I stood there frozen, my heart pounding in my chest, unable to breathe. My world had just collapsed around me. The air felt thick, and my vision blurred. It felt like my heart had stopped, and I could barely force myself to take a breath.

This can’t be happening. Not to him. Not to my Siddique.

The reality of his words hit me like a tidal wave. I felt an unbearable weight pressing down on me, suffocating me. Tears streamed down my face, and I felt an overwhelming urge to scream, but no sound came out. My body trembled as I fought to stay upright, feeling as if my legs might give out at any moment.

I can’t lose him. I can’t.

The thought of him lying injured, or worse, was too much to bear. I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Despair and panic caused through my veins, and I wanted to crumble to the ground and die right there.

Please, God, let him be okay. Please, let him be okay.

With trembling hands, I dialed his mother’s number, hoping for some miracle, some way to make this nightmare end. The phone rang and rang, and each second felt like an eternity.

Please answer. Please answer.

As I waited, my mind raced with thoughts of Siddique, our memories, our moments together. The idea of a future without him was too painful to contemplate. I had to see him, and I had to be with him. No matter what, I had to be there for him. I couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not ever.

I ran out of the park, desperate, and got into the first auto I could find, asking the driver to take me to the government hospital where they were taking Siddique. His mother didn’t pick up the call; maybe she was busy at work.

As I sat there, clutching my phone in disbelief, the thought of losing Siddique, even for a moment, sent a piercing pain through my heart. It was in this moment of sheer panic and desperation that I realized just how deeply I loved him.

I love him. Oh God, I truly love him.

The memories of our time together flashed before my eyes. His laughter, his smile, the way he always knew how to make me feel better. Every moment we had shared now felt even more precious, as if they were pieces of my heart.

The idea of not having him in my life was unbearable. It wasn’t just that he was my best friend, my confidant, my partner in crime. He was my everything. He was the one who understood me like no one else ever could, who accepted me with all my flaws and insecurities.

The weight of this realization was almost too much to bear. I had always known I cared for him deeply, but this fear of losing him brought my feelings into sharp focus. I loved him more than I had ever allowed myself to admit.

It wasn’t just a friendship or a budding romance. It was love—real, deep, and all-encompassing. The kind of love that scared me because it made me vulnerable, but at the same time, it gave me strength and hope.

I can’t lose him. I won’t lose him.

The fear and anxiety I felt were interwoven with this newfound clarity. I realized that the thought of a future without him was too painful to contemplate. He was the one I wanted to share my life with, to build a future with. The idea of him not being there, of not being able to see his smile or hear his voice, was tearing me apart.

As I dialed my mother’s number with trembling hands, I felt a surge of determination. I needed to be with him, to hold his hand and let him know that he wasn’t alone. I needed to tell him that I loved him, that I had always loved him, and that I would always be there for him. This realization filled me with a sense of urgency, a desperate need to be by his side.

Please, God, let him be okay. Please give me the chance to tell him how much he means to me.

The phone continued to ring, each second stretching into an eternity. My mind raced with thoughts of Siddique, of our past and the future I now so desperately wanted to share with him. The tears continued to flow, but amidst the fear and sorrow, there was a glimmer of hope.

I love you, Siddique. And I will fight for you, for us. I won’t let you go.

My mother finally picked up the call. "Naaz? Siddique," her voice trembled. She knew, which meant his mother knew too.

"He'll be fine." I cut the call. I wasn’t in the mood to talk with anyone. I just wanted to be with him. I prayed silently, with all my heart, that I would get the chance to tell him, to show him just how much he meant to me.

Hold on, Siddique. I’m coming. I won’t let anything happen to you.

As the auto halted outside the hospital, I quickly left the money on the seat and dashed inside like a mad person, screaming Siddique's name.

Reaching the reception, I frantically inquired about him, telling the receptionist about the accident.

“The patient had a head injury and significant blood loss. He was shifted to the operation theater,” she informed me, pointing in the direction.

Listening to her words, my world crumbled. The mere mention of the operation theater shattered my heart into a million pieces. My legs felt weak, and I could barely stand. The thought of him lying on an operating table, fighting for his life, was unbearable.

