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JESSIE
“Where does it hurt, Jessie?”
“My left ankle,” I bit out.
Aryan slipped off my heel slowly and I bit back a yelp.
“I’m going to check your ankle now, and it might hurt a bit, okay?”
I nodded.
He lied. It didn’t hurt a bit. It hurt a LOT. It took every bit of courage I had to keep from screaming. What kind of idiot breaks her ankle a week before her brother’s wedding? A plaster cast and crutches were so not theshaadichic that I had in mind.
Aryan probed my ankle with his soft hands, and when he pressed on a particularly tender spot, I almost kicked him in the face. He backed away with a relieved smile.
“No broken bones, thankfully. It’s just a sprain. You need to ice it for some time and then I’ll strap it up for you.”
“Are you sure?” I asked tearfully.
“Pretty sure, Jess. But we can take an X-ray tomorrow morning to confirm. You’ll be fine in a few days.”
“By a few days, you do mean before the wedding, right?Right?”
“Let’s see. Maybe if you stay off that ankle for the next couple of days, it might heal enough for you to dance a bit at the sangeet. Only if you’re standing in one place, though. I wouldn’t recommend twirling around the whole stage in heels,” he said, with a grimace.
Nivy brought me an ice pack and Aryan fussed over my ankle until the swelling went down. Meanwhile, Munshi Ji conjured up a brand new elasto-crepe bandage, and Dr Clueless wrapped it around my ankle.
“I’ll write you a prescription for some painkillers, but please stay off the ankle until it heals, Jessie,” he said, brow wrinkling in concern.
I nodded because I wasn’t too cut up over the prospect of not getting to prance around the stage with Yash. Especially not onthatsong.
“Fine,” I muttered, slipping off my other shoe and trying to stand on one foot.
Aryan looked at me in confusion.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to get to my room.”
“Were you planning to crawl up the stairs, Your Fluffy-headedness?”
“No, Dr Clueless. There are these useful things called bannisters. I thought I could hold on to them as I hopped up the stairs,” I snapped.
Before Aryan could explode, Nivy broke in hastily.
“Aryan can carry you upstairs,” she suggested.
“No way! If anyone needs to carry me upstairs, it should be Veer,” I argued.
“Oh, hell no! I’m not going to let him risk a slipped disc one week before our wedding,” she snapped.
Aryan and I both glared at her.
“Thank you for your concern for your poor brother’s spine,” he said drily.
“And how dare you call me fat?” I hissed.
“I didn’t! But I won’t let you mess with Veer’s back before our wedding, Jess. I have plans for the man,” she wailed.
