Kismat Connection♡

Rudraksh

We never know how important that person is until we lose them or are on the verge of losing them. Samyuktha is that person for me. She barged into my life unknowingly, and now, the thought of losing her is something I refuse to think about, it's frightening. Something I have never felt until today.

From the moment she became a part of my world, she changed everything. Our marriage was far from a fairytale- it was forced, driven by circumstances rather than love. But as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I began to see a different side of her, a side that drew me in deeper than I ever thought possible. Her strength, her anger, her care, her quiet determination-they became the things I admired most.

Then a call came out of nowhere, shattering the stillness inside me. My heart raced as I heard the words, "Hello, sir, the owner of this phone has been in an accident, and we are currently taking her to the nearest hospital."

Time seemed to stop as the world around me blurred. I didn't wait to hear more. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but one thing was clear: I needed to be with her.

I rushed out of the building, not caring about the curious glances from the employees or the driver from whom I snatched the car keys and started driving. My only focus was on getting to the hospital, on seeing her, on holding her and making sure she was alright.

As I drove through the city, my thoughts were consumed with what ifs- what if I lose her? What if she is in pain and I am not there to comfort her? What if today was the last time I saw her smiling? Last time holding her? Last time comforting her? The relentless question echoed in my mind, each one terrifying the last time, tightening the grip of fear around my heart.

The hospital came into view, and I barely registered parking the car. My mind was a storm, filled with emotions I couldn't begin to understand. Fear? Yes, it was there, but something more tangled within it-a sense of dread, maybe guilt, maybe even something deeper that I couldn't quite name. All I knew was that I had to find her. I needed to see her, to know she was still there, still breathing.

I rushed through the entrance, and my usually calm demeanor shattered, replaced by a frantic urgency that I couldn't control. "Where is she? Samyuktha Agnihotri, where is she?" My voice was shaky, barely holding together, like everything inside me was about to spill out.

"She's in room no. 205," the nurse replied quickly, sensing the desperation in my voice. I barely heard her, my thoughts a chaotic mess as I followed the ward boy toward her room.

Every step felt like I was walking on shattered glass, the guilt cutting deeper with each stride. Why didn't I insist she take the car? Why did I let her ride that damn scooty? The questions circled in my mind, each one more painful than the last, but none of them had answers that could change what had already happened.

When I reached the door, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the handle. A part of me didn't want to open it, didn't want to face whatever was inside, but I had to. I pushed it open.

The room was small, and the dim light did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. The steady beep of the monitor filled the silence, each sound echoing in my ears like a reminder of everything that had gone wrong. My eyes landed on her, and the sight nearly brought me to my knees.

Samyuktha lay there, her face pale and bruised, her right arm in a thick cast. Bandages covered her forehead and some minor cuts and scrapes. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, each one a small relief but also a painful reminder of her fragility.

I stepped closer, my legs heavy, my mind reeling with emotions I couldn't name. It wasn't just fear or guilt; it was something more-a deep, gnawing ache that twisted in my gut, a sense of helplessness that I wasn't used to feeling. I gently took her uninjured hand in mine, the coldness of her skin making something inside me break.