My worst fear was coming true right before my eyes. The fear of losing my loved ones had always haunted me, and now, with Siddique’s accident, it felt like that fear was ripping through my very soul.

I've always harbored a deep-seated fear of losing my loved ones, and now that fear has come true with Siddique's accident. The mere thought of life without him is unbearable, tearing at the very fabric of my heart. As my worst nightmare unfolds before my eyes, I'm consumed by a desperate, aching hope that he'll survive.

I followed the receptionist’s directions, running like a mad person through the maze of hospital corridors. Each step felt heavier as I approached the operation theater. Finally reaching outside, I lost my balance and collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh Allah, please keep him safe,” I prayed, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t lose him. I love him. I love him so much. Please, let him be okay.”

My heart ached with each passing second, the weight of my love and fear pressing down on me. I cried my heart out, confessing to the empty hallway what I had finally realized: that Siddique was the love of my life, and I couldn’t imagine a world without him. All I could do was pray and hope that he would come out of this safely.

I sat on the bench, tears streaming down my cheeks, silently praying for Siddique's safety. My heart felt heavy with fear and uncertainty, each passing moment seeming to stretch into an eternity.

Suddenly, my parents and Siddique's mother rushed towards me, their faces etched with devastation and sorrow.

"How is he? How is my Siddique?" His mother asked.

"I don't know. He is inside." That's all I could manage to say before I broke into another sob.

My father enveloped me in a tight hug, offering words of comfort and assurance. When my mother and his mother sat nearby, taking seats on the opposite bench of us.

"He will be alright, Naaz. He's strong, a fighter. He will be okay," my father whispered, his voice wavering with emotion.

"He will be alright?"

"Yes, he will be fine. Trust Allah," I clung to him, tears flowing unabated, desperately wanting to believe his words.

Please, God, please.

After what felt like an endless wait, the doors of the operation theater finally swung open. The doctor emerged, and I and the others hurried towards him, our hearts pounding with trepidation.

"How is he, doctor? Please tell us," I pleaded, my voice trembling with emotion.

The doctor's expression softened slightly as he delivered the news we had all been praying for.

"The operation went successful. He had a severe head injury and significant blood loss, but he's stable now. We've moved him to the ICU for observation. He'll need to be monitored closely for the next 24 hours," the doctor explained calmly.

Relief washed over me and our parents, tears of gratitude and relief replacing those of fear. I hugged my parents and Siddique's mother tightly, overwhelmed with emotions.

"Thank you, doctor. Thank you so much," his mother managed to say amidst tears.

My heart overflowed with gratitude for the miracle that had just unfolded before my eyes.

Thank you Allah SWT. Thank you for saving my Siddique.

After an hour of the operation, we were allowed to visit Siddique in the ICU one by one. First, his mother went in, then my mother. My father was busy speaking with the police to understand the details of the accident and determine who was at fault. Finally, it was my turn to see him.

Entering the ICU with a heavy heart, I felt an immense pain seeing Siddique lying unconscious on the hospital bed, clad in a hospital gown. His head was wrapped in a bandage, an oxygen mask covered his face, and needles pierced his body to administer medicine. The only sound in the quiet room came from the beeping of the heart rate monitor.

I walked slowly towards his bed, my steps heavy with emotion and my eyes filled with tears. Reaching his side, I took a good look at him. His skin was pale, almost lifeless. I quickly checked the monitor, the oxygen mask, and then his chest for assurance. The sight of his chest moving slowly, as if he were in a deep sleep, made me cry even more.

"Please wake up, Siddique," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I can't bear to see you like this. You mean everything to me."

I reached out and gently held his hand, feeling the coldness of his skin. "I was so afraid of losing you," I confessed, tears streaming down my face. "I love you, Siddique. I realized that now. I always have."

My voice cracked as I continued, "I'm so sorry for ignoring your feelings, for giving you pain. I was selfish and scared, and I pushed you away. I regret every moment of it."

My grip tightened around his hand as I leaned closer. "I’m sorry for teasing you about the kiss, for traumatizing you without even realizing it. Please forgive me."

