Be My Mistake | ✓

[ 43 ]

- Noor's POV -

I stare on as Dr. Abadi finishes up the stitching.

We managed to carry Yasir onto the couch. He was heavier because of his wet clothes but to be honest, my own conscious was heavier than the actual physical weight of his body.

I asked the doctor if I should change him into dry clothes and she informed me that she must start right away, before the wound becomes infected, if it hasn't already happened.

When I told her that I couldn't feel a pulse, she told me that I was in shock and couldn't feel his pulse. He had only fainted from exhaustion and blood loss. I was probably just too numb to be able to feel a pulse.

She also asked me to take a shower so I don't catch a cold. I took a quick five-minute shower and ran right back to his side.

I hold my ring tighter in my palm as I think about how I'm supposed to live with myself after this.

"You must be Noor? His wife?" Dr. Abadi asks as she looks through her bag.

I nod. "I am."

"This is your first time seeing him like this?" She asks carefully.

I blink, words are stuck momentarily. "F-First time? Has it gotten this serious before?"

She sighs. "I'm sure he hadn't mentioned it before because he probably didn't want you to worry. This is his third serious attempt."

My mind starts spinning.

Third serious attempt.

Third serious attempt.

Third serious attempt.

"How... many times have you..." I can't form sentences together.

"I'm the Khan household's family practitioner. I'm supposed to be called privately when they don't want word to get out into the news outlets about something. This is an example of that." She explains.

That's why Yasir didn't let me call an ambulance. That's messed up.

"I've seen Yasir too many times to count and it was always for—" She takes a pause, "—extremely unfortunate reasons. After he graduated high school, Lateef must've called me over 10 times a year. And the number kept going up until recently... I thought he must've started rehabilitating in his own way."

"But he did the same thing again. He kept it in until he blew up." I say.

She stays quiet and doesn't comment any further. I can tell she thinks she said more than she should have.

"I wrote down a few things you can do to keep his wounds clean and when to change up his bandages. These are the medications I'll leave for him. Instructions for when to give them to him and how to give them to him are on the paper." She places they bottles on the nightstand, beside his bed. "If you're unclear about any of the instructions or if Yasir's condition doesn't improve within the next 24 hours, give me a call as soon as possible."

I nod. "Thank you so much. Is it okay for me to clean him up?"

She gives me a soft smile. "Yes, of course. He's so lucky to have you. I'm sure this must've scared you."