The next day, Fiza was excited to work with Faisal in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). Among the delicate patients, two preemies reliant on ventilators due to their underdeveloped lungs presented a challenging situation, but the majority of the babies were stable, allowing for some downtime.

Faisal observed Fiza as she tenderly held one of the infants, engaging in playful interactions while the NICU's atmosphere provided a brief respite from the constant medical demands.

"Do you know your mommy is eagerly waiting for you to get better?" she cooed in Malayalam, adopting a sweet baby voice. "Once your little kidneys start working properly, we'll go visit your mommy together."

She spoke with utmost care to a newborn suffering from renal failure, having keenly watched her professor insert a dialysis catheter into the baby's abdomen for peritoneal dialysis earlier. With one baby comforted, another's cries beckoned her attention, illustrating the endless cycle of care required in the NICU.

Despite not being obligated to be present alongside her, Faisal chose to stay, embracing the opportunity to spend more time with her in this professional setting.

Amidst her studies and responsibilities, Fiza was caught off guard when Alan's excited voice filled her phone. "Fiza, I see you have Sunday off next week. I've booked a hotel for us Saturday night. Come around six. I'll be free until noon on Sunday."

Her brows furrowed as she listened to his enthusiasm, a lingering sense of doubt clouding her thoughts. This somehow felt like a booty call.

"What is it, Fiz?" Alan's voice held a trace of impatience, his excitement dimming as he sensed her hesitation. He wanted her to share in his joy, but the shadow of recent events loomed large in her mind.

"I... I don't think I'm ready," she managed to say, her voice wavering.

"You aren't ready to see me?" His words were filled with disappointment, and Fiza felt a pang of guilt. He couldn't blame her for her reaction, not after everything that had transpired.

Resigned, she looked at him and accepted his offer, her voice quiet. "No, it's fine. I'll be there."

Throughout the week, Fiza immersed herself in her work, cultivating the habit of reading up on the cases she encountered and making notes on plain paper, which she then organized into chapters in her binder.

Faisal was impressed with her dedication. As they navigated the days together, Fiza opened up about her aspirations.

"Do you want to do neonatology?" Faisal asked, prompting a thoughtful response from her.

"I'm not sure, but I think I want to do developmental pediatrics," she revealed, uncertainty mingling with excitement in her voice.

"That's different," Faisal observed, intrigued. "I don't even know where they offer that course."

Fiza shrugged, accompanied by a smile. "Me neither. But Alan can move wherever my course is," she shared a glimpse of their intertwined future.

They had talked about this. They wouldn't be separated after their post-graduation. "He's very lucky to have you," Faisal commented softly, a hint of longing in his tone.

"What plans for the weekend?" Faisal changed the subject, his voice lighter as they walked. Fiza felt her cheeks heat up as she replied, "I'm visiting Alan, Sir."

"Oh, I wasn't meaning to pry," he mumbled, feeling like he had accidentally intruded in her life.

Fiza's response came forth confidently. "It's okay. He is my fiancé."

"So you were telling me. Your parents agreed without fuss?" Faisal inquired, his interest clearly piqued by the complexities of her story.

"I dunno. It's a long and weird story. But the short of it is, I was kinda engaged to my sister's boyfriend," Fiza explained, a mixture of amusement and incredulity coloring her voice.

"What?" Faisal's interruption was followed by genuine laughter, a bright sound that cut through the heaviness that had surrounded them. "You are a serial fiancée."

"No! I was never going to marry that jerk. Anyway, Alan talked to my dad directly before proposing to me. They gave a conditional approval, and his mom loves me," she added with a smile, elaborating on the twists and turns of her romantic journey.

"Oh, so you guys never got formally engaged," Faisal surmised, his tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of something deeper.

"No, not formally," Fiza confirmed, her cheeks flushing inexplicably as she felt his gaze on her. Her heart raced, the blush betraying her emotions even though she couldn't quite put a finger on why she was reacting this way.

"But we will get married. Eventually," she affirmed.

On Saturday evening, Fiza felt a mild headache creeping in, stirring memories of her younger days when migraines were frequent visitors. She hoped this wouldn't turn into one of those episodes.

Unfortunately, luck was not on her side, and by the time she reached Manipal, the headache had morphed into a full-blown migraine. Alan picked her up on his bike, concern etched on his face.

