✧ 𝓗𝓘𝓢 𝓛𝓐𝓢𝓣 𝓑𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓣𝓗 ✧

The room was heavy with silence and shadows, thick with the smell of medicine and quiet despair. She lay pale and fragile on the bed, her chest rising unevenly as she fought a battle her body was slowly losing. He sat beside her, holding her cold hand tightly in his, as if letting go would mean losing her forever. He pressed soft kisses to her trembling fingers, over and over, his lips lingering as his tears fell onto her skin.

His vision blurred as the doctor’s words echoed in his mind from just a few hours ago, each one cutting deeper than the last. The truth he wasn’t ready to accept wrapped around his heart, leaving him helpless, broken, and afraid of the coming dawn.

“Mrs. Raj cannot live much longer. Her body has stopped responding to the medications. We tried everything we could, Mr. Raj. We are truly sorry. Please call your family members and stay with her for as long as you can in her final moments,” the doctor said gently, his voice heavy with regret.

Avinash felt his entire world shatter. The thought of a life without her was unbearable. A future with no sound of her laughter, no warmth in her sweet words, no presence beside him felt impossible to survive. His chest tightened, rage and despair crashing into each other the moment those words slipped from the doctor’s mouth. For a brief second, fury overtook him, born not of anger, but of helpless love and grief.

Avinash laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and hollow. “Stopped responding?” he snapped. “So that’s it? You just give up and send me home with apologies?”

“Mr. Raj, please try to understand—” the doctor began.

“Understand what?” Avinash cut in, his voice rising. “That my wife is dying while you stand there telling me there’s nothing left to do? She trusted you. I trusted you.”

The doctor remained still, his expression heavy with guilt. “We didn’t abandon her. We fought for her every single day.”

“Then fight one more,” Avinash shouted, his hands trembling. “One more injection, one more machine, anything. Don’t tell me it’s over when she’s still breathing.”

For a moment, the doctor said nothing. Then he spoke quietly, each word careful. “Keeping her alive artificially will only prolong her suffering. Sometimes the hardest thing we do as doctors is knowing when to stop.”

Avinash turned away, his chest heaving. His anger slowly cracked, giving way to something far worse. His shoulders sagged as the truth finally sank in.

“So you’re asking me to watch her fade away,” he whispered.

“I’m asking you to love her through it,” the doctor replied. “Let her last moments be filled with your presence, not pain.”

Avinash wiped his face roughly, his hands shaking. “If she feels alone… if she’s scared—”

“She won’t be,” the doctor said gently. “Not if you’re there.”

Silence followed, broken only by Avinash’s uneven breathing.

Avinash held her hand tightly, his thumb brushing over her cold fingers as tears slipped down his face and fell onto the bedsheet. He leaned closer, his voice trembling.
“Do you remember, Kiara… the first day we met?” he whispered. “You walked into the office and the moment you saw me, you just froze. The files slipped from your hands, scattered all over the floor, and you couldn’t even look away.”

A faint, broken smile touched his lips.
“I remember thinking how unprofessional you were,” he let out a shaky breath. “I was so annoyed. I had no idea that the woman standing there, embarrassed and speechless, would one day become my entire world.”

His grip tightened as his tears fell freely.
“Little did I know that I’d reach a day where I wouldn’t know how to breathe without you… how to live without your laughter, your voice, your presence.”

His forehead rested against her hand.
“I thought we had time, Kiara. I really did.”

Seven years ago

Kiara stood outside the conference room, clutching a stack of files to her chest. Her heart was pounding, not from nerves, but from the shock of what she had just seen.

‘How can a person look so… pretty?’ she thought, stunned.

Tall, sharp features, calm eyes, and a presence that seemed to command the entire room without effort. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Forgot why she was there.She took one step forward.

The files slipped from her hands and scattered across the floor.

“Oh— I’m so sorry!” Kiara blurted out, crouching down immediately.

A shadow fell in front of her.

“Miss,” a firm voice said, controlled but cold, “this is an office, not a movie set. Pay attention to where you’re walking.”

Kiara froze again. Slowly, she looked up. It was him. Her boss.

“I—I didn’t see— I mean, I was just—” she stammered, her cheeks burning.

Avinash sighed, rubbing his temple. “If you’re going to work here, you need to be more careful. This kind of carelessness isn’t acceptable.”

“Yes, sir. I’m really sorry,” she said quickly, gathering the files with shaking hands.

He paused, then handed one of the folders back to her. “Make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he turned and walked away.Kiara straightened up, still staring after him, her heart racing.

Handsome, she thought. Ridiculously handsome.She let out a quiet breath.
“And unbearably grumpy,” she muttered to herself. Little did she know that this grumpy, handsome man would one day become the center of her world.

Later that afternoon, she found herself standing outside his cabin again. This time, she double-checked her grip on the files before knocking.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside, careful with every movement. “You asked for the quarterly reports, sir.”

