**Her wedding day was supposed to be the start of forever. Instead, it became the day her world collapsed.**
Samaira had it all-until Advait, the man she trusted, shattered her dreams on their wedding day. Left standing at the altar, humiliated and...
The sterile hospital lights flickered above Advait as he paced back and forth, the air thick with anxiety. His fingers clenched and unclenched, and his chest was a knot of nerves, but the one thought that kept circling in his mind was Samaira. She had been taken into surgery, but how much time had passed? Was she all right?
His phone buzzed in his pocket again, and Advait’s heart skipped a beat. It was Uncle Rajveer.
He answered the call immediately, his voice coming out strained, ragged, “Uncle Rajveer…”
“Advait, what happened?” Rajveer’s voice came through, tight with concern, but still calm—too calm, considering the circumstances. “Why aren’t you updating me? I’m getting restless over here. What’s going on with Samaira?”
Advait’s eyes darted toward the operation theatre doors. The doctors need more time, he reminded himself, but the silence between his own thoughts felt deafening. The words wouldn’t come easily—he didn’t want to explain, not yet. Not in a way that would make Rajveer understand the depth of his desperation. His composed exterior had already begun to crack under the pressure of the situation.
Taking a deep breath, Advait’s grip tightened on the phone as he paced again. He needed to keep his focus, but it felt like the walls were closing in around him. He couldn't let himself break, not now. Not when Samaira was fighting for her life.
“It’s not the time for details, Uncle,” Advait finally spoke, his words low and measured. “All you need to know is that Samaira met with a hazardous accident. She’s in surgery. That’s all I can tell you right now.”
Rajveer's breath caught on the other end of the line, and for a moment, there was silence, like the world had stopped for a brief second. Advait could hear the faint echo of his friend's voice, steady but laced with concern.
“A hazardous accident?” Rajveer repeated, his tone changing—no longer composed but filled with raw disbelief. “How did this happen? Was it—was it her fault?”
Advait’s jaw clenched. The questions kept coming, but the answers were hard to find. How could he explain the mess that had led to this? How could he tell Rajveer that his own emotional distance, his inability to be there when it mattered most, had contributed to this?
“I... I don’t know, Uncle,” Advait admitted, his voice faltering. “I just—I can’t lose her. I don’t know what to do. She... she was in my car. I thought—she was just upset, and I thought... I didn’t think it would go this far.”
Rajveer remained silent for a moment, processing the words. Advait could hear him shifting on the other end of the line, and then Rajveer’s voice came back, calm but with an edge of understanding.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Advait. Stay strong. You need to hold it together. She needs you to be the person you always are—the one who’s always kept his calm. I know it’s hard, but she’s tough. You’ve got to trust that she’s going to make it through this.”
Advait closed his eyes, trying to center himself, but the words felt hollow against the whirlwind inside him. He had always prided himself on his ability to stay composed under pressure, but this was different. This was Samaira—his wife, the woman he had spent so long keeping at arm’s length. And now, it felt like it was all crumbling before him.
"I just don't know, Uncle," Advait whispered, voice barely audible. "I don’t know if I can be strong enough."
Rajveer's response came quickly, with an unwavering resolve. “You are, Advait. You are. Now, don’t fall apart. You need to be there when she wakes up, when she’s out of that surgery. Do you understand?”
Advait’s hand tightened around the phone as he looked toward the doors of the operating room. The thought of losing her, the thought of waking up one day without her by his side, nearly brought him to his knees.
“I... I understand, Uncle,” Advait said quietly, more to himself than to his friend. “I’ll hold it together.”
Rajveer’s voice softened. “Good. And I’m on my way. Just hold tight, alright?”
The line clicked, and the connection was lost. Advait stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the hallway ahead of him. The minutes dragged on, but every second felt like an eternity. He didn’t know what else to do, except wait. The uncertainty gnawed at him.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, this was all his fault. His eyes drifted to the empty hallway, his thoughts racing.
If only he had been there for her. If only he hadn’t let her slip so far away emotionally. If only he had told her the truth, instead of keeping her in the dark.
Would this have happened if I hadn’t pushed her away?
The question haunted him as the minutes stretched into hours.
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