Dons of Punjab: Fluke of Reality✔️

Chapter 35

Prabhneet Kaur Aulakh

The hours dragged on as we sat in that small, dimly lit waiting room. The air was thick with tension, and exhaustion weighed heavily on our shoulders. It felt like we had been sitting there forever, our patience wearing thin with each passing minute. My father sighed, rubbing his tired eyes before turning to my sister and her husband.

"You both should go home," he said softly. "The little ones are exhausted. They need rest."

My sister, Gunu, hesitated, glancing at me with worried eyes. She didn't want to leave, but the cries of her young sons had become too much to bear. Their tiny faces were red with distress, and no amount of soothing seemed to calm them.

"Are you sure?" she asked, shifting one of her fussy boys in her arms.

"Yes," my father insisted, his voice firm but gentle. "You need to take care of them. We'll call you if anything happens."

After a moment, she nodded reluctantly. Her husband took their bags, and they left, her sons still sniffling softly as they disappeared down the hallway. The waiting room became quieter, but the weight in my chest remained.

Aman, my husband, stood up, stretching. "I'm going to get something to eat," he announced, looking at me. "Do you want anything?"

I shook my head. My stomach was in knots; food was the last thing on my mind. Aman hesitated for a moment, studying me carefully before sighing. "I'll be back soon."

When he left, the silence became heavier. My father sat beside me, his hands resting on his lap. After a long pause, he reached out and took my hands in his, his grip firm yet trembling.

"Prabh," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I need to apologize. I failed you and Gunu as a father. I made so many mistakes, and I was too blind to see how much I hurt both of you."

I looked at him, my chest tightening. My father had never been one to admit his faults easily. Seeing the regret in his eyes made my heart ache.

"Dad..." I whispered, squeezing his hands gently. "I forgive you. But... Gunu might not. What you did... trying to take her son away from her... it broke her."

His face crumbled, his eyes filled with guilt. He lowered his head, taking a shaky breath. "I know. And I will never forgive myself for it. I just... I thought I was doing the right thing. I see now how wrong I was."

I didn't know what to say. We sat there, lost in our own thoughts, until Aman returned. The sight of him brought me a sense of relief. He carried a small container of food, his expression filled with concern.

"You need to eat something, Prabh," he said gently, kneeling in front of me.

I shook my head. "I can't. I don't have the appetite."

Aman sighed, but instead of arguing, he picked up a spoonful of food and held it up to my lips. "Just a little, love. Please. You need your strength."

I hesitated, but the love and determination in his eyes made it impossible to refuse. Slowly, I parted my lips, allowing him to feed me. The warmth of the food spread through me, and for the first time that night, I felt a small sense of comfort. He continued feeding me, his movements careful and full of patience. I hadn't realized how much I needed him in that moment.

About an hour later, a nurse appeared and told us the doctor wanted to see us. My father seemed reluctant, but Aman and I stood up immediately, ready to hear whatever news awaited us.

As we entered the doctor's office, my heart pounded in my chest. The doctor, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, looked at us grimly.

"How is she, doctor?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.