Riddhima's pov :

When we reached the hospital, he was already in the emergency unit. Doctors were examining him, and we weren't allowed to go inside. All we could do was wait outside, anxiety gnawing at every one of us.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctors finally came out. Baba immediately stepped forward, and the rest of us followed closely behind.

One of the doctors, who knew Baba, spoke, "Mr. and Mrs. Raisinghania, your son is fine. He hit the right side of his head, hand, and leg, but the injuries are not serious."

We all exhaled in relief at his words. Baba placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder as if to calm the storm inside me.

The doctor continued, "After running X-rays and other tests, we discovered that his right hand is fractured, and his right leg has multiple scratches and is swollen. Fortunately, there are no internal injuries. However, he is heavily intoxicated, which likely contributed to the accident. His alcohol levels were dangerously high."

I froze at the mention of alcohol, my heart sinking. I couldn't help but feel guilty, knowing that his pain and anger had driven him to this state.

"Will he be okay?" Baba asked, his voice laced with concern.

The doctor nodded. "He'll need rest and care. We'll keep him under observation for the night to ensure there are no complications. But overall, he's out of danger."

Papa asked, "When can we expect him to regain consciousness?"

The doctor replied, "If he weren't intoxicated, he would likely regain consciousness in 5-6 hours. However, given his current condition, it's hard to say. It might take around 17-18 hours."

Hearing that, everyone's expressions grew more solemn. The thought of waiting that long to see him awake, knowing the pain he was in, was unbearable.

Maa, unable to hold back her emotions any longer, sat down and buried her face in her hands, silently crying. Mumma placed a comforting arm around her, whispering reassurances.

I, too, felt my chest tighten with guilt and worry. This was all because of me. If only I had handled things differently, maybe he wouldn't be lying in that hospital bed right now.

"We'll take good care of him," the doctor said as he turned to leave but suddenly stopped. Turning back toward us, he added, "And who is Riddhima? When he was brought here, he was continuously chanting her name."

With that, the doctor walked away, leaving us to process the information.

Hearing his words, I felt my knees buckle as I clutched my heart, sobbing uncontrollably. The guilt and pain were unbearable. Despite everything, despite the anger, betrayal, and misunderstanding, his thoughts were still filled with me.

"Riddhima, get a hold of yourself," Papa said, placing a firm hand on my shoulder, though his own voice trembled.

But I couldn't stop. His name on the doctor's lips, the thought of him calling out to me in his worst moments, made my heart ache like never before.

Maa knelt beside me, gently wiping my tears. "Beta, this isn't the time to break down. Vansh needs you to be strong. When he wakes up, he'll want to see you standing by his side, not like this."

Her words brought a small measure of strength to my shattered heart. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I wiped my tears.

"I'll be strong for him, Maa. I'll wait for him to open his eyes, and when he does, I'll make everything right," I said, my voice trembling but resolute.

With that, I stood up and walked toward his room, my steps heavy with the weight of my emotions. I sat beside the glass window of the ICU, watching him lying there, so still and vulnerable.

"Vansh," I whispered softly, my fingers lightly touching the glass, "I'll fix everything. Just wake up. Please wake up."

I stood there, staring at the door of the room, wishing I could turn back time. I knew I had to stay strong for him, but my heart was shattering into a million pieces.

"I'll stay here with him," I said firmly, breaking the silence. "I won't leave his side until he wakes up."

Papa nodded, understanding the determination in my voice. "We'll arrange everything. Just let us know if you need anything."

I stayed silent as we made arrangements for him to be moved to a private room. My mind was consumed with thoughts of how to make things right, how to fix what had been shattered between us.

As I sat down near his room, staring at the lifeless monitor showing his vitals, I made a silent promise.

When Vansh opens his eyes, I'll make him understand everything. I'll fix this—no matter what it takes.

Vansh's pov :

My eyes remained closed, surrounded by nothing but darkness. Slowly, I forced them open, blinking against the harsh light. I found myself staring at the ceiling, its white, sterile surface unfamiliar yet oddly comforting.

I tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through my body, forcing a groan from my lips. My muscles felt like they were on fire, my head throbbing relentlessly. I glanced down at my right hand, now encased in a cast, its weight a constant reminder of the accident.

Turning to my left, I noticed her—Riddhima. Her head was resting near my hand, her eyes closed, holding onto me like I was her lifeline.

"Where... am I?" I murmured, my voice raspy and weak.

The antiseptic smell and the faint beeping of monitors around me told me where I was before I even got an answer.

Hearing my voice, she stirred, her head snapping up. Her face looked drained, her eyes red and swollen from crying. The moment our eyes met, a flicker of relief and guilt crossed her face.

"You're awake," she whispered, her voice trembling. Even though it was painful, I still snatched my hand away from hers.

I wanted to respond, but my exhaustion and the weight of everything held me back. I just stared at her, my emotions swirling like a storm inside me.

She inched closer, tears streaming down her face. "Vansh, I... I'm so sorry. Please -"

"Stop," I croaked, cutting her off, my voice raw but resolute. "Don't... I don't want to hear anything from you."

Her lip quivered, but she didn't move. "Vansh, I—"

"I don't want to see your face," I interrupted, my voice rising despite the pain. "Just leave."

She flinched at my words, her tears flowing harder. She tried to speak, but I didn't let her.

"Leave!" I shouted, the strain making my head pound even more.

For a moment, she looked like she was about to argue, but then her shoulders slumped, and she nodded silently. Wiping her tears, she stood up, her hands trembling.

"I'll go," she whispered, her voice breaking. She hesitated for a second as if hoping I would stop her, but I didn't. Without another word, she turned and walked out, leaving me alone with the unbearable ache in my chest—an ache that no injury could rival.
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Vansh's pov

Riddhima was tirelessly taking care of me, both at the hospital and after we returned home. After I had kicked her out of the hospital room, I thought she'd leave me alone, but she didn't.

No matter how much I shouted, screamed, or pushed her away, she stayed. It was as if my words didn't reach her, or maybe she had decided not to listen. She remained unfazed, stubbornly standing by me, ensuring I had everything I needed.

At first, it infuriated me. How could she pretend everything was fine when I was drowning in anger and betrayal? Every time I saw her face, it was a reminder of what had happened, of the trust that had been shattered.

Yet, despite my coldness, she kept going. If I knocked the glass of water from her hand, she'd quietly fetch another. If I turned my face away when she spoke, she wouldn't stop talking, as if trying to find cracks in the walls I'd built around myself.

It was maddening and confusing. I wanted to hate her, to push her out of my life entirely, but her persistence made it impossible to ignore her completely.

One night, as she adjusted the blanket over me, I finally snapped. "Why are you doing this? Why don't you just leave me alone?"

Her hands stilled, and she looked at me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Because I care, Vansh. I can't leave you like this, no matter how much you push me away."

Her words struck a nerve, but I couldn't let her see it. I turned my head away, refusing to respond, yet her presence lingered, her unwavering determination chipping away at my resolve.

Each day, her actions spoke louder than her words ever could, and for the first time, I found myself questioning if maybe—just maybe—I had misunderstood her.
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I was watching a movie when I heard a knock at the door, followed by Baba's voice, "I'm coming in."

I didn't respond, but I didn't stop him either. Lately, I had been distant from my parents too. Anger and disappointment clouded my heart toward them as much as it did toward Riddhima. They had been a part of the whole situation, and while I wasn't outright ignoring them, I only answered them in monosyllables when necessary.

Baba stepped inside, his face a mixture of concern and hesitation. He looked at me for a moment, as if gauging my mood, before he walked closer and sat down on the edge of the couch.

"Vansh," he began, his voice calm but firm, "I know you're upset with us. And I understand why. But avoiding everyone and shutting yourself away isn't going to help."

I didn't reply, keeping my eyes glued to the screen.

He sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Riddhima has been taking care of you tirelessly. She's doing everything she can to make things right, even though she's clearly hurting too. Don't you think it's time to at least listen to her side of the story?"

I clenched my jaw, the movie playing in the background fading into white noise. "Baba, I don't want to talk about it. Not with you, not with her, not with anyone."

