WINNER OF HEART♡

◇Part 1◇

                      Ramin's Pov:

All I desire is a heart full of peace. I groaned, questioning the meaning of life: Is it just about waking up, drinking, and surviving? I despised the routine that had become my life. Lying in bed, scrolling through my phone, I muttered to myself, "These people will never leave me alone. Do they think they can get my attention? Delusional." I turned off the phone, trying to find sleep. "Ramin, it's 3 AM. When will you ever sleep peacefully?" I whispered to myself. Finally, sleep came at 8 AM. This has become my daily routine, and I’m utterly exhausted by it; life feels like it’s draining me.

It was just another typical day at the office. The eyes of all the women were on me as I passed by them, smirking and muttering under my breath, "Pathetic." But then, my attention was drawn to someone unexpected—a woman dressed in black, with a white coat draped over her shoulders and a stethoscope around her neck. Only her face and hands were visible.

"Who is Ramin here?" she asked, her voice cutting through the noise.

Clearing my throat, I responded, "I am Ramin." She looked at me and said, "Your father is calling for you."

I followed her to my father's room, and as soon as I saw him lying on the sofa with his eyes closed, my heart skipped a beat. Rushing to his side, I knelt beside him and asked, "Dad, what happened?"

He caressed my cheek and said softly, "My dear son, your father's heart is weak."

I held his hand, kissed it, and reassured him, "You are my brave father. Don't lose hope."

"Ramin," he continued, "the doctor says I need to be admitted for treatment." I glanced at the doctor, and she gave me a reassuring nod. "But, Dad..." I began, but he interrupted, "Don't worry, everything will be fine. I have the best doctor."

I looked back at her and saw the gentle smile on her face. For the first time in years, I felt at peace. Her eyes were shining, and there was a sense of relief on her face. She was mesmerizing, even though she was covered up. There was something heavenly about her, though I’ve never believed in such things.

She cleared her throat, bringing me back to reality. Turning to my father, I asked, "When will you need to be admitted?"

"Today," he replied.

"Dad, I’ll visit you every day," I promised. He smiled at me. I stood up and said, "Take care of yourself, Dad. I'm here if you need anything." He hummed in response.

Approaching her, I asked for her name. "Janan Ahmed," she replied. Smiling slightly, I said, "Miss Janan, I’ll pay you handsomely. Just save my dad." She chuckled, "Mr Ramin, I’m just a means. Only Allah can save him, and I’m not interested in your money." Her voice was filled with confidence. I forced a smile and said, "I don’t believe in God." She replied calmly, "That’s your problem, not mine."

I laughed sarcastically and said, "You’re the first woman who’s had the courage to speak to me like this."

"How pathetic you are," she remarked.

I clenched my jaw, warning her to stay within her limits. "May Allah guide you, Mr Moron," she said before leaving the room.

I groaned in frustration, "How dare she show such attitude." But as I closed my eyes, her smile lingered in my mind. Her beautiful smile. "She’s full of sass," I chuckled, "Oh Janan, what is this feeling? I’ve never felt like this before. What have you done to me, Miss Janan?"

Later, after two exhausting hours of work, it was time to take my dad to the hospital. I went to his room and asked if I could come in. "Yes," he said. I entered, "Dad, we need to leave now," and he hummed in response. Helping him up, we went to the car, and I drove to the hospital. Upon arriving, I felt a strange sensation—my heart was racing. We entered the hospital, and while speaking to the receptionist, my heartbeat quickened even more.