It was their last month of internship. Alan was sitting opposite Fiza at Fresca, a local eatery just outside the campus. He was unusually quiet.

"So, the kid had meningitis, and I kinda knew just looking at him that this wasn't just a regular fever. He is doing so much better now! Out of the ICU, and his parents are so happy. It feels so good to make a difference," concluded Fiza excitedly. She was enjoying her pediatric rotation and had finally decided to pursue pediatrics.

"I want to use my brain and my heart," she had told Alan a few days ago, and he had responded, "And I want to use my hands and my muscles." They had both laughed. Alan hoped to pursue his specialization in Orthopedic Surgery.

Alan usually enjoyed Fiza's storytelling; she could make the most trivial activities of her day seem exciting and interesting just because she was excited and interested. But today, Alan was unusually quiet.

Fiza sensed something was off and reached out to him, placing her hand on his.

He held it firmly, a hint of worry in his eyes.

"Alan, you okay?" Fiza asked, concerned by his distant expression.

"What if I can't do it, Fiza?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Do what, Alan?" she inquired, trying to understand his thoughts.

"What if I don't get into PG? What if I don't make it? Your dad will..." he trailed off, worry written all over his face.

"Alan, don't be silly. You're acing the mock tests. You'll do amazing," she assured him.

"But what if I don't?" he persisted, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I'll still marry you," Fiza reassured him with a smile.

"You won't. Remember how miserable you were last year when you didn't talk to your parents for a month. You won't be able to go against them," Alan replied, looking away.

"Alan, I didn't have you back then. But I have you now," she said, trying to soothe him.

Alan continued to avoided eye contact with her and swallowed hard.

"I opened a bank account in your name," he confessed. "I've transferred the Alizamusic money into it. And I added whatever is left from my fashion show gigs and internship stipend."

Their joint Instagram account, Alizamusic, had gained a few more sponsors during their final year of MBBS, but lost traction during their internship, as they had had little time together to focus on music

Fiza was taken aback by what he was implying, but she waited for him to say it.

"Tell me that if things don't go according to plan, you'll run away with me," Alan finally looked into her eyes.

"Alan, it's not going to come to that. You're just stressed about exams," she tried to assure him, but he interrupted her.

"In a month, you'll be done with internship, and you'll go home. I'm so scared that I'll never see you again," he said, his voice breaking.

Fiza was at a loss for words. She took both his hands in hers, unsure of how to respond when she herself had similar fears. "Alan, you have to believe that we are going to make it. I worry too, about what will happen if we're far away from each other for PG."

"I will choose a hospital close to you, even if I have to give up on a better place away from you," Alan said immediately.

Fiza thought for a moment. She didn't want to hold him back, and she didn't want him to hold her back either. But they needed to be close. Three years away from each other could break them.

"Fiza, if we are far away, will you marry me before PG starts?" said Alan desperately.

"I don't know. If that happens, we'll talk to our parents about it, okay?" responded Fiza.

"I love you, Fiza," said Alan earnestly. "I love you more than anything else in the world."

"I love you too, Alan," she responded easily.

All too soon, the internship was over. Fiza decided to stay back in the hostel to study for her entrance exams, along with Shahana and Priya. They now had to take membership at the college library to use it.

Alan was thrilled that Fiza was staying back. They spent every awake minute together.

"Fiza," Alan said one day as they were revising biochemistry. "I owe you everything." He looked at her, his angel, the one who had changed everything in his life. He wondered where he would be if she hadn't intervened. He recalled the haze of drugs, alcohol, and sex he had been in till she had strode into his life and shown him what it meant to be truly happy.

She smiled at him, not knowing what to say. He was her world too. She couldn't believe that he loved her or that anyone could love her as much as he did. He made her feel special. "Alan, stop staring at me and focus on studying," she scolded and then touched her stomach.

She was hungry; they had run late on their topics and had delayed lunch.

"I'll get us some cup noodles," said Alan, deciphering her gesture correctly.

They ate in silence. The NEET PG exams were in less than a month, and then they would be forced to go separate ways.

This was at the back of both their minds, and Fiza leaned on Alan, resting her head on his shoulder. Alan took her hand in his and drew zigzags on her wrist.

