" 𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑑."
───※ ·❆· ※───
Aisha , her name alone melts the coldest hearts, and her bright smile brightens their days. The cheery, bright, and sometimes...
Before starting the chapter, I would like to thank you guys for reaching 200K readers on GS!! Thank you all so sooo much for giving love to this book.
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They sat in silence.
The cold hospital corridor wrapped around them like a vice, suffocating and still. Time had slowed to a crawl.
Veer sat hunched forward, elbows digging into his knees, his head buried in his hands. His breath was shallow, uneven — the kind that tried to hold back the storm building inside. Beside him, Vikram leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched so hard it looked like he might shatter his own teeth. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, as if looking up would make it all real.
Divyansh sat motionless, hands folded in his lap, fingers intertwined too tightly, knuckles white. His usually calm eyes stared ahead, empty, as if his mind had been yanked miles away from that corridor.
Arjun hadn't said a word. He sat farthest from the others, still as stone. His eyes were red-rimmed, but not a single tear had escaped. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, again and again, like he was trying not to choke on the ache sitting heavy in his chest.
Rajendra leaned back in the chair, eyes closed — not in rest, but in retreat. But the tremble in his clasped hands, the crease between his brows, betrayed the storm he was trying to bury.
Saad sat on the floor, legs pulled up to his chest, arms resting limply on his knees, head down. He looked like a little boy who'd just lost his world — and in a way, he had. His lips moved silently, maybe praying, maybe trying to speak the words his voice refused to carry.
Rivaan stood apart, right by the door. One fist clutched the fabric of his shirt as though it was the only thing anchoring him. His other hand kept brushing the wall beside the doorframe, a subconscious motion, like he needed to touch something real. His eyes — unblinking — stayed locked on the small glass window into Aisha's room.
And in all of their minds, the same words kept replaying, looping like a cruel, broken record:
"Sorry, Mr. Oberoi... but the impact of the brain injury was major. It caused her memory loss. There were fewer chances — that's why I didn't tell you earlier — but it seems the nerve was hit badly, leading to amnesia. Still, I can assure you she will regain her memory with time. Just never pressurize her. She's a heart patient. Emotional triggers can be dangerous."
The doctor's words hadn't just delivered a diagnosis — they had dropped a silent bomb.
No one moved. No one spoke.
Because the girl they had just gotten back... didn't remember who she was. Didn't remember who they were.
And somehow, that hurt more than losing her all over again.
