❣️ɪsʜǫ-𝒆-ɪʙᴀᴅᴀᴛ❣️| On Hold

(44.)

The sterile scent of antiseptic hung heavily in the air, mingling with the quiet hum of medical machinery and the occasional murmur of hushed conversations. Sana sat in the dimly lit waiting area just outside the intensive care unit, her hands clasped tightly together, fingers interlocked in a desperate plea. Her eyes, red and swollen from hours of crying, stared blankly at the double doors that separated her from Sidharth, who lay within the cold confines of the ICU, fighting for his life. The white walls around her seemed to close in, amplifying the silence and her growing sense of helplessness. Each tick of the clock on the wall sounded like a thunderous drumbeat, marking the passage of time that felt both agonizingly slow and terrifyingly rapid.

Sana's mind was a storm of worries and memories, crashing over her in relentless waves. She thought about the first time she and Sidharth met, the way his eyes had sparkled with mischief and kindness. She recalled their long conversations, their shared dreams of a future together, and the plans they had meticulously laid out. All of it now seemed so fragile, hanging by the thinnest of threads. Her thoughts spiralled into the dark what-ifs: What if he doesn't make it? What if their plans remain forever unfulfilled? The mere idea of a future without Sidharth was a chasm of emptiness that she could not bear to contemplate. She clung to the memory of his laughter, the warmth of his touch, and the way he had promised her that they would always be together.

Every time a nurse or doctor walked through those double doors, Sana's heart would leap into her throat, her breath catching in a moment of hopeful anticipation followed by crushing disappointment when they walked past her without a word. She had been briefed on his condition multiple times, yet the medical jargon provided little comfort. The words "critical but stable" were a cold, clinical description that failed to encapsulate the gravity of her emotions. She wished she could do more, be more, but all she could do was wait. And pray. Her whispered prayers were a mix of desperation and faith, beseeching every deity she had ever known to spare Sidharth, to bring him back to her.

The other people in the waiting room seemed distant, their lives and concerns muted shadows compared to the glaring intensity of her own. Some were there for routine check-ups, others awaiting news of loved ones in less dire circumstances. But for Sana, the world outside those hospital walls had ceased to exist. Her entire universe was contained in that small, uncomfortable chair, her focus unwaveringly on the man she loved more than life itself. She longed for the touch of his hand, the reassurance of his voice, the simple comfort of his presence. The memories of their last conversation replayed in her mind, each word now precious and poignant. She regretted every moment they had spent apart, every petty argument that seemed so insignificant now.

The minutes dragged on, each one an eternity. She watched the sun slowly sink beyond the horizon through the large window at the end of the hall, its dying light casting long shadows across the sterile floor. With the encroaching darkness, her fears grew more pronounced. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically, but sleep was an impossibility. Her mind was a relentless reel of fears and hopes, of love and loss. She imagined holding his hand as they faced life's challenges, side by side, as they had always promised each other they would.

As the night deepened, her prayers became more fervent, her resolve harder. She would not give up on him. She could not. With every ounce of strength she had left, she sent out her silent pleas into the universe, hoping, praying that somewhere, somehow, they would be heard, and Sidharth would be returned to her, whole and healthy. She had to believe in miracles because, right now, belief was all she had left.

Rita and the other family members were quite worried seeing Shehnaaz sitting numb ever since she got to know about Sidharth. They were equally worried for her if not more. They tried to convince her to eat, have medicine and get some sleep the whole while but she payed ear to none. But they did manage to give her medicine by using Sidharth's name as leverage. Still seeing her exhausted face, they were worried she would collapse before Sidharth wakes up.