After Advait left Samaira heartbroken on the day that was supposed to be the happiest of her life-their wedding day-her world shatters. Picking up the pieces, she barely manages to rebuild herself when her family insists she marry Aarav, a successfu...
Advait paced the hospital corridor, his hands clenched into fists, his usual composure crumbling bit by bit. Every second felt like an eternity as he waited for the doctor to emerge. The cold fluorescent lights overhead cast sharp shadows on his face, highlighting the worry etched into his features.
For a man who thrived on control, this moment felt unbearable. No plan, no calculated move could ease the unease that clawed at his chest. He hated this feeling—this vulnerability that only Samaira seemed to elicit in him.
He stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “What the hell is taking so long?”
Finally, the door to the examination room opened, and the doctor stepped out. Advait was on her in an instant. “How is she?” he asked, his voice sharp but undeniably tense.
The doctor adjusted her glasses and offered a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing serious.”
Advait’s shoulders relaxed for a fraction of a second, but his cold, commanding demeanor returned almost immediately. “Then why is she unconscious?” His voice was like steel, laced with a dangerous edge. “Come straight to the point, doctor.”
The doctor hesitated, taken aback by his tone, but quickly composed herself. “Her condition isn’t life-threatening, Mr. Shikhawat, but it could become serious if she doesn’t take care of herself.”
He narrowed his eyes, impatient. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” the doctor said, choosing her words carefully, “she’s severely exhausted. It’s evident she hasn’t been sleeping for days and isn’t maintaining a proper diet. Her body is running on fumes, and it finally gave out.”
Advait’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.
The doctor continued, “She needs complete rest—physically and emotionally. If she continues like this, her condition will worsen, and it could lead to long-term health complications.”
Advait nodded curtly, signaling he had heard enough. “That’s all?” he asked, his tone clipped.
“Yes,” the doctor replied, sensing it was best not to push him further. “We’ve given her fluids to help her recover. She’ll wake up soon, but she mustn’t strain herself.”
“Good,” he said, turning away from her. “Make sure she’s ready to leave when she wakes up.”
The doctor blinked, surprised by his abruptness, but didn’t argue. She walked away, leaving Advait alone in the corridor once again.
---
**Advait’s POV**
Her exhaustion wasn’t surprising. Not really. I had watched her for weeks—fighting me, fighting herself, running from everything. She had been holding on to sheer willpower alone, and now it had finally caught up to her.
But hearing it from the doctor stirred something in me I couldn’t name.
*She needs rest.*
I had pushed her to her limits, yes. But this… this wasn’t part of the plan. Samaira wasn’t supposed to break—not like this. She was supposed to fight, to keep pushing back, to challenge me.
I hated the thought that I might have been the cause of this.
Shaking my head, I dismissed the thought. It didn’t matter. She was mine now, and I would make sure she recovered—if only because she was of no use to me otherwise.
Still, as I leaned against the cold wall, a flicker of something unfamiliar crept into my mind. Guilt? Concern? No, I told myself firmly. This was about control. It was always about control.
---
**Samaira’s POV**
Though I remained unconscious, fragments of awareness floated to the surface. I could hear muffled voices—Advait’s sharp, commanding tone and the doctor’s calm, professional replies.
My body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and something else I couldn’t place. My mind drifted to everything that had happened—the warehouse, Aarav’s threats, and Advait’s cold words.
*You’re mine now. My wife. And you will always be with me.*
Even in this haze, I felt the sting of those words. He thought he owned me, like I was a trophy he could claim. But I wasn’t his. I wasn’t anyone’s.
Still, I couldn’t deny the truth. He had saved me. Not out of love or kindness, but for his own twisted reasons. And despite everything, I had acknowledged that by thanking him.
But that didn’t mean I had forgiven him. The pain he caused—the betrayal, the humiliation—it still burned in my chest. And yet, somewhere deep down, I couldn’t ignore the fact that he was here, waiting for me to wake up.
Why?
---
**Advait’s POV**
The nurse appeared at the doorway. “She’s waking up.”
Without a word, I strode into the room, my eyes immediately finding her pale, delicate frame lying on the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, before they settled on me.
“Advait,” she murmured, her voice weak but steady.
I crossed my arms, masking the strange relief that washed over me at hearing her say my name. “You’re awake. Good.”
She blinked slowly, as if trying to piece together where she was. “What… happened?”
“You collapsed,” I said flatly. “The doctor says you’re exhausted. No sleep, no food. What were you trying to prove, Samaira?”
Her lips twitched into the faintest hint of a bitter smile. “That I’m stronger than you think.”
I leaned closer, my voice low and firm. “You’re strong, yes. But even the strongest have limits. And I won’t have you breaking yourself. Do you understand?”
Her gaze met mine, a flicker of defiance lighting up her tired eyes. “Why do you care?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead, I straightened up and said, “Get some rest. We’re leaving as soon as you’re discharged.”
As I turned to leave, her voice stopped me.
“Advait.”
I paused but didn’t look back.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
The words hit me harder than I wanted to admit. Without responding, I walked out of the room, my emotions locked away once more. But even as I left, her voice lingered in my mind, a haunting reminder that no matter how hard I tried, Samaira had a way of slipping past my defenses.
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