THE IMPERFECT PERFECTIONS

•Δ45~ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

      ☆ .♡‧₊˚ ☆ .♡ ‧₊ ♡‧₊ ☆ .♡ ☆ .♡‧₊˚ ☆ .♡☆ .♡‧₊˚

“Bhabhi? Why haven’t you and Bhai come home yet? I’ve been calling, but neither of you is answering. Don’t tell me you went on a date without telling me!” Veer’s voice carried a playful lilt oblivious to the storm brewing on the other end.

The moment Taniya heard his voice, the fragile dam of her composure shattered.

A raw, guttural sob tore from her throat, echoing through the sterile hospital corridor.

“Veer,” she managed, her voice trembling and barely audible. “Aditya… He’s…he’s in the hospital.”

“What?” Veer’s tone shifted instantly, the teasing gone, replaced with alarm. “Bhabhi, what happened?”

“He…he had an accident,” she stammered, the words catching in her throat. “It was bad, Veer. So bad. I—I had to operate on him.”

Her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face. “I was holding his life in my hands and I-I-I almost lo-lost hi-”

“stop” Veer interrupted, his voice urgent yet shaky. “Bhabhi, listen to me. He’s alive, right? Isn’t he?”

She choked out a yes, but it sounded more like a plea for reassurance. “For a moment, he was gone, Veer. Gone. And I thought—I thought I’d never see him again.”

“Bhabhi, listen to me,” Veer’s voice broke, his usual calm replaced with panic. “We’re coming. Just stay with him. We’re on our way.”

The line went dead and Taniya clutched the phone to her chest as her knees buckled.

She slid to the floor, her sobs shaking her fragile frame. The strength she had summoned during the surgery was gone, leaving her utterly spent.

The once-quiet corridor was suddenly filled with the sound of hurried footsteps and panicked voices.

Taniya’s head jerked up as she saw her family rushing towards her.

“Taniya!” Aditya’s mother cried, her face ashen with fear. “Where’s Aditya? What’s happened to my son?”

Taniya tried to stand but faltered. Veer reached her first, kneeling beside her and gripping her shoulders tightly. “Bhabhi, breathe. Look at me. Tell us everything.”

Her voice was a broken whisper, every word laced with anguish. “He—he was in a car crash. There was so much blood, Veer. When they brought him in…I didn’t even know it was him until I saw his things. And then…”

Her breath hitched as she clenched her fists. “I had to operate on him. Me. I had to cut into him, fight to keep him alive while every second felt like I was losing him.”

Aditya’s mother let out a strangled sob, clutching her chest as Naira wrapped an arm around her.

Veer’s grip tightened on Taniya’s shoulders, his own eyes glistening with tears. “Bhabhi, you saved him. You’re the reason he’s alive. You’re the reason we still have hope. Don’t lose that now.”

Taniya’s body shook as her emotions surged but Veer’s words anchored her, if only slightly.

She closed her eyes, praying for strength.

Somewhere in that hospital, Aditya was fighting to live—and she couldn’t afford to fall apart now.

Aditya’s mother sank into a chair, her trembling hands clasped tightly together, tears streaming down her face.

The weight of fear and helplessness etched deep lines into her usually composed features.

Beside her, Aditya’s father—stoic and unyielding even in the worst of times—stood frozen, his face pale, his eyes wide with disbelief.