"Migraine, Fiza?" he asked gently, recalling her history with migraines. She nodded, squinting against the light. "Are you feeling up to sitting on my bike?" he inquired, worry evident in his voice. She nodded again, and he drove them to the hotel.

"Alan, this must have been expensive," she commented, noticing the quality of the hotel.

"I picked up an extra casualty shift last week," he explained with a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Wrapping her arm around his waist, she felt a sense of comfort and safety in his presence.

When they finally reached their room, Alan turned off the lights, creating a soothing atmosphere. He helped her change into her pajamas and even found an eye mask for her.

Thankfully, he had ibuprofen in his bag, and he offered her 400 mg, hoping to alleviate her pain. "Lie down on my lap, Fiza," he whispered, aware of her sensitivity to light and sound during migraines. Gratefully, she complied, feeling his reassuring touch as he gently massaged her scalp until she drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Fiza woke up still nestled on his lap. She looked over at Alan, half-seated against the headboard. Seeing him there, caring for her, warmed her heart.

She vaguely remembered him waking her up during the night, feeding her, and soothing her pain. Not wanting to disturb his sleep, she got up quietly, brushed her teeth, and then gently lowered him onto the bed.

An impulse of affection overcame her, and she leaned down to place a tender kiss on his forehead.

His eyes fluttered open, and a soft smile graced his lips. "Fiza..." he whispered, his gaze filled with adoration. He pulled her onto the bed, hugging her close. Kissing her cheek, he held her with a tenderness that melted her worries away.

"Alan, I'm so sorry," Fiza murmured, seeking comfort in his embrace. Her voice was soft, laced with regret. She nestled against him, her head resting on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I know you planned this wonderful night, and I feel like I ruined it."

She tilted her head up to look at him, pressing a gentle kiss to his chin before snuggling back into the warmth of his chest.

Alan's fingers tenderly threaded through her hair as he listened to her. "Fiza, don't apologize. I just wanted to be with you, and in that sense, we had a perfect night," he reassured her, his voice a soothing murmur.

He lifted her face to meet his gaze, his eyes capturing hers with unwavering sincerity. "You know I'm utterly crazy about you, right?" His voice held warmth that only she could elicit.

"Even now?" Her voice trembled slightly, revealing the insecurities that sometimes haunted her thoughts. She genuinely didn't know if he still loved her or if this was just lust that had made him reclaim her.

"Always, Fiza. You're my princess," he declared softly, pulling her closer as if to anchor her to him. He leaned down, their lips meeting in a tender kiss.

"I'm sorry," she repeated softly, her tone laced with worry. The fear of him breaking up with her again loomed over her like a dark shadow. She felt ashamed of her vulnerability, but it was true. She had done away with her deal breakers: physical violence, cheating. She would stand by him through everything.

He furrowed his brows, a slight frown appearing. "Why are you apologizing for having a headache?" He seemed genuinely puzzled. "You are with me. That's all I care about," he replied, his voice filled with warmth.

"I thought maybe... you wanted more..." Her cheeks flushed as she spoke, and she averted her gaze.

"You thought I booked a hotel so we could have sex," he clarified, his tone gentle and understanding. Fiza chose to remain silent, and Alan continued to run his fingers through her hair in a soothing gesture.

"Fiza... I'm not going to break your rules again. No sex until marriage," he stated, capturing her lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of his respect for her boundaries. "I love you, Fiza. I'm not with you for... for being physical, princess. I just don't know how else to express how much I love you."

"I love you too, Alan," she responded, her heart full as their words wrapped around them, binding them together. Maybe he did love her after all.

With a hint of playfulness, Fiza climbed onto his lap, her affectionate gesture drawing a warm laugh from Alan. "We'll miss the buffet," he teased, but the happiness in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Oh, we definitely don't want that," she mumbled, a smile gracing her lips as she lingered comfortably on his lap, reluctant to move.

Playfully, he touched her curves, his fingers dancing gently across her stomach. "You've put on a little weight, Fiza," he commented, his tone light as he teased.

Her response was swift and spirited. "How rude! I gained some weight during COVID," she explained, a mock pout on her lips. "Do you not like it?" she inquired, her eyes dancing with mischief.

She had stress-eaten during COVID and had gained some weight, though she still fit into all her clothes, so she knew it wasn't much.

