The days had stretched into a blur of endless waiting. It had been over two weeks since Nandini had fallen into her coma, and the hospital room had become a second home for everyone who loved her. Each day, the same familiar faces filed in and out, all trying to keep their spirits up, trying to keep the hope alive that Nandini would open her eyes.

Every morning, Mahir brought Vishakha to the hospital, and each time she saw her daughter lying so still, it broke her a little more. Vishakha would sit beside Nandini, holding her hand, her voice trembling as she spoke softly about Nandini’s childhood, how she used to chase after butterflies in the garden, or how she used to refuse to go to bed without hearing a story. But she couldn’t stay long. The sight of her baby lying there, unresponsive, was too much to bear. She always left with fresh tears in her eyes, her heart heavy with the ache of helplessness.

Soha, too, visited regularly. She never knew Nandini personally, but guilt gnawed at her relentlessly. She knew she was partly responsible for this, and she wanted, no, needed, to make amends. Soha would sit at Nandini’s bedside, her voice filled with remorse as she spoke to her about everything happening around her.

“Nandini,” she would whisper, “everyone’s waiting for you to wake up. I know we never met, but I promise, I’m here. I’m sorry for everything. I… I wish I could take it all back. Please, just wake up.”

Manik was always there, though he never spoke when others were in the room. He remained glued to Nandini’s side, refusing to leave. He ate when forced to, and slept in short bursts when exhaustion overtook him, but his eyes never left her for long. He didn’t speak to her in front of anyone, but at night, when the room was still and it was just the two of them, Cabir and Mukti had overheard him whispering softly to her. His voice was tender, filled with a vulnerability he never let others see.

“Please, Nandini,” he would say, his voice barely audible, “you have to wake up. I don’t know how to do this without you. I need you. I… I can’t lose you.” His hand would tighten around hers, his head bowing as he fought back the tears that seemed to be a permanent fixture in his eyes now.

Everyone knew he was suffering, but he kept his grief bottled up, allowing himself to break only when he was alone with her.

On this particular day, Soha had just finished her visit with Nandini. She had talked about random things, trying to keep the conversation light, though guilt weighed heavily in her voice. As she made her way out of the hospital room, she collided with Navya in the hallway. Navya was just arriving, carrying Nandini’s favorite flowers.

Soha stepped back awkwardly, her eyes meeting Navya’s. She forced a small smile, but Navya’s expression was cold, her lips pressed into a tight line as she moved to walk past her.

“Navya, wait,” Soha said quickly, reaching out to stop her. “I wanted to ask how you’re doing.”

Navya turned slowly, her eyes sharp and filled with suspicion. “I’m doing what I need to do,” she replied, her voice edged with bitterness. “But I don’t think you care about that, do you?”

Soha frowned, taken aback by the harshness in Navya’s tone. “What? Of course, I care. I… I’m here for Nandini, for Mom, for all of you.”

Navya let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms. “You can drop the act, Soha. It might work on Amma or others, but not on me. I can see right through you.”

Soha blinked in confusion, her brow furrowing. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you,” Navya spat, her words laced with venom. “I see what you’re trying to do. You think you can just waltz in here, pretend to care about Nandini, and take her place because you’re Amma’s ‘real’ daughter? Is that your plan?”

Soha’s face paled, and she took a step back, genuinely shocked. “Navya, that’s not… that’s not what I’m doing at all. I’m not trying to take Nandini’s place.”

Navya scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Right. Because it’s all just one big coincidence, isn’t it? You suddenly show up, acting all concerned, trying to be close to Amma and Manik now that Nandini’s in a coma. What, do you think you can just replace her? Let me tell you something, Soha—no one is going to forgive you for what you did. No one. Especially not Manik.”

Tears welled up in Soha’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them back, trying to maintain her composure. “Navya, I know I’ve made mistakes. I know what I did to Nandini is unforgivable, but I’m not trying to take her place. I’m here because I care. I’m here because I’m sorry.”

Navya shook her head, her lips curling into a sneer. “Sorry? Do you think sorry is going to fix this? Do you think sorry is going to bring Nandini back? You almost ruined her life, and now she’s lying in that bed because of you.”

“I never wanted this to happen!” Soha cried, her voice breaking. “I never wanted her to get hurt. She’s my sister, Navya. Maybe not by blood, but she’s still my sister. I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I swear, I’m not here to replace her. I just want her to wake up. I want her to be okay.”

