They never met...

CHAPTER 12- FATE IS CRUEL

* flashback continues*

The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt like they were closing in on Jagjeet. The once vibrant dreams of a future with Mahima had been replaced by the dull ache of worry for his parents and the constant exhaustion of juggling their care. Days bled into nights, punctuated by the beeps of monitors and the hushed murmurs of doctors.

He'd managed a choked phone call to Mahima, the words tumbling out in a rush as he confessed his parents' accident. The silence on the other end had been deafening, then a quiet strength he hadn't expected. She didn't pry, just offered support in a way that warmed his heart even in the bleakness of the situation.

One afternoon, while his father slept, Jagjeet found himself staring at his phone, Mahima's number burning a hole in his pocket. He wanted to talk, to share the crushing weight of his anxieties, but the fear of burdening her held him back. He finally muttered the courage and called her..

"Jagjeet?" Mahima's voice, a welcome lifeline, cut through his internal battle. He picked up the call, his throat tight.

"Mahima," he croaked, the sound rough with unshed tears.

"How are things there?" she asked gently. The concern in her voice was a balm to his soul.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she prompted softly. She already knew that something must have happened that he didn't come , it was as if fate was stopping them from meeting each other

"I don't want to bother you with my problems," he mumbled, guilt gnawing at him.

"Don't be silly," she said, her voice firm but laced with affection. "Our problems aren't separate anymore, Jagjeet. They're ours."

The simple statement washed over him, a wave of clarity. He let out a shaky breath.

"Maa... she got paralyzed," he choked out, the words tumbling out in a torrent. He spoke of the doctors' prognosis, his father's despair, the crushing burden of responsibility that seemed to weigh him down.

Mahima listened patiently, her silence a comforting presence. When he finished, there was a beat of silence on the other end.

"Have you eaten?" she asked finally, her voice surprisingly calm.

He paused, surprised by the question. "No," he admitted, a pang of hunger suddenly gnawing at his stomach.

"Jagjeet," she said, her voice firm but gentle, "you need to take care of yourself. You can't fight this battle on an empty stomach."

He felt a surge of gratitude, a warmth that spread through him.

The Delivery and a Message

Thirty minutes later, a knock on the door startled him. A delivery man stood there, holding a neatly packed tiffin carrier. It smelled divine, a mix of his favorite dishes. Attached was a small note from Mahima.

The note- "I know it's hard right now, but you have to be strong, I am always there for you - as a friend, a shoulder to cry on, a support system, and a... lover. Don't worry, we'll fight this out together."

After reading the note he picked his phone to call mahima but instead he got a voice message from her

___ "you're welcome, now eat and sleep you need rest so don't try to call me for now , we'll talk in the morning...___