Everything I Wanted❤ |COMPLETED|

Chapter 55

My most favourite chapter of the whole story.

Kashvi-

I rubbed away my tears furiously as the doctors attended him.

He was bleeding so much, the sight made my stomach twist painfully.

Rahul, Sam and Ru bhaiya stood next to him while the doctors cleaned the wound and began stitching the skin carefully.

I kept controlling my sobs. Did he not feel the pain?

Everytime the needle pierced through his skin, my chest tightened painfully.

But Danish sat there silently. Calm. Composed. As if blood dripping down his arm was a normal inconvenience.

His jaw remained locked while his eyes stayed fixed on the injury.

Not once did he complain.

Not once did he even flinch properly.

" Stop it Kashvi, how much will you cry?" Divya gently held my shoulders.

" Yes, a puffed up bride would look pretty funny tomorrow," Ree joked softly only to earn a watery glare from me.

" You guys don't understand," I whispered, my voice cracking as I stepped away from the room to breathe properly.

" What if the bullet hit him two inches to the left? How would I have survived?"

The words physically hurt coming out of me.

Because I meant them.

Completely.

"Bhabhi," Sam called softly, following me outside.

The second he wrapped his arms around me, I broke.

All the fear I had been holding inside shattered at once.

"Aap ro roke sach mei chudail lagogi. Fir bhaiya bulayenge toh muh mat banana," he muttered, trying to lighten my mood.

I hit his arm weakly at his stupid joke.

He smiled softly and handed me his handkerchief.

" We are all okay," he said quietly.

" Look at the bright side. Now we don't have any threat looming over our heads anymore. Everything happened for the better reasons."

I nodded slowly.

Inside the room, I could hear muffled voices.

Our families slowly approached the room as the doctors finally stepped out.

Relief washed over everyone's faces together.

" Come, the dressing is finished," Sam muttered gently, pulling me back inside.

The moment I entered, my eyes instantly found him.

White bandage wrapped around his arm.

Sleeve ruined.

Lip bruised.

Hair messy.

And somehow still the most terrifyingly beautiful man in the room.

My mother-in-law walked straight toward him and hugged him tightly, concern was written all over her face.

" This was the last time Danish. Promise me," she whispered emotionally.

For a second, I saw it.

Not Danish Singhania.

Just a son.