The sterile, white walls of the hospital corridor seemed to close in on Krish, Dev, Charu, and Rohit as they stood outside the ICU, peering through the glass with anguished faces. Inside, an army of doctors surrounded Abhira’s fragile form, tangled in tubes and wires. Machines beeped rhythmically, counting down moments that felt as heavy as eternity. The doctor gently placed the oxygen mask back over her face, the misted plastic covering Abhira’s once-smiling lips, lips that had always been quick to break into a carefree laugh.

Krish’s gaze lingered on her; the vibrant, life-loving Abhira he remembered was now a shadow, weighed down by weakness. They could only watch helplessly, the silence among them stretching as they tried to hold onto the memory of her, radiant and full of life.

The doctor came out of the ICU, his face somber. "I'm afraid her condition has deteriorated further. We can't wait until next month. We need to prepone the surgery to this week."

All four looked at him, dread seeping into their expressions. Krish’s eyes filled with tears, which he quickly turned away to hide, but Charu caught him, holding his arm tightly, as if anchoring him through the storm raging within.

“Have faith,” the doctor urged them softly. “Pray that things work out and that the surgery is successful. Right now, hope is our strongest ally.”

Dev placed a reassuring hand on Rohit's shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper. “Kuch pata laga? Baat hui Armaan se?”

Rohit shook his head, his face clouded with frustration. “Bhabhi se divorce ke baad baat hi kaha karte hain woh... kahan hote hain, kahan jaate hain, kisi ko kuch nahi pata.”

Charu looked up, desperation sharpening her voice. “Toh Armaan bhaiya ko dhundo, Rohit bhai! Bhabhi ne pehli baar koi wish ki hai. At least usse poora toh kar sakte hain na hum... shayad akhri–”

“Galti se bhi apni baat poori mat karna, Charu,” Krish cut her off sharply, his voice trembling. “Bhabhi ko kuch nahi hoga. Armaan bhaiya ko aana hi hoga... main leke aaunga unhe.”

As if by fate, the scene shifts to Mussoorie’s quaint railway station. Armaan stepped out, the crisp mountain air greeting him as he hailed a cab. His face remained a mask, the kind of expression he had mastered over time, hiding the storm beneath. His green eyes, once Abhira’s sanctuary, were shielded by dark shades, blocking out a part of him that no one could reach.

As the cab made its way through winding roads, carrying him towards an uncertain future, Armaan leaned back against the cab seat, his heart ached as he drifted back to that last Gangaur, the one that had felt almost magical—the festival that had held such promise, laughter, and love. Abhira had been radiant that night, adorned in vibrant colors, her smile brighter than the lights strung across the courtyard. She had danced with him, carefree and full of life, unaware of the storm that would tear them apart just moments later. Those were the last truly happy moments they’d shared, moments he had replayed countless times, hoping somehow he could reach back and stop time.

The memory stung as he thought of how everything had unraveled, the bonds he had broken—his lifeline severed, the trust they had built reduced to scattered fragments. And Abhira... his Abhira, the one he’d thought he could protect from everything, had been the one he had let slip away.

His mind traveled back even further, to the very first time they met in Mussoorie, on a foggy winter morning when he had unexpectedly crossed paths with her. She had been a stranger then, yet her laughter had warmed something within him. They’d spent the day together as if fate had known something he hadn’t—that she would become the love that would fill every empty space in his life. And now, years later, all he had left were memories... memories that were all he could cling to.

But as he stared out the window, a strange unease settled over him. Fate had drawn him back here, to the place where their paths had first crossed. This town, where he had found her and where he had married her, had called him once again.

Was fate giving him a second chance, or would he be too late to find her this time, forced to say goodbye in the same place where it all began?

And as they waited for him, the last shreds of hope held onto by those who loved her tightened their resolve. For Abhira, they would fight fate itself.

*..*..*..*..*..*..*

This story is Starts from the Divorce track and is completely off track. Just the start has been picked from the show.

This story is as it will unfold would be set in 2 year from the divorce track.

Kaise, kya, kyun, Kab sabka jawab agley update main milega.

Agar tum sath ho comes by midnight.

As of this let me know ur views.

~TheLostSoul