the boundary

Accident

Shubman's foot tapped against the tiled floor as he sat alone in the café. The minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow, and with each passing second, his thoughts spiraled. The weight of the upcoming conversation had his heart thudding in his chest. He looked at his watch again, willing Ishan to walk through the doors. And then, finally, he saw him.

Ishan walked into the café, his face a mixture of uncertainty and determination, like he had gathered all his courage for this meeting. Shubman's heart lifted momentarily, feeling ready to face whatever was coming. But before Ishan could even say a word, his phone rang. Frowning, Ishan glanced at the screen and answered.

"Hello? Swami?" Ishan said, his voice tense.

There was a long silence as he listened, his face going pale. Shubman leaned in, sensing something was wrong. Ishan's hand was gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles were white.

"What? When? How—" Ishan's voice shook as he took in the news. "Which hospital? Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can."

He hung up, his face a mixture of shock and fear. "Shubman..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Aditi...she's been in a car accident. She's in the hospital, and I need to go. I have to—"

Ishan's eyes were wide and unfocused, already a million miles away. Shubman didn't hesitate. "I'm coming with you."

Together, they rushed out of the café, flagging down a cab and speeding toward the hospital. The drive was a blur. Ishan was visibly shaken, his knee bouncing as he stared out the window, mind racing. Shubman kept glancing over, wanting to reach out, to tell him it would be okay, but he didn't know what Ishan needed. Instead, he settled for simply being there.

When they reached the hospital, Ishan barely waited for the cab to stop before he jumped out and rushed inside. Shubman followed, a step behind, as they approached the front desk.

"Aditi Hundia," Ishan said, breathlessly. "Where is she?"

The receptionist checked her computer and gave them the room number. They found her in the emergency ward, and a doctor soon appeared to brief them.

"She's stable," the doctor assured them, "but we'll need to keep her under observation for a while. She is lucky the airbags opened immediately when the other car collided with her. There's been some head trauma, but we're monitoring her closely. The police were informed and they already left  after taking the other driver in custody"

The news brought a slight relief to Ishan's tense features, though worry still lingered in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, looking around, clearly wanting to do more.

As the doctor left, Ishan seemed to go into overdrive. He began calling Aditi's parents, explaining what had happened and reassuring them he would make sure she was well taken care of. Shubman stayed nearby, watching as Ishan handled everything with a fierceness that was almost painful to watch. The gravity of the situation had taken over any thoughts of their conversation; Ishan had gone into protector mode, and Shubman found himself fading into the background.

Eventually, Ishan disappeared into Aditi's room, and Shubman waited in the hallway, heart sinking. He knew Aditi was a close friend to Ishan, but as he sat there, watching him look after her so intensely, Shubman felt a creeping sense of helplessness. It was as though he didn't belong here—as if he were an intruder in a part of Ishan's life he would never fully understand.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, and Shubman felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. Ishan hadn't even looked back at him. It was understandable—Aditi was hurt, and she needed him—but he hadn't expected to feel this... invisible.