Ek villain

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝚾𝐕𝐈𝐈: 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝛐

Rocky was making some coffee for himself, and he remembered a memory of Reena. The memory played out like a scene from a cherished home movie. Reena, in her signature blue scrubs and a mask that couldn't quite hide the mischief in her eyes, was fumbling with a pair of oversized medical gloves. Rocky, ever the playful tease, stood by the doorway, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"Having trouble there, Doc?" he chuckled, his voice laced with amusement.

Reena, already frustrated with the stubborn gloves, shot him a playful glare. "These things are like trying to wrestle an octopus, Rocky! How do you even wear them?"

Rocky sauntered over, his movements exaggerated with mock seriousness. "Allow me, Dr. Clumsy," he declared, his voice dripping with theatricality.

He gently took a glove from her hand, his fingers brushing hers in the process. A spark of warmth crackled between them, a silent language understood only by their hearts. With practiced ease, Rocky slipped the gloves on, his large hands dwarfing the medical supplies.

"See, Doc," he said, holding his gloved hands up in mock triumph. "It's all about technique."

Reena couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing through the sterile room. It was a sound Rocky cherished, a melody that could chase away any darkness.

"Oh, really?" she countered, a playful glint in her eyes. "Then show me your technique for making coffee that doesn't taste like burnt tires."

Rocky's grin faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, a playful jab aimed at Reena's own culinary shortcomings. "Touché, Doc," he conceded, raising his gloved hands in mock surrender.

The memory faded, leaving behind a bittersweet ache in Rocky's heart. It was a testament to the simple joys they had shared, the laughter that had filled their life together. He tightened his grip on Reena's hand, his silent plea echoing in the quiet room.

"Come back to me, Doc," he whispered. "We have more memories to make, more coffee to burn together."

________________________________________________________________________________

The hospital corridor echoed with the hurried footsteps of doctors and nurses, their faces drawn with the weight of impending decisions. Rocky stood outside Reena's room, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he listened to the muted voices drifting through the door. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of fear and desperation as he waited for news of his wife's condition.

When the door finally swung open, Rocky's gaze shot to the figure emerging from within—a doctor, his expression grave as he approached with measured steps.

"Mr. Bairya" the doctor began, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm afraid there's been no improvement in Reena's condition. In fact, it's worsened. We've exhausted all treatment options, and her vital signs continue to decline."

Rocky's breath caught in his throat, a wave of anguish crashing over him as the weight of the doctor's words settled in his chest. He staggered backward, his mind reeling with disbelief and despair.

"No... No, that can't be," Rocky protested, his voice trembling with emotion. "You have to do something. You can't just give up on her."

The doctor's expression softened with sympathy, but his words remained firm. "I understand your frustration, Mr. Bairya, but we've reached the limits of medical intervention. Reena's organs are failing, and she's dependent on life support to sustain her. Continuing treatment would only prolong her suffering."