Navya’s eyes narrowed, her anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “Nandini is Amma’s daughter. She’s been her daughter long before you ever showed up, adopted or not. You don’t get to claim her just because you share some DNA with Amma. You don’t get to come in here and act like you care when you’re the reason she’s in this condition in the first place.”

Soha was silent for a moment, her heart heavy with guilt. She had expected the anger, the resentment, but hearing it from Navya still stung deeply. “You’re right,” she whispered, her voice small. “I don’t deserve to be here. I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m trying. I’m trying to be better. I’m trying to make up for what I did.”

Navya stared at her, her face cold and unyielding. “You’ll never make up for this, Soha. Not to me, and definitely not to Manik.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked into Nandini’s room, leaving Soha standing there, tears threatening to spill over as she watched Navya disappear into the room. The weight of her guilt felt unbearable, but she knew deep down that Navya was right. No matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to undo what had happened.

Navya stepped into the hospital room, the faint scent of Nandini’s favorite flowers trailing behind her. A small, determined smile tugged at her lips, though the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. In her hands, she carried a fresh bouquet, the soft petals offering a touch of life in the otherwise sterile room. As she entered, her gaze fell upon Manik, who was sitting exactly where he always did—right next to Nandini, his hand gently resting on hers, his eyes distant, fixed on her pale face.

“Hey, Manik,” she greeted softly, hoping for a response, though she wasn’t surprised when none came. He didn’t even glance her way, lost in his own world of pain, his grief almost palpable.

Navya’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but she quickly composed herself. This wasn’t about her. It was about Nandini, and about keeping her spirits up, even if she couldn’t respond. Navya moved to the other side of the bed, placing the flowers in a small vase near the window, where sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow over Nandini’s still form.

“Look what I brought for you, Nandini,” Navya said, her voice gentle as she arranged the flowers. “Your favorite lilies. I know how much you love them. I figured they’d brighten up this room a bit.”

She sat down beside the bed, taking Nandini’s free hand in hers, and giving it a little squeeze. “You won’t believe how chaotic things have been at work. It’s like everyone’s running around like headless chickens, trying to get things done without you. Honestly, I don’t know how to manage and keep everything in order.”

Manik’s eyes flickered briefly, but still, he said nothing. Navya glanced at him, her heart aching for him as much as it did for Nandini. She wished he would say something, anything, but she knew he was in his own private hell, one she couldn’t reach.

“I was telling Alya the other day about my colleague who keeps asking me out and how you pranked him that day outside the club,” Navya continued, her tone deliberately light as if they were all just sitting in the living room together, like old times. “Nandini. You’re the only one who actually knows how to handle those creepy boys. I tried, but ended up running.”

She let out a small laugh, hoping it would make some sort of impact. Nandini lay still, her chest rising and falling with the mechanical hum of the ventilator, but Navya kept going. “And don’t even get me started on Cabir. He’s been trying to crack funny jokes but fails with those lame jokes.”

She shook her head fondly, trying to keep the mood light. “I told him you’d probably faint with those useless jokes, he is uncontrollable. I swear, you’re a magician when it comes to handling people, Nandini. You’ve always had that gift.”

Navya looked down at Nandini’s face, her expression softening. Her smile was still there, but there was an unmistakable sadness lurking beneath it. She gently stroked Nandini’s hand, her thumb brushing against her cool skin. “But seriously, Nandini, we’re all waiting for you to wake up. Everyone misses you so much. Mom, Dad, Amma, Cabir, Mukti, Abhimanyu, Dhruv, even Alya—she’s been in and out, checking on you. And Manik...”

Her voice trailed off, her eyes darting toward him. Manik was still silent, his gaze unblinking as he watched Nandini. Navya’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She knew how much he was suffering, how much he was holding back. He hadn’t spoken much in weeks, not even to Nandini when the others were around, but Navya had caught glimpses of him talking to her softly when he thought no one was listening.

“Manik won’t leave your side,” Navya said, her voice quieter now, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “He’s here every single day, every single night. He refuses to go home and refuses to take care of himself properly. But you know how he is. Stubborn as ever. He won’t rest until you wake up.”

Still no response from him. Navya sighed softly, glancing at the machines beeping steadily beside Nandini’s bed. “You know, Nandini, I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversations... about all the plans we made. You always talked about how excited you were for the future. You had so many dreams. And we’re going to make sure you get to live them, okay? We’re not giving up on you.”