His demeanor shifted, his voice softening with sincerity. He pushed her down and climbed over her, capturing her gaze as he pressed kisses to her stomach. "I love every single part of you. Always will," he whispered, his words a loving promise that ignited a warm spark within her.

Touched by his tenderness, she reached out to touch his hair, her gaze filled with affection as it met his. "And what about you? Do you like my body?" he asked, his tone a blend of curiosity and playful affection.

Fiza nodded, laughter bubbling up. "Of course I do."

"I still work out; I can show you some core-strengthening exercises," he offered with a mischievous grin.

Fiza's reaction was swift, playfully pushing him off her. "Alan! You have a problem with my weight," she teased, her eyes gleaming with affectionate amusement.

It was clear to her that he was trying to navigate his feelings carefully, though she wasn't entirely sure she was okay with his comments on her body.

His response was quick. "I don't have a problem," he assured her earnestly, his gaze locking onto hers. "I love you, no matter what. But I do like your body, Fiza. I'd like you to maintain it."

Her annoyance faded as she looked into his eyes. A soft smile tugged at her lips. "Alright, then. Teach me those core exercises," she said, her voice filled with a mix of determination and affection.

His face lit up with a genuine smile, and he proceeded to guide her through a series of exercises. As she performed each movement, he closely observed, offering feedback whenever her form needed correction.

A sense of nostalgia tinged her thoughts, reminding her of their past basketball sessions, and a soft smile played on her lips. Fiza realized that he genuinely enjoyed training her, and the idea of continuing this practice with him felt inviting.

"You know," he whispered playfully as they reached the dining hall for the buffet, "you're the hottest girl in the room."

Fiza's laughter rang out, and she cast a quick glance around. "They're all older couples here, Alan!" Her eyes twinkled with amusement, and he joined her in a hearty laugh, realizing the context in which his compliment had landed.

As their conversation flowed, the topic naturally shifted to their professional endeavors. "Dr. Bhandari showed me how to do a PD catheter," Fiza revealed, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her tone. "But I haven't had the chance to do one on my own yet."

Alan's face lit up with a spark of shared enthusiasm. "I had my first major surgery too—it was like a whirlwind of emotions."

Fiza's admiration was evident as she responded, "That's seriously impressive, Alan. Look at us..."

Alan chuckled softly, the surroundings not escaping his notice. "I'm dying to give you a kiss right now, but our audience might not appreciate it."

Alan met Fiza's gaze, a blend of determination and tenderness in his eyes. "Honestly, I've been thinking about pursuing a fellowship in arthroscopic surgery, Fiza." He paused, knowing she wanted to pursue developmental pediatrics. "But I won't apply anywhere until you're done with your specialization."

Fiza's worry about the future seeped into her voice. "Alan, I don't want to be a reason for holding you back." But she was genuinely concerned about how their relationship would survive being apart for more years. They were treading on thin ice as it was.

Alan's reply was heartfelt as he looked at her with a mixture of vulnerability and resolve. "Fiza, you're not holding me back. You're the reason I've found my direction. I can't picture my journey without you. Every part of my dreams, my goals—it all has you in it."

Alan's words were earnest and real as he shared his thoughts. He had faced doubts and second thoughts about his path in medicine until Fiza became his confidante and guiding light.

When she had suggested orthopedics, it had been like a puzzle clicking into place, aligning perfectly with his passions and capabilities.

They wandered hand in hand through the hotel's surroundings, their connection evident in the occasional snuggles and stolen kisses. The clock ticked away, and soon it was eleven o'clock. Reality was calling, and Alan reluctantly drove Fiza to the bus station.

As they reached the station, their faces showed a mix of emotions. Fiza leaned in and kissed him tenderly. "I'll miss you," she said.

Then, with a sigh, she put on her mask, grabbed her bag, and stepped onto the bus. The engine rumbled to life, and with one last look and a wave, she embarked on her journey back to Mangalore.

**********************************************

Author's note

Weight is a touchy topic. Especially when someone you love, who you want attracted to you, comments on your weight.

Societal ideals are frequently unrealistic. You are either fat or skinny. You're too curvy or too flat. Too short or too tall.

Do you think it is inappropriate to ask your partner to maintain their body?

If you like this chapter, please vote!

- Faiza