Perfect! Here's the updated Chapter
Seven years later.
The white coat felt heavier than she imagined. Not physically—but emotionally. Like everything she had ever fought for, cried over, bled through... was stitched into that fabric.
Dr. Vashti Dhiman. Neurosurgeon.
She stood in the hospital corridor, her badge swinging slightly, stethoscope draped across her neck. Five feet of sheer willpower wrapped in professionalism and rage management techniques she still didn't fully use.
"Page Dr. Shabd Heer. We need him in OR 3," the nurse called out.
Vashti didn't flinch.
That name didn't hit like a knife anymore.
It was more like a deep ache—the kind that never really left.
They hadn't spoken properly in months. Not since she'd joined the same hospital as him. And even then, he had only nodded when they passed each other.
But today, something was different.
Because today, they were assisting on the same surgery.
She stepped into the scrub room and paused.
He was already there.
Tall. Calm. Focused. Like nothing in the world could shake him. The same as he'd been all those years ago—but older. Sharper. More unreachable.
He looked up when she walked in.
There was a half-second of silence. A pause that wasn't professional—it was personal.
Then, quietly: "Congratulations, Dr. Dhiman."
She looked at him. "Took me long enough."
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "You made it."
Her chest tightened.
Not because of the compliment.
But because—for the first time—there was pride in his voice.
The surgery went on for four hours. Their hands worked side by side. Scalpel. Clamp. Suction. Silence.
It felt like choreography—two minds in rhythm, two hearts pretending not to race.
After the patient was wheeled out and the adrenaline faded, Shabd finally looked at her.
"You were good," he said.
"Of course I was," she replied, trying to hide the way her voice cracked.
He hesitated. Then added, "You're not a kid anymore."
Her breath caught.
It wasn't a love confession.
It wasn't even a maybe.
But for Vashti—who had faced years of silence, rejection, and distance—
Those six words felt like the first crack in the walls he'd built.
And just like that...
She knew.
He was finally starting to see her.
Not as the loud girl who followed him around.
Not as the storm he tried to outrun.
But as a woman who stood beside him—
In scrubs, in silence, and maybe, someday...
In love.
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