She sighed. Why did every touch from him set her body on fire? She wrapped her other hand around his arm and closed her eyes.

"Noodles are getting cold," Alan commented distractedly, still drawing on her wrist.

"Hmmm..." she said.

He looked around to see if anyone was looking their way and quickly kissed the top of her head.

Fiza sat upright and looked around.

Alan laughed.

"Idiot," she said, picking up her cup noodles.

"Here you go," said Alan, giving her the bottom portion of his noodles.

"No one's going to give me the bottom of their cup noodles during PG," complained Fiza, pouting her lips.

"I will. We are going to be together," stated Alan, looking at her. "We can do this, Fiza. We've gotten so far. There is no reason for us not to..."

Fiza put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, noodles forgotten.

"Fiz, babe, not here, the security guard will kick us out," Alan said, pushing her off of him gently.

"I can't study anymore," declared Fiza, shaking her head. "I can't focus."

"Okay," agreed Alan, putting his books in his bag and picking up her pens and highlighters. "Come home today."

"We talked about this, Alan, I'm not going to stay with you," reminded Fiza.

Since they had unstructured time, Fiza was worried about spending time at Alan's as it could easily become habitual and tempting.

"Fiza, we have seventeen days left for NEET. Come, let's take a break. It'll do us good. Just come home with me," Alan insisted.

Fiza packed her books and held on tight to Alan as he took her to his house.

"Ma, Fiza is going to stay with us today," called out Alan as he opened the door and walked in. To his surprise, his grandmother was at home.

His mother gave him an exasperated look. His grandmother had met Fiza before and had privately given her approval even before they had been official.

"Ah! Look who is here!" she exclaimed in Malayalam. "Alan's pretty friend." She laughed.

"She's my girlfriend now, ammachi," announced Alan, leaning down and kissing both her wrinkled cheeks.

"Yes, I knew it then only!" she nodded, while his mother looked shocked at what he had revealed to his usually judgmental grandmother.

"Fiza, come here. Let me look at you," she commanded.

Fiza walked over, smiling, and kissed her, copying Alan.

Alan beamed at her.

"So when are you getting married?" she asked, taking Fiza's hand in hers. But before she could answer, she said, "We should make her meet Father Cherian; he does the conversion classes."

Fiza looked at her in shock. "I'm not converting," she said automatically.

"Then how will you marry Alan? We won't let him become a Muslim," she said sternly.

"We'll do a register marriage," said Fiza. She had looked it up. The Special Marriage Act allowed two Indians of different religions to marry each other without conversion.

Alan's grandmother's eyes went wide. She shook her head. "We will not allow that."

Alan's mother was at a loss for words, but his father spoke up. "Amma, they are just kids. The elders will get together and make a decision."

Fiza looked at Alan. Did he expect her to convert to Christianity? She was irritated with him. He just stood there smiling, as though he didn't know what his family was talking about. And why hadn't he talked to his mother and asked her about it before taking her home? Now, she was going to be stuck with his grandmother while she had just been trying to get a break from stress and relax. She was working herself up and could feel her temper rising.

Alan went over to her and put his arm around her.

His grandmother's eyes narrowed.

Fiza gave up and let him take the lead. She was tired of trying to control every situation.

"Ammachi," he said, his hands still around her. "Fiza is more Christian than most of the girls at Church."

What? Fiza's irritation with him was growing, but she tried not to show it.

"She's an angel, ammachi. My angel." He kissed her cheek, causing his grandmother to place her hand on her chest.

"That's enough," scolded Alan's mother, but the grandmother cut her off. "You'll bring us shame if you do a register marriage. My two grandsons, both giving our family shame."

Alan ran to her side. "Ammachi, I'll talk to Fiza, okay? You don't worry about this now. We'll figure it out," he assured her.

Fiza was shocked at what he said. She abruptly turned and walked into his room.

A few minutes later, Alan joined her.

"Why did you have to do that? Kiss me in front of everyone?" yelled Fiza, angry at Alan and angry at the situation. "And really? You'll talk to me? About converting to Christianity?"

"Shhh..." said Alan, "they'll hear you. My family is really cool. I was just trying to get ammachi to calm down and get her used to the idea that you and I are together."