He glanced through them, flipping pages quickly. “You’re new.”

“Yes. First week.”

“That explains the nervousness,” he said. “But this isn’t a college internship. Mistakes cost time.”

“I understand,” she replied. Then, softly but firmly, “It won’t happen again.”

He looked up at her then, studying her face. The irritation had faded, replaced by something quieter.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Kiara.”

He nodded once. “Alright, Kiara. You may go.”

She turned to leave, then paused. “Sir… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me another chance.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Do your work well,” he said. “That’s enough.”As she stepped out, Kiara let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

‘Definitely grumpy’, she thought.
‘But maybe… not so bad.’

Inside the cabin, Avinash stared at the closed door for a moment longer than necessary, unaware that the careless girl who dropped her files had just stepped into his life forever.

Present

Avinash’s voice broke as the memory faded, pulling him back to the dim hospital room. The machines hummed steadily beside her, their sound cutting through the silence.He brushed his thumb over her fingers, his tears soaking into her skin.

“Kiara…” he whispered. “Do you know when I realized I was falling for you?”

He let out a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving her face. “It wasn’t some grand moment. It was a normal day. You were standing near my desk, explaining a report, and you were nervous… but still smiling. I remember thinking how you always smiled, even when I was being difficult.”

His lips curved faintly.
“That was the first time it scared me. The thought that your smile mattered to me more than my work.” His voice trembled. “I told myself it was nothing. That you were just an employee. But every day after that, I found myself waiting for your footsteps, listening to your voice, noticing when you weren’t around.” 

He squeezed her hand gently. “That’s when I knew. I had already fallen for you, long before I had the courage to admit it.” He leaned closer, resting his forehead against her hand. “And now… the idea of a world without you terrifies me more than anything I’ve ever faced.”

It suddenly happened on an evening that felt ordinary at first, long after most of the office lights had gone out. The city outside glowed softly, reflected in the glass walls, while the silence inside made every unspoken feeling louder. Kiara stood near Avinash’s desk, her heart racing. She had carried her feelings for far too long, hidden behind professionalism and quiet smiles. That evening, she finally chose honesty over fear. When she confessed, her voice trembled, not because she doubted her feelings, but because she feared the consequences. She was ready to walk away if she had to, ready to sacrifice her place there just to speak her truth. 

Avinash listened without interrupting. For the first time, the man known for control and restraint let his guard slip. He admitted what he had buried for months, how her presence had slowly woven itself into his routine, how her absence unsettled him more than any work crisis ever had.Neither of them had planned this moment. Yet, standing there, it became clear that their hearts had already crossed the line long before their words did.

Fear gave way to relief. Uncertainty softened into warmth. When Avinash reached for her hand, it wasn’t as her superior, but as a man who had finally stopped denying his feelings. Kiara’s smile, trembling and bright, told him everything he needed to know.

That night, they left the office together, no longer bound by titles or restraint, but connected by a love that had quietly grown between deadlines, shared glances, and unspoken understanding.

Their first date wasn’t grand or carefully planned. It was simple, almost shy, like both of them were afraid of breaking the fragile happiness they had just found.

They chose a quiet café tucked away from the noise of the city. Kiara arrived early, nervously smoothing her dress, while Avinash walked in moments later, unsure of where to put his hands or how to soften the seriousness he carried so naturally. Yet the moment their eyes met, the tension eased. They talked for hours. About childhood memories, small dreams, favorite foods, fears they rarely admitted out loud. Kiara laughed freely, her laughter light and genuine, and Avinash realized he had never wanted to protect a sound more in his life. He smiled more that evening than he had in years, and each smile felt earned, real.

When the night ended, neither of them wanted to leave. They walked side by side under the dim streetlights, hands brushing, hearts full. That night, love didn’t rush them. It simply settled in, warm and certain. From that day on, love became part of their routine.

Their married life wasn’t perfect, but it was deeply real. Mornings were slow and peaceful, filled with shared coffee and quiet conversations. Kiara filled their home with warmth, laughter, and little habits that turned four walls into a sanctuary. Avinash learned to leave his work behind at the door, choosing her presence over deadlines.

They argued sometimes, over small things that didn’t matter in the end. But they always found their way back to each other, apologies whispered late at night, fingers intertwined in the dark. Love, for them, wasn’t about never breaking. It was about choosing each other every single time.

Avinash found strength in Kiara’s belief in him. Kiara found safety in his steady presence. Together, they built a life woven with trust, shared dreams, and quiet promises. They celebrated victories, mourned losses, and faced the world hand in hand. In each other, they found home. 

And now, as Avinash sat beside her hospital bed, holding the same hand he once held on their first date, those memories became his anchor. Every laugh, every promise, every ordinary day they shared reminded him that loving her had been the greatest thing he had ever done.

Avinash tightened his hold on her hand, his tears falling freely now.