"And how long do you plan to carry this anger, Vansh?" he asked softly. "How long are you going to let it eat away at you?"

And again, he spat angrily, "And how long are you going to treat Riddhima as if she's a nobody and make her cry? You hurt her. Do you even realize how much you make her cry with your taunts and actions?"

I interrupted, turning to him with a sharp voice. "Don't defend her! I've seen everything with my own eyes. She deserves it for playing with me."

Before I could say anything more, I felt a sharp sting on my cheek. My father had slapped me. I stood there, stunned, unable to believe what had just happened. This was the first time he had ever raised his hand against me. My eyes moistened as I processed his actions.

"Enough, Vansh! Enough!" Baba shouted, his voice shaking with anger. "You've crossed every limit by disrespecting Riddhima. That child loves you and has been taking care of you selflessly. And what do you do? You hurt her! I've seen how much she cries because of you but hides it from everyone. Yet, you? You're selfish! You were so quick to believe that she could betray or cheat on you. How could you think so low of her?"

His words hit me like a hammer, each one heavier than the last.

"You never trusted her from the beginning," Baba said, his voice calm but firm. "The whole reason she was doing all of that was for Radhika. One of Radhika's in-laws noticed her and sent a marriage proposal to her. Your, Mumma, Papa, and Riddhima had already rejected the proposal because she didn't want anything to do with it. But her aunt was insistent that they at least meet the in-laws, so that Radhika's family wouldn't be offended or look down on her. The situation was complicated, and no one was really happy about it. When your mother and I found out, we suggested that they invite the in-laws over so they could meet and reject the proposal in person. Riddhima wasn't comfortable with this, but she was trying to do what she thought was best for Radhika. When she told me you wouldn't approve, I suggested she keep it from you for the time being. She wasn't convinced, though. She hated the idea of hiding the truth from you and planned on telling you everything when you came back, but I guess it was too late by then."

I stood there, frozen, trying to process everything Baba had just revealed. My mind raced, but my heart felt heavy with guilt. I had made assumptions, hurt Riddhima without even knowing the whole truth.

Baba continued, his voice calm but firm, "You've misunderstood her, Vansh. She was trying to protect Radhika, protect her family's dignity. And all along, she was trying to protect you too. But you, you let your anger and insecurities cloud your judgment."

I couldn't speak. The weight of his words crushed me. My father's voice, though stern, held a hint of sadness, as if he too felt the pain of seeing me make the wrong choices.

"She wanted to tell you the truth herself," Baba said, his voice heavy with regret. "But you made me break my promise to her. It was a hard decision, but maybe it was the reality check you needed."

I stood there, stunned, processing everything my father had just revealed. The weight of his words, of the truth that had been hidden from me, was too much to bear. I had hurt her so much, and for what? My own insecurity and anger had blinded me to her intentions, to her love.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" I finally whispered, my voice breaking. "Why did you let me hurt her like that?"

Baba's expression softened, a trace of regret crossing his face. "We did what we thought was best to protect both of you," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I promised her I wouldn't tell you the truth. You were so overwhelmed by your own pain and anger at the time, I knew it would only cause more harm than good. But now... now you know. And maybe this will help you understand what she was trying to protect you from."

I stood there, speechless, unable to comprehend how wrong I had been. The anger I had held onto for so long now felt like a distant memory. I could hardly believe it—Riddhima had been trying to protect me, not betray me.

I clenched my fists at my sides, feeling a deep sense of regret. How could I have misjudged her like that? How could I have allowed my insecurities to cloud my judgment?

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of everything he was saying. It was like the pieces of the puzzle were finally starting to fit together.

I took a deep breath, the guilt choking me. "I've ruined everything, haven't I?"

Baba shook his head, walking closer. "No, son. You still have a chance to make things right. But you need to face her, You owe her an apology, Not just for your actions, but for doubting her when she only had good intentions and show her that you understand. You can't undo the past, but you can shape the future."

I closed my eyes, the anger I had been holding onto slowly melting away, replaced by a deep regret. The pain I had caused her—it was unbearable to think about.

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Here's to loving myself a little extra today. Happiest Birthday to me!

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Till then Happy Reading......

Annyeong👋