"Aargh!" cried Fiza in frustration and sat on his bed. She held her head in her hands, just tired of it all.

Alan sat next to her and gave her a side hug. Fiza exhaled. Alan then pushed her down onto his bed and kissed her lips.

"Mmm..." she hummed, her body still tense.

He massaged the back of her neck, and his hands moved down to her shoulders and arms. He was still kissing her, and she was kissing him back, needing him.

She wanted everything to just fall into place, and it wasn't. There had been too much stress for way too long. She wanted some assurance of her happy ending to be with him. But Alan was kissing away her stress for now and maybe that was enough.

Her hands followed his lead, massaging his neck and shoulders. He lifted her gently by her torso and positioned her at the center of his bed. He climbed over her and kissed her lips, resting his body on his elbows.

He sucked at her earlobes, causing her breath to hitch. He kissed her neck and made his way to her collarbone. He slid his hand under her shirt and kneaded her breast, pressing himself on her.

"Mmm," she moaned softly again. She tangled her fingers on his hair and slid them down to feel his broad shoulders. He kissed her cleavage and moved further down, kissing her stomach, making her quiver. He reached the waistline of her pants.

He chanced a look at Fiza. Her eyes were rolled backwards and her body arched in the pleasure of his touch. He unbuttoned her. His heart pounding in his chest, he pulled her pants down . He kissed her over her underwear.

Fiza let out a loud gasp.

Just then there was a knock on the door.

Alan quickly got off of Fiza and threw a blanket on her.

His mother opened the door, saw the flushed look on their faces and shook her head. "Door will remain open. Fiza will sleep in Alex's room. At least behave when ammachi is here."

As Fiza pulled her pants back up, Alan kissed her forehead. She was still trembling from the encounter, and he hugged her tight until her breaths evened out.

"Alan," she breathed as he started kissing her face again. Her eyebrows, her cheeks, her jawline. "You'll definitely marry me, right?" she asked, her eyebrows knitted together in worry.

He kissed her lips, and though she tried to talk, her words were muffled by his passionate kisses.

He bit her neck and sucked at her skin, eliciting a moan from her. She held on to him, writhing underneath his touch. She was losing control and was ready to give in to him. Turning her face, she suddenly realized the door was wide open, leaving them exposed.

"The door," she motioned urgently.

Alan pulled away from her, his breathing heavy. "I want you tonight, Fiza," he said, desire evident in his voice.

She shook her head, trying to regain her composure.

"Your grandmother will have a heart attack," she whispered, smiling teasingly.

He kissed her again, unable to resist her allure.

"No, Alan," she said, gently pushing him away and sitting up on his bed. "I'm serious, let's not piss them off, okay?"

Alan gave her one last quick kiss and reluctantly agreed, saying, "Okay."

The next morning, Fiza woke up alone in Alex's room. She had left the door unlocked, hoping that Alan would sneak in, but he hadn't come to see her. Panic started to rise as she checked her timetable. They had wasted yesterday evening, and now they were running late with only a few breaks scheduled for today.

She hurriedly barged into Alan's room and found him sleeping. His peaceful form brought a smile to her face, momentarily easing her stress. Standing there by his bedside, she took a moment to admire him - the way his curls had grown a little longer than usual, his unshaven face, the delicate shadow cast by his eyelashes, and his lips that were slightly parted.

Unable to resist, she sat on his bed and gently stroked his hair. Without opening his eyes, he instinctively pulled her closer and kissed her lips.

"Morning breath," Fiza mumbled playfully.

Alan smiled, still half-asleep, and pulled her into a warm embrace.

"I love you, Alan," Fiza whispered affectionately.

"Hmm," Alan responded, holding her tightly, not quite ready to wake up from his dreams. He was dreaming about a future where she was his wife, and they were living together. It was a sweet and simple dream, and he didn't want to let it go.

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

Authors's note

Did you know that doctors with specializations train spend about 9 years in training before they start practice?

Add to that some of the mandatory rural postings that can be 1-2 years. A lot of times, it takes you away from your family, something that is especially hard for women physicians whose spouses hold jobs away from them.

I have linked a humorous YouTube video that captures the general attitude of orthopedic surgeons :)

Tell me your thoughts on the chapter and don't forget to vote!