Irreversible

⚜♚43. Shot ♚⚜

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Thank you guys for smashing the challenge! At the time of writing this chapter, it is 500 🎉🥳 comments! And because of this, I'm writing this chapter today, even though I intended to write it tomorrow.

Shall we make this challenge applicable to all future chapters? 😁

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Rohaan

In the past twenty-four hours, I'd hurt Yamna (unintentionally) on an unbelievable level.

But this was the icing on a very tragic cake: seeing my wife lying in her own blood, sobbing in pain.

I fell down onto my knees, hard enough to send pain shooting through my legs, but I didn't give a f**k. Only Yamna mattered.

"Rohaan..." Her gaze found me, and she sobbed again. "It hurts."

I was tempted to hold her in my arms, but I resisted. I had no idea where the injury was, and I didn't want to make it worse. A crowd of onlookers gathered around us, some filming, some taking photos.

"F**k off with your photos and videos and call the f**king ambulance!" I shouted.

"We have already called them, sir." One of the guards told me. "I've also called Mr Farhaan." The staff here was well aware that I was the brother of Hooriya Farhaan, the co-owner of this hotel.

I took Yamna's dupatta and placed it lightly over her. "I know it hurts, my love, but just hang on, okay? The ambulance will be here soon."

"W-will I die?" She whispered out.

"In Sha Allah, you'll be okay." I reassured her as I tried to examine her wound. Based on my career experience, if I had to guess, the bullet had just grazed her on the arm. But it was only a guess for now. I took her hand in mine, her hand was icy cold. "You'll be okay, sweetheart. In Sha Allah." My vision blurred. Seeing the state of my wife had rendered me into tears.

She squeezed my hand. "Don't worry. I'm fine." Her gaze was fixed on my face.

She was lying in her own blood, and she was reassuring me.

"You better be, Yamna." I feigned a strict tone.

Her eyes drifted shut slowly, and my heart pounded harder with fear.

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The ride to the hospital in the ambulance was one of the hardest experiences of my life. I've seen so much s**t in my career, but nothing compared to what I had witnessed today because the victim today owned my heart completely.

The female paramedic had to cut off the sleeve of Yamna's kameez with scissors in the ambulance to examine the wound, and she confirmed my suspicions. The bullet had just grazed Yamna's arm, thankfully.

My phone rang. Farhaan Bhai was calling me. "Assalam Alaikum, Farhaan Bhai."

"Walaikum Assalam! I'm on the way with Hoor. Are you going to St Mary's Hospital?" He sounded concerned, and the phone seemed to be on speaker.