𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊
In a world where love can be both. Beautiful or destructive force, the Raghuvanshi brothers hide behind the cold facade guarding their heart from the pain of love.
"Just because you are my wife and we share a bed d...
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V I R A J
Hope is the cruelest among everything.
Because it makes you believe in what you already know might never happen. It tricks you into waiting for a tomorrow that may never come.
I have learnt that the hard way.
Sitting in front of the doctor’s chair, waiting for the him to arrive, my legs wouldn’t stop shaking. My breath came out uneven, shallow, and my heart thumped like it was trying to escape my chest.
I was never this nervous. Never.
My eyes darted to the clock again and again, watching each second crawl by like it was mocking me. Every tick sounded louder than the last, each one pulling a piece of me apart.
I kept waiting.
For footsteps in the hallway.
For the door to open.
For someone to say something anything that could hold the hope I was clinging to.
I had imagined this moment a hundred times in my head doctors walking in with tired smiles, saying he made it, that my brother is conscious, that he could finally breathe again without any machines. But deep down, I knew reality doesn’t work that way.
When the door finally opened, I jumped to my feet. The doctor walked in, his mask pulled down, his expression unreadable. My mouth went dry.
“Mr. Raghuvanshi…” he began softly.
And just from the way he said my name, I felt my stomach drop. I didn’t need to hear the rest. I already knew.
That’s when I realised hope doesn’t die all at once.
It fades, slowly, cruelly…
like a candle that refuses to go out, even when there’s no flame left.
"You already saw it, Mr. Raghuvanshi," the doctor said quietly, his tone heavy with fatigue.
"Shivaansh isn’t responding to any of the treatments. His brain activity is minimal. He’s in a vegetative possibly minimally conscious state."
My throat went dry.
The doctor continued, "He can likely hear and sense everything around him, but he can’t respond. It’s like his body has shut down while his mind is trapped inside. Or maybe… maybe he’s just too tired to fight anymore." My heart began to pound painfully.
"There must be another surgery, another treatment, doctor. Please anything."
He shook his head. "We’ve tried every available intervention. I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do medically."
"Then we’ll take him abroad!" I burst out, my voice cracking. "If you think there’s any chance he could recover better overseas, we can shift him right now!"
