✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
[ 𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋 1 ]
Because this is where love fades and hate resides and intensifies, broken hearts produce the most tragic stories.
Their treachery is told through their bleeding hearts: their unrequited love was never reciprocated. The...
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The doctor said, his voice low and measured. The doctor's gaze, though compassionate, held a weight that made Vidyut's heart plummet.
"We've managed to stabilize Ada. The surgery was...extensive. She's alive, but..."
The 'but' hung in the air, a dark cloud obscuring any semblance of hope. Vidyut's breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. "But what? What is it?"
The bullet that struck her lower abdomen caused significant damage. It...it has affected her reproductive organs. The trajectory was...unfortunate. The damage to the uterus, the fallopian tubes...it's severe."
He paused, searching for the right words, but none could soften the blow. "It will be very difficult for Ada to conceive in the future. The damage is...profound. The scarring, the potential complications...even if she were to become pregnant, the risk of complications would be extremely high. It would be a hazardous pregnancy, putting both her and the baby at considerable risk."
The words were a brutal litany, a death knell for a dream. Vidyut's world tilted, the sterile corridor blurring into a kaleidoscope of pain. He felt a coldness creeping through him, a numbness that threatened to consume him whole.
Divya Sharma stood behind him, her face a mask of shock and grief. A sob escaped her lips, a raw, animalistic sound of despair. She crumpled into a nearby chair, her body wracked with silent tears.
The dream of motherhood, a natural, inherent desire, had been snatched away, a cruel twist of fate. For any parents, the prospect of grandchildren, of carrying on the family line, had been a beacon of hope. Now, that light had been extinguished, leaving behind only darkness.
Rishi, though reeling from the blow, felt a surge of protectiveness, a fierce determination to shield Ada, his sister, from further pain. He turned to his mother, his voice firm despite the tremor in his heart.
"Maa," he said, using the respectful term for mother, "Ada needs us. She needs our strength, not our tears. We have to be strong for her."
Divya looked up, her eyes swimming with tears. "But...but she wanted children. She always dreamed of being a mother."
