"Why are you still here?" Anuradha's words were barely audible, hoarse from hours of screaming and crying. Her gaze fell upon Abhay, who slouched in the corner, avoiding her piercing stare.

Priya and Nisha had left to rest at Abhay's request, leaving behind a mother consumed by inconsolable grief and a man consumed by overwhelming guilt. It felt like an eternity as they sat in silence, the weight of their respective emotions hanging thick in the air between them.

"You cowardly abandoned my daughter once she served her purpose. I can't help but wonder what dark purpose is holding you back from repeating the same betrayal," she seethed, her voice a venomous whisper.

Abhay's eyes met Anuradha's, reflecting a mirror image of her pain and anger. His heart shattered into a thousand pieces, each one tainted with his own guilt and fear.

"I never meant for any of this to happen," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The confession seemed to momentarily appease Anuradha's fury, but it did nothing to alleviate the weight of her grief. "I loved her."

Anuradha's gaze bore into Abhay, searching for truth in his words.

"Love doesn't explain why you left her alone and vulnerable," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but carrying an unmistakable power. "What kind of love leaves a woman to face the world alone, with no one to turn to? What kind of love lets her be used and discarded like trash?"

Abhay swallowed hard, feeling the sting of her words as if they were physically piercing his heart. He knew she was right; his love hadn't been enough. Far from protecting her, he had exposed her to the vultures by his own actions, influenced by his father's prejudice.

Abhay's eyes welled up with tears, betraying the fortitude he so desperately tried to maintain. The truth was, he didn't know what kind of love he had for Avantika. It was a love that he had never experienced before - a love that made him want to fight for her, protect her. A love that made him fall to his knees in gratitude for the second chance and wonder if he had any right to call himself worthy of her affection.

"I don't know what kind of love it is. I know I failed her," he admitted, the tremor in his voice giving away his inner turmoil. "I was a fool. A gullible, misguided, and impulsive fool. And I'm determined not to fail her again."

Anuradha looked at him with a mix of skepticism and pity. "You're not a fool. You're a coward, hiding behind the mask of obedience and naivete to cover for your mistakes."

Abhay hung his head, feeling the sting of her words like a thousand razor cuts. "I can only hope that I have a chance to make things right. But I know that it won't be easy. It will take time, patience, and understanding." He took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to face the daunting task ahead. "I am not asking for forgiveness, but for another chance to prove myself."

Anuradha's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Abhay's every move. She could sense his sincerity, but also the weight of his guilt.

"Avantika deserves better than a man who abandons her when she needs him the most," she said, her voice barely audible in the quiet room.

Abhay looked up, his eyes pleading with Anuradha. "I know I don't deserve her or her forgiveness. But if there is anything I can do to help Avantika, I'd do it. No second thoughts, no backtracking."

Before Anuradha could respond to Abhay's declaration, the doctor scrubbed in green stepped out of the room. The despondent mother jumped to her feet and towards the physician with the young man trailing her.

"She has regained her consciousness," said the doctor, a warm but cautious smile tugging at her lips.

"Avantika, my dear child!" Anuradha's heart swelled with relief as she heard the news, but her mind raced with a myriad of questions. "Can she talk? How is she? She is fine, isn't she?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Abhay's breath stilled waiting for the answer. He knew from his past experience with his mother that consciousness did not always indicate a better prognosis. She had a sudden bout of lucidity a few hours before she passed, and Abhay chose to err on the side of precaution.

The doctor glanced at the anxious mother, who had been sitting quietly in the corner from the past few hours, her face a mask of fear and worry. "She is still a bit groggy, but we expect her to make a full recovery," she assured them.

"Oh, thank God!" remarked Anuradha, joining her palms in surrender. "Can... can I meet her?" she asked.

The doctor nodded, her smile now full of warmth and reassurance. "Of course, you can. Please follow me." She led the way to Avantika's room, and Anuradha moved slowly, as if walking on air.

Abhay almost followed the mother on an impulse, but he steadied himself in place. The mother and daughter duo deserved their privacy and he did not want to infringe upon a vulnerable moment for the woman he cherished.

Anuradha gasped in surprise and delight at the sight of her daughter looking alive and alert once again. "Avantika!" she cried, rushing to her side and taking her hands.

"Please exercise caution. She has multiple fractures, including skull fractures. Be careful and refrain from giving her any oral feeds until we have cleared her for oral intake," the doctor warned.

Anuradha nodded solemnly, her eyes welling up with tears of relief and gratitude. "I will be as gentle as I can be," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor left them alone to embrace each other, their faces wet with silent tears of joy and fear. Abhay stood in the doorway, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions - relief for Avantika's recovery, guilt for his past mistakes, and determination to secure justice for Avantika and InnoVault.