rainbow?”
Tristan smiled, his heart about to
burst with joy and relief, “Got it. You were never really the one for
apologizing.”
“I wasn’t apologizing,” came the
murmured reply, accompanied by a sulking face.
Tristan chuckled, “If you say so. Atleast you weren’t
staring daggers at me, or making a fist when you said it – ”
“That was different,” a hint of a smile was tugging
on the older man’s face, “That guy at the bar – that was his fault.”
“Agreed,” said Tristan, as he recalled the event
from a year ago. That was one hell of an experience.
“I was wrong, you know. About your patient. She’s a
damned good artist.”
“You saw her work?” A full grin was on his face
again. He saw the painting in his mind’s eye. He told her the exact same thing
Gab just said, but her response had been that it was mostly practice. Still, he
could see she has a natural flair for it. Tristan had never seen bluebells so
vividly represented by only a paintbrush.
“Hell, yeah. You’d think the man-made garden was
something from fairytales.”
“Yes, she’s amazing.”
It was precisely at that moment that Tristan knew it
was okay, that the two of them came to certain understanding that they were
friends again. He’d do all he can for Gab not to be that angry again.
“Heartthrob, there’s something else you should
probably know. I wasn’t really angry at you, back there. I was more frustrated
with myself.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Someone was – ”
There was a knock on the door.
Swallowing an ungrateful grunt, Tristan called out, “Yes?”
An unrecognizable face stuck her head inside the
room, “Doctor Devon?” Tristan could tell the nurse was trying hard not to let
her voice shake, then she said, “We need you in the ward.”
No comments:
Post a Comment