🌸𝔇𝔬𝔠𝔱𝔬𝔯 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢🌸 (Completed )

Chapter -29 Echoes of Solitude

Adishh pov

It had been a month since Adhya moved to her PG. Although I saw her daily, I missed having her around me constantly. The idea of marriage started to occupy my thoughts, especially with the Kiran case nearing its resolution. It might sound selfish, but love has a way of turning into an obsession, and I found myself increasingly consumed by the thought of making Adhya mine forever.

Amid these reflections, I was deep into drafting my thesis paper when my phone rang, pulling me from my reverie. It was Trishul, but his words sent a jolt of panic through me.

"Adi, come quickly. Kiran's vitals are dropping fast. We need to operate him, ASAP," he said before hanging up.

Without a second's hesitation, I grabbed my apron from the back of my chair and bolted out of my hospital dormitory, my heart pounding and thoughts racing as I sprinted towards the operation theater.

All I could think about was saving Kiran at any cost. I was determined to fight as hard as he was fighting for his life; I couldn't give up on him at this crucial juncture. Initially, I had viewed this case as a career milestone, an opportunity to prove my skills. But now, it had become something more-emotionally charged and deeply personal.

As I approached the OR, the whirring of machines and the focused hum of doctors working feverishly to keep the patient alive filled the air. Trishul, standing at the end of the operating table, wore a grave expression. I stepped into the room, quickly donning a mask and operating gloves in a practiced, silent ritual.

The next two hours transformed the OR into a battlefield. Despite our efforts, it became painfully clear that Kiran was slipping away. It felt as though he harbored a death wish, stubbornly clinging to life against all odds. For me, the battle seemed increasingly futile, weighed down by a heavy guilt; this case was under my charge, and I felt a profound sense of failure, as if I had let him down in the most tragic manner.

"Dr. Adishh, we can't save him," Trishul's voice cut through the tense silence, heavy with resignation.

"No! We must keep fighting!" I found myself yelling back, my refusal to accept defeat fueling a desperate determination. I was adamant about saving Kiran, desperate to be the one to pull him back from the brink.

"Dr. Adishh, it's time to let him go," Trishul insisted, his voice firmer this time. My knees buckled as he declared the time of death. Kiran was gone, succumbing to his condition. Amidst the sorrow, there was a bitter form of relief; I had endured another encounter with death, though this one had nearly overwhelmed me. It was a confrontation I dreaded, yet knew I would face time and again.

The OR fell into a haunting silence, the bustling activity ceasing as Kiran's fight ended. Overwhelmed, I stumbled out of the OR, dreading the confrontation that awaited me-informing Kiran's parents of his demise.

Removing the blood-stained mask from my face, I faced Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava. "Mr. Srivastava, I'm so sorry," I managed to say, exhaustion evident in my voice.

"Dr. Adishh, please, tell us there's hope for Kiran," Mr. Srivastava pleaded, his voice laced with a fading hope.

The weight of their expectation was crushing. Having already lost a friend, the thought of going through that pain again was unbearable. Drained, I barely kept upright until I caught sight of Adhya in the corner. Seeking a moment of solace, I knelt down, hiding my face in my hands. Then, stripping off my blood-soaked scrubs and discarding them, I made my way to my office, seeking refuge. Barely had I reached it when a knock on the door echoed, pulling me back to reality. And it was Adhya.

I locked the door from the inside and collapsed into my chair, taking deep, steadying breaths to calm the storm within me. I allowed myself a moment to regain my composure before approaching her. Wrapping my arms around her, I felt her head rest on my shoulder, her body trembling. Adhya was tense, both for me and because of the situation at hand.

"Adi, think like a doctor. He was your patient; it's always a battle between life and death. Doctors aren't gods; they can't save everyone beyond their fate," she whispered, trying to offer consolation.

"Lecturing is easy," I retorted, my voice laced with a mix of frustration and sorrow. "Have you ever faced someone's death, seen their struggle for life firsthand? No, right? I have." As I spoke, my grip on her shoulders tightened unconsciously.

"Adi, it's hurting, please," Adhya winced, her words laced with pain.

Realizing my grip had become too firm, I immediately loosened my hold, my action unintentional. "I'm sorry," I murmured, the reality of my physical reaction mingling with the emotional turmoil inside me.

"You don't have to apologize. You have a lot on your plate. I'll be here when you need to talk, I promise," she said, her palm gently resting against the side of my face. In that fleeting moment, her touch offered solace and a fleeting sense of safety amidst the chaos.

However, our moment of respite was short-lived as the doorknob turned, signaling Trishul's arrival. Stepping in front of Adhya, I faced him as he delivered the news about the Srivastavas' presence, his expression marked by concern.

"I'll join them shortly, but could you please assist me first?" I requested, desperation evident in my tone. Trishul nodded in understanding.

As I made my way to Dr. Rajesh office, where I met kiran parents and explained about all other procedure and made my way to my office, Adhya's image lingered in my mind. The emotional whirlwind of the past hour left me ill-prepared to face Kiran's grieving parents. With conflicting emotions and thoughts racing through my mind, I took a moment to collect myself before confronting them.

Leaning against the sink, I found myself staring blankly at the ceiling, attempting to process the tumultuous events of the day. Yet, despite my efforts, an overwhelming sense of foreboding lingered, as if signaling the onset of a dark, stormy season.

We're all born with a spark of creativity within us, capable of creating something beautiful out of nothing. However, many lack this spark, rendering them unable to recognize it in others. Yet, in my work, I found a place where I could truly be myself, where my creativity flourished freely. I was driven by a desire to make a difference, to leave my mark on the world, and to save as many lives as possible. However, Kiran's death had shattered my inner peace more profoundly than I cared to admit.

Engrossed in work late into the night, I was interrupted by Trishul's call, his voice heavy with tension. "Adi, I just spoke to the Srivastavas. It was heartbreaking," he reported solemnly.

"I can only imagine," I responded sympathetically, feeling drained by the day's emotional toll. "I'll reach out if I need assistance."

After hanging up, I retreated to the bathroom to wash my face and take some painkillers, my hands trembling with exhaustion. With no desire to return home, I opted to stay in the hospital dormitory, seeking solace in solitude.

In the aftermath of that day, I distanced myself from Adhya for about two weeks, needing space to process my emotions. Fortunately, she understood and respected my need for solitude during that time.

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