“Do you know what you did to me that day?” he whispered. “The day they told us… the day they said your name and that disease in the same sentence.” He shook his head slowly. “My world broke, Kiara. Completely. I remember standing there, listening to them talk, but I couldn’t hear anything after that. All I could think was, ‘this can’t be real.’Not you. Not us.”

His voice cracked. “I kept telling myself you’d be fine. That it was just another test, another hurdle we’d cross like we always did. I read every report, trusted every medicine, believed every small improvement like it was a miracle.”

He pressed her hand to his chest. “I hoped even when they told me not to. I hoped when you were tired, when you were in pain, when you smiled just to keep me strong.” A tear slipped down onto her fingers.
“I still imagine you walking out of this room,” he whispered. “Complaining about the food, laughing at how scared I was, telling me I worried too much.” His grip trembled. “I never learned how to live in a world where you don’t get better. I never wanted to.” He leaned closer, his forehead resting against her hand.
“So please… if you can hear me… don’t give up. I’m still hoping. I’ll always hope.”

The door opened suddenly. Avinash didn’t look up at first. He didn’t want to. He already knew what it meant. Soft footsteps filled the room as their family walked in, one by one. Her mother stopped near the doorway, her breath catching painfully at the sight of Kiara lying so still, Avinash clinging to her hand like it was the only thing keeping him alive. Her father turned his face away, unable to bear it, while quiet sobs broke out around the room. No one spoke. There were no words left that could help.

Avinash finally looked up, his eyes red and hollow. For a moment, he wanted to tell them to leave, to give him just a little more time. But the look on their faces told him they already understood. Their hearts shattered the same way he had hours ago. Then the door opened again. The doctor walked in, his expression grave, familiar now in its sadness. He moved toward Kiara, checking the monitor, placing two fingers gently on her wrist. The room held its breath. A few seconds passed and then more.The steady humming of the machine faltered.The doctor looked at the screen once more before slowly straightening up. His eyes softened as he turned to Avinash.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

The sound that followed wasn’t a scream. It was something worse. Avinash felt it before he understood it. The warmth in her hand faded. The faint rise and fall of her chest stopped. The machine went silent, leaving behind a noise so loud it crushed his chest.

“No…” Avinash whispered, shaking his head. “No, no— Kiara, please.”

He clutched her hand tighter, pressing his forehead against it like he could bring her back by sheer will. “I’m here,” he begged. “I’m still here.” But she was gone. Her mother broke down, collapsing into a chair. Her father stood frozen, eyes glassy, shoulders trembling. The room filled with grief, raw and unbearable. Avinash didn’t move. He stayed there, holding her hand, refusing to let go, as if letting go would make it real.

And somewhere between the silence of the machines and the quiet sobs of their family, Avinash realized that the world he knew had ended It did not with noise, but with the stillness of the woman he loved leaving it forever.

The funeral passed like a blur. White flowers covered the ground, their softness cruel against the weight of loss. People came and went, offering condolences in hushed voices, their words dissolving before they could reach Avinash. He stood beside her body, dressed in white, unmoving, as if grief had turned him into stone. He watched as rituals were performed, as prayers were spoken, as strangers cried for the woman who had been his entire world. Somewhere in the distance, he heard her name again and again, but it no longer sounded real. When it was time to let her go, his hands trembled for the first time.The Fire rose and its smoke curled into the sky. And with it, seven years of love, laughter, shared mornings, unfinished conversations, and future plans turned into ashes. Avinash did not cry then. He simply watched, empty, as if something essential inside him had already burned away. 

The house felt wrong without her. Her slippers still lay near the door. Her mug sat in the kitchen, untouched. The faint scent of her lingered on the pillow beside his, cruel in its familiarity. Every corner held her presence, and yet she was nowhere to be found. 

Days and weeks passed and Avinash moved through them mechanically. He woke up, ate because someone reminded him to, slept only when exhaustion forced him to. Conversations felt distant, like noise from another room. The world continued, indifferent to the fact that he had stopped. It was unbearable for him to imagine a life without Kiara and here he was unfortunately living it. At night, he used to lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying memories he could not escape,her laughter, her complaints. The way she used to call his name when she was excited, or tired, or simply wanted him near.

He spoke to her sometimes just in his mind, not out loud,telling her about his day. About the silence. About how unfair it all felt. Grief did not come as a single wave. It came in fragments. In moments when he reached for his phone to call her. In the instinct to turn and tell her something that no longer had a listener. In the realization that every future he had imagined had included her. Slowly, painfully, Avinash understood something that Love does not end when a person does,It stays, It lingers, It hurts,It reshapes the one who remains.

And so he knew that he had to learn to live differently and it was not by moving on, but by carrying her with him. In memory. In habit. In the quiet strength she had once believed he possessed. 

She was gone. But the love she left behind became the thing that kept him breathing, one day at a time. 

(readers are free to imagine kiara’s disease)