"I hate you so much," I say, making sure to meet his intense gaze, my voice dripping with playful venom.
His lips curl into a smirk, his sharp eyes never leaving mine. He takes another step forward, and I instinctively take one back-only to feel the...
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Aziz hadn't moved for two hours.
He stood there, frozen in the same spot near the operation theatre doors, his eyes fixed on the glowing red light above it.
His face was unreadable to most, but inside him a storm raged. Both families sat scattered across the waiting area—restless, anxious, whispering prayers under their breath.
Only Seher's parents had yet to arrive, but even without them, the air in that lobby was so heavy, so tense, that no one dared to speak too loud.
Because they had all seen it.
The way Aziz had clutched Seher when they wheeled her away.
The way he had screamed for her.
The way he refused to let anyone else near her.
Something was there—something more than they had known.
And though no one said it out loud, everyone felt it in their bones.
Suddenly, the red light above the operation ward flicked to green. The metallic doors slid open, and the doctor stepped out, his mask pulled down, exhaustion written all over his face.
Aziz lunged forward before anyone else could even breathe. His voice cracked, heavy with tension.
"Doctor... meri biwi theek hai na? Is she okay?"
The doctor flinched at his desperation. "The operation was successful," he said carefully, his tone measured, "but she is still unconscious. If she doesn't wake up within four hours..." he hesitated, lowering his gaze, "she might slip into a coma."
The world seemed to stop.
Every heart in the room froze. Seher's Dadi broke into sobs, clutching her chest as Mahek and Aira tried to steady her.
Anabiya pressed a trembling hand over her mouth.
Aziz's mother whispered a prayer under her breath.
