𝐀 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞.
Vivian Rae has only a year to live. Instead of spending his remaining time with the woman he swore to love until his last breath, he makes an unexpected request: he asks his doctor to be his f...
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The world around me felt muted, as if someone had taken all the color, the life, and drained it away.
I stood there in the middle of the hospital corridor, drenched in Amara's blood.
The warmth of her presence, her smile, her voice-it was all gone, leaving behind a cold, hollow ache that consumed me from the inside out.
The authorities had torn her from my arms, their words a dull, distant hum. They said it was an open fire, some gangster's daughter who had died during surgery. I didn't care. I didn't want to hear any more. All I could think was why her?
Why did she have to suffer when she was the purest, most innocent soul I'd ever known?
My legs felt heavy, like they were sinking into the ground with every step I took. I was heading out of the hospital, alive, but I felt like a walking corpse. There was no purpose, no reason.
I wanted to die or kill something, anything, just to make the pain stop. The frustration was suffocating.
Why her?
The question gnawed at my insides, relentless and cruel.
"Vivian!" A familiar voice called out, and I looked up to see Vani rushing toward me, her dress soaked in blood-just like mine. I could barely muster the energy to care.
"Agastya- he took the shot for me," she choked out, breaking down in tears.
I stared at her blankly, my mind too foggy to process anything.
"Oh." That was all I could say, the word slipping out like a whisper. There was nothing else left in me.
"It was my fault. I should not have come to see you, " she cried, her voice thick with guilt.
But I just stood there, silent and empty. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even feel the sting of her words.
The police began clearing the scene, urging us to leave the hospital. The chaos around us slowly dissipated until it was just the two of us-me and Vani. The way I had always thought I wanted it to be.
But now, standing next to her, all I felt was disgust. Not just for her, but for myself. It was like there was a deep, gnawing sickness inside me that I couldn't escape. I didn't want to see her, touch her, or even be near her anymore.
It was strange, this sudden shift in my heart. It wasn't just the loss of Amara-it was the realization that everything I thought I wanted was wrong.
I pulled out a cigarette, lit it with shaky hands. Vani didn't say anything. She just stood there, a broken shell of the girl I once knew. As we reached the hospital entrance, the air outside felt thick and oppressive, like even the night was mourning the loss.
"Bye then," she said, her voice barely audible.
I didn't even acknowledge her. I just turned my back and walked away, taking a right as she turned left. I didn't look back. I didn't want to.
All I could do was keep walking, tears flooding my eyes, the memories of my love, my true love, replaying in my mind.
Amara.
It should have always been her. It would always be her- Amara Dua.
I kept walking, not sure where I was going, only that I needed to keep moving. Each step was heavy, each breath a reminder of what I'd lost. The tears blurred my vision, but I didn't bother wiping them away. They were all I had left now-my tears and the hollow ache that would never heal.
In the darkness of that night, I knew one thing for certain: the pain of losing her was something I would carry with me until my dying breath. I had defeated death, but death had taken the one person who made life worth living. It was a cruel, bitter irony, one I would never forgive.
And so I walked, alone in the night, her name on my lips, her memory etched into my soul. My love, my Amara- always.
It should have always been her. It would always be her- Amara Dua.
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AUTHOR 'S NOTE: It ended, how it began. Thank you so much for staying.
