Hours passed, but it felt like days to Advait. He remained in the sterile waiting room, the cold metal chairs creaking beneath him as he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. He hadn’t been able to sit for long; the anxiety was too much, his mind racing through every possibility. What if she didn’t make it? What if he never got the chance to apologize, to make everything right between them? The thought was suffocating.

The door to the operating room remained closed, and the muffled sounds of medical staff moving swiftly behind it only added to his already strained nerves. He ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders unbearable.

The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional ringing of a phone or the distant hum of hospital machinery. Advait had lost track of time. All that mattered now was Samaira. She had become the sole focus of his existence, and the moment he had feared for so long—losing her—had come crashing down on him in the most unexpected way.

The hours dragged on, and it was only when Rajveer arrived, his face etched with worry, that Advait finally allowed himself to take a breath. His eyes immediately sought out Rajveer’s, desperate for any sign of hope. Rajveer walked toward him, the sound of his footsteps heavy with the weight of the situation.

Without a word, Advait stood up. There were no pleasantries between them—no attempt to hide the distress that was written all over his face. Rajveer’s expression softened, his eyes full of empathy as he approached.

“Any word?” Rajveer asked quietly, his voice low, almost hesitant, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile atmosphere.

Advait shook his head, his throat tight with emotion. “No. Nothing.”

Rajveer let out a long breath, taking a seat next to Advait. He placed a hand on Advait’s shoulder, an unspoken gesture of solidarity. The older man had been through his own share of turmoil, but even he didn’t have the words to offer comfort in this moment.

“I know you care for her,” Rajveer said, his voice breaking the silence. “I can see it. She’s tough, Advait. Samaira will pull through this. She has to.”

Advait nodded, but the uncertainty in his eyes betrayed his resolve. He couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, least of all whether Samaira would wake up or if their relationship would ever be the same again. The mistakes he had made, the secrets he had kept—all of it had led them to this point. And now, it was too late to go back.

The door to the operating room finally opened, and Advait’s heart skipped a beat. He stood up abruptly, his gaze locking with the doctor who walked out. The sterile, emotionless look on the doctor’s face did nothing to ease his fears. Rajveer stood by his side, sensing the tension in the air.

The doctor approached them, a clipboard in hand. Advait didn’t wait for the man to speak; he spoke first, his voice hoarse and filled with urgency.

“How is she?” Advait demanded, stepping forward, his eyes wide with desperation.

The doctor gave him a calm, but distant, look. “She’s stable for now. The surgery went well, but she’s in a deep state of unconsciousness. She’s not out of danger yet. We’ll have to monitor her for the next twenty-four hours, but she’s made it through the critical phase.”

Advait let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He could feel the weight lifting off his chest, but the fear still lingered. He glanced at Rajveer, who gave him a reassuring nod.

“She’s alive, Advait,” Rajveer said quietly, squeezing his shoulder. “That’s all that matters right now. You have to believe that.”

“I know,” Advait murmured, his voice thick. “But she was hurt. And it’s all because of me.”

Rajveer didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked over to the doctor, his steps measured and deliberate. He spoke to him for a few moments, and Advait didn’t pay attention to the specifics, his mind still focused on Samaira.

His heart ached as he thought of the woman he loved—so strong, so full of life, and now lying unconscious in a hospital bed. He had been the one to drive her to this point. He had made the decision to keep her in the dark about everything, thinking it would keep her safe. But now, all he had was regret.

When Rajveer returned, he gave Advait a stern look. “She’s out of surgery, but we need to give her time. They’ll move her to a recovery room soon. You can stay with her then.”

Advait nodded, barely able to keep his emotions in check. “Thank you, Uncle. I—I don’t know what to say.”

Rajveer sighed, his eyes softening as he met Advait’s gaze. “There’s nothing to say. You’ve already done enough by bringing her here. Now, you just need to be there for her. And you need to keep fighting—for her, for both of you.”

Advait’s throat tightened again. Fighting. How could he fight when the woman he loved might never forgive him for the things he’d done? For the things he hadn’t done?

He stared at the door to the recovery room as the minutes ticked by. He had never felt so helpless in his life. The uncertainty of it all gnawed at him, but he knew that there was one thing he had to do. He had to be there for Samaira when she woke up. He had to be the person she needed, even if he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to make it through himself.

Advait stood up, turning to face Rajveer once more. “I’m going to stay by her side. Whatever happens, I’m not leaving.”

Rajveer gave him a small smile, nodding in approval. “That’s all she needs, Advait. Don’t doubt yourself. Just stay with her. That’s what matters most.”

Advait swallowed hard, his hand resting on the door to the recovery room. As he pushed it open and stepped inside, his eyes landed on Samaira, lying so still in the bed, surrounded by medical equipment. A wave of guilt crashed over him, but he couldn’t show it. Not now.

He needed her to wake up. He needed her to know that he was here. He would never leave her side again.

And as he sat by her bedside, watching her sleep, he vowed to do whatever it took to earn her forgiveness.