WINNER OF HEART♡

◇part 21◇

After two days, Zahra and Janan found themselves enjoying a shopping spree together. As they sifted through racks of clothes and admired various accessories, Zahra dramatically plopped down onto a nearby chair. “Ahh, Jan, I am so tired,” she exclaimed, feigning exhaustion.

Janan, ever the playful friend, smacked her arm lightly. “Miss Zahra... oh wait, Mrs. Zahra! Get up NOW!” she ordered with a chuckle.

With a smile, Zahra rose to her feet, and they continued their shopping adventure. After a long day of browsing, Janan dropped Zahra off at home before heading to the hospital to check on Ramin.

Once inside her house, Zahra settled in front of the television, feeling a little lonely. “Everyone left me alone here, cruel people,” she pouted, hugging a cushion to her chest. Just then, the main door swung open, and a familiar voice called out, “Zahra, where are you, Chanda?”

Zahra’s heart leaped with joy. “Hadi!” she exclaimed, jumping up and racing towards the sound of his voice. He smiled brightly at her enthusiasm, throwing his bag onto the floor before opening his arms wide. Zahra jumped into his embrace, wrapping her legs around his torso and hugging him tightly.

He giggled, caressing her back gently. “My baby misses me this much, huh?” he teased, his heart swelling at the sight of her excitement.

She nodded, her sad pout tugging at his heartstrings. Hadi leaned in and kissed her lips softly. “Let me know how much my wife missed me,” he murmured.

In response, she playfully bit his lip and smacked his arms. “Put me down,” she insisted, but he shook his head, teasing her further.

“Nah, not this easily,” he replied with a grin.

Zahra glared at him playfully, and after a moment, he brushed his nose against hers before finally setting her down.

“I’ll get you some water,” she said, heading into the kitchen. She emerged moments later, glass in hand, but suddenly her vision blurred. “Hadi...” she whispered, and before she could react, she fainted.

“Hadi!” she called out weakly as she fell, but there was no time for him to respond. Hadi rushed to her side, ignoring the pain of the shattered glass that jabbed into his foot. He scooped her up in his arms, his heart racing with panic as he carried her to the car.

“Zahra, Chanda, open your eyes! Don’t scare your Hadi,” he pleaded, desperation clawing at his chest as he drove to the nearest hospital.

Upon arriving, Hadi leaped out, cradling Zahra in his arms, and hurried into the hospital, calling for a doctor. “Help! My wife needs help!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the sterile hallway.

While the doctor tended to Zahra, Hadi sat outside the examination room, tears streaming down his cheeks. He noticed the pain radiating from his foot, but the thought of his wife suffering eclipsed all else.

A nurse approached, concern etched on her face. “Mr. Hadi, your feet are bleeding. You need to get treatment,” she urged gently.

He sighed, shaking his head stubbornly. “I’ll take care of it after I know my wife is fine,” he replied, his voice trembling with emotion.

As he sat there, his lips quivered, and he whispered a heartfelt prayer. “Ya Allah, oh my beloved Allah, your servant is in pain, Ya Rab. Oh Allah, take my pain and give my happiness to her. She is the ray of light in my dark room, oh Allah. Take away everything from me, but please, don’t let anything happen to my Zahra. Help her, Ya Allah, help me.”

The doctor emerged from the examination room, and Hadi quickly rose to his feet, anxiety etched across his face. He rushed over to the doctor and asked, “What happened to my wife?”