Navya squeezed her hand again, as if willing some part of Nandini to respond, to show any sign of waking up. But Nandini’s eyelids remained closed, her face as serene and peaceful as ever.

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “We need you, Nandini. I need you. Manik... he needs you the most. So, please. Please wake up.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with emotion. Navya stayed like that for a while, just holding Nandini’s hand, her heart aching for her best friend, her soul sister.

As the night settled in, the hospital room remained quiet, except for the soft beeping of machines monitoring Nandini’s vitals. Manik sat on the chair next to her bed, as he had been every night since the accident, his eyes heavy with exhaustion but unwilling to leave her side. Cabir entered the room quietly, holding a small bag, his expression one of forced cheerfulness. He glanced at Manik, giving him a nod before turning his attention to Nandini.

"Hey, Nandini," Cabir greeted softly, making his way to the opposite side of the bed. He placed the bag on the small table beside her and took a seat. "Guess what? I’ve got another long, boring story about my day to tell you. And you better listen this time because I know you’ve been ignoring me lately."

Manik didn’t react, but Cabir could see the faintest shift in his posture. He always pretended not to listen when Cabir talked to Nandini, but Cabir knew better. Cabir turned his focus back to her, looking at her peaceful face, and smiled, though the sadness never left his eyes.

"So, today was one of those days where nothing really went right," Cabir started, leaning back in his chair as if settling in for a long conversation. "I was trying to get some work done, but then Mukti decided to design my clothes for the upcoming event—again. You know how she gets when she’s bored. She found this hideous orange fabric, Nandini. Can you imagine? Orange. I almost had a heart attack."

He chuckled softly, trying to keep the mood light, even though the atmosphere was heavy with worry. "I told her if she put that up, I’d never step out of my room. So, we compromised, and she went with something slightly less horrible. But I swear the Suit looks like it’s straight out of some tropical nightmare now."

Cabir paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on Nandini’s face. There was no response, no flicker of recognition, but he continued talking anyway. "Anyway, I know you’re probably tired of hearing about my terrible taste in clothes. So let’s talk about something else, something more fun. I found something today. Something that made me think of you."

He pulled out his phone and opened a pic in it. He was flipping through the photos before holding it up so Nandini could see.

"Look at this," he said, his voice softening. "It’s from when we were 2. You were so tiny back then. I mean, you’re still tiny now, but you were even tinier. And look at this one," he pointed to a photo of a younger Nandini with pigtails, holding a stuffed bunny while making a goofy face at the camera. "You were trying to make everyone laugh at our birthday party. It was adorable."

Cabir smiled fondly, the memories of their childhood flooding back. "I also found some video clips. Remember how you used to love dancing in front of the camera? You’d make Dad film you doing all these ridiculous dance moves. And then you’d insist on watching it back, over and over, as if you were some kind of movie star."

His voice cracked slightly, but he quickly recovered, refusing to let the emotion get the better of him. "I’ve been watching those videos a lot lately, you know? Every time I feel like I’m about to lose it, I just play one of those clips, and it makes me smile. You always had this way of making everything better, Nandini. Even when you were little, you were like this little ball of sunshine, always lighting up the room."

Manik, though silent, shifted slightly in his chair, his eyes still glued to Nandini, as if willing her to respond to Cabir’s words.

The room fell silent, except for the quiet beeping of the machines. Cabir reached out and took Nandini’s hand gently, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Please, Nandini. Please wake up. We all need you. I need you. And I’m not going to lose you again."

Tears welled up in Cabir’s eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. He squeezed her hand gently, hoping, praying for some kind of response. But Nandini remained still, her face peaceful, as if in a deep sleep.

Cabir wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and closed the photo album, setting it on the bedside table. He leaned back in his chair, his heart heavy but his resolve strong.

"We’re all waiting for you, Nandini," he whispered. "Don’t leave us hanging, okay?"

Manik, who had been silently listening, shifted slightly in his chair, his eyes still locked on Nandini. Though he didn’t say anything, there was a sense of shared pain between the two men—one that needed no words.

Cabir glanced at Manik, knowing his friend was barely holding on. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, and stared at the ceiling. The night dragged on, heavy with the weight of hope and fear, but Cabir continued to hold Nandini’s hand, refusing to let go.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Hope u all like the chapter.....

Few words for Manik....

Few words for Nandini....

When will Nandini wake up???

Is soha really guilty???

What were your favourite moments???

Thank u 🙂🙂

Love,
Kiara ❤️❤️