Notes of Love

it's a yes

Manik sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the hospital corridor where Amms had just passed, her steps deliberate, her face carrying a quiet determination. She had looked into the ward where Nandini was being examined by the doctors, her eyes softening with concern as she saw her granddaughter in such a fragile state. When Amms turned and met his eyes, Manik winced slightly, the movement causing a sharp pain to shoot through his left shoulder. He had been in such a rush to protect Nandini earlier, to shield her from the falling log of firewood, that he hadn't even realized the extent of the injury until he had found himself on the ground, struggling to breathe through the searing pain. His black vest, now marked with the smeared ointment, seemed like a small barrier against the agony he felt. Despite the pain, his heart ached more for Nandini, for the fear that clung to her even now. He had to make sure she was okay. That thought was the only thing that kept him grounded, even as his body trembled under the weight of what had happened. He fidgeted with his fingers, unable to control the anxiety gnawing at him, and let out a deep, weary sigh, hoping for just one thing—Nandini's safety.

"Manik!" Mukti's voice broke through his turbulent thoughts, and he looked up to find her rushing toward him, followed closely by Cabir. Their faces were etched with concern, and Manik knew they weren't here just because of the situation with Nandini—they were here because they understood him, and they could see what he was trying so desperately to hide. Cabir's eyes widened as they fell on his injured shoulder.

"Are you crazy?" Cabir's voice was thick with disbelief, his eyes scanning Manik's burn and the signs of exhaustion etched into his friend's features.

Mukti, her face pale, added, "God, it looks so bad."

Manik didn't say anything. What was there to say? His body hurt, but his heart hurt more. The fire had burned him, but it was the image of Nandini, vulnerable and terrified, that had scorched itself into his mind. How could he protect her when he couldn't even save himself from getting hurt? The pain in his shoulder was a small price to pay compared to what she had endured.

Cabir's voice softened, sensing his friend's internal battle. "She's going to be fine. Okay?" He spoke with a quiet conviction, his eyes locking with Manik's as if trying to reassure him, to remind him that things would be okay, that Nandini would pull through.

Those words were the breaking point for Manik. The years of keeping his emotions tightly bound under the surface, the years of hiding behind a mask of strength, all of it shattered in an instant. He bit down on his lower lip, desperately trying to hold the tears at bay. His chest tightened, his heart weighed down by an unbearable heaviness. The tears were right there, just beneath the surface, and all he wanted to do was let go, to release everything he had kept buried for so long. He quickly turned his face away, blinking furiously, trying to stop the tears that threatened to betray him.

Mukti, ever perceptive, silently moved beside him, taking his hand in hers. Her touch was gentle but firm, a silent offering of comfort. Manik couldn't even bring himself to speak; he only nodded, his throat tight, unable to find words. Cabir, understanding the weight of the moment, gave them space, turning toward the ward where Nandini was being checked, his face a mask of concern for her too. It wasn't just about Manik and his injury; it was about Nandini's recovery, her well-being, and the fragile thread that seemed to bind them all together in this moment of crisis.

Hours later, when the clock struck midnight, the doctors finally gave the green light for family members to visit Nandini. Amms, always the first to act, stepped inside the ward, her hands trembling slightly as they reached out to touch Nandini's face. "I'm sorry," she whispered, the words soft, almost unrecognizable in their sincerity. Her voice cracked with emotion as she looked down at Nandini, seeing the tear tracks that still stained her granddaughter's cheeks. "You were right," Amms continued, her voice steady but filled with regret, "About Manik."