I gently kissed his hand, my tears falling onto his skin. "I love you, Siddique. I need you to come back to me. I want to love you the way you always dreamed of. Please wake up so we can have the life we talked about."

After spending a few more minutes with him in silence, I left the room with a newfound determination. I knew now, more than ever, that life was short and unpredictable. I resolved to marry Siddique as soon as possible, wanting to make the most of our time together and cherish every moment we had.

The next day, we all sat in the waiting room—my parents, Siddique's mother, Rizwan, and I—hoping for Siddique to wake up.

Last night, I was determined to stay at the hospital with him, but my parents and his mother wouldn’t let me. Eventually, my father stayed while the rest of us went home. I was mad at them then, and I’m still mad now. I haven’t spoken to anyone apart from Rizwan since.

When Rizwan heard about the accident and Siddique being in the ICU, he took a family emergency leave from college. He had important classes and practicals, but he came running just to see his brother.

He arrived late this morning, around 11:30, and came directly to the hospital from the bus station without bothering to change or freshen up. He hasn’t gone home, eaten, or done anything since he got here.

Seeing his brother in that condition, Rizwan cried like a baby, hugging his mother. He loves Siddique deeply and sees him as a father figure. Siddique has always acted like a father to him, guiding him at every step.

"Rizwan, eat something," I offered, holding out some food.

"I’m not hungry, Naaz," he replied, refusing once again.

"Please," I pleaded, hoping he’d reconsider.

"Please don’t force me," he begged, his voice breaking. "Better you eat something. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday."

Sighing, I said, "I’m not hungry either."

He nodded in understanding, then pulled me close to sit beside him, hugging me tightly. "He’ll be alright, won’t he?"

I hugged him back, my voice trembling with determination, "Yes, Rizwan. He’ll be fine. He has to be."

After waiting for another hour, a nurse finally informed us that Siddique had regained consciousness. The news brought tears of joy and prayers of gratitude from everyone.

His mother immediately demanded to see him, and I wanted to go with her. The nurse informed us that the doctor needed to check him first, and then we could visit. Despite my desperation, I knew I had to be patient until the doctor gave the all-clear.

The doctor came out after half an hour and informed us that everything was fine and that we could meet Siddique once they shifted him to a private room.

“What the heck!” I pouted sadly, thinking I had to wait another half hour to see him. It will take them about fifteen to twenty minutes to move him and set everything up.

It took us exactly half an hour to enter the room where Siddique had been shifted. My desperate eyes fell on him. He lay on the bed, looking at us with empty eyes and no emotion on his face. He suddenly looked like a robot, devoid of expressions and feelings.

“Siddique,” his mother spoke first in a broken voice, seeing him like this—head wrapped in bandages, needles piercing his hands, and his skin pale.

“M-mom,” his voice was hoarse and slow.

Amina Auntie started to cry, running to him and hugging him. He wrapped an arm around her shaking body.

“I a-am fine,” I heard him say softly.

His mother didn’t reply, just kept crying while hugging him. Rizwan joined them, crying his heart out and complaining about how Siddique scared all of us. I couldn’t agree more. Seeing them, my parents and I also cried silently.

“Water,” Siddique whispered.

His one word was enough to get us all busy figuring out who would fetch it. His mother and Rizwan broke the hug, and Rizwan literally ran toward the water bottle along with me. In the end, I poured some water into a glass, and Rizwan went to give it to him.

I wanted to do it, but anyway. I’d see him last and feed him his food. Sometimes, good things are worth the wait. Plus, I needed some alone time with him to talk my heart out.

“Thank you, Rizwan.”

“You’re welcome, brother.” Rizwan handed the glass to his mother and helped Siddique lie back down.

After them, my parents met him while I waited for my turn. My mother cried hugging him, and so did my father. I hadn’t seen him cry this much in a long time. The last time he cried like this was when my grandmother died eight years ago.

Siddique finally looked at me with soft eyes and a small smile. My heart fluttered, my cheeks warmed, and butterflies danced in my stomach. I could feel my lips curve into a small smile, copying him.

“Won’t you come and see me?” His question made me emotional, and I quickly walked over, hugging him tightly and crying silently.

“Did you miss me?” he asked. I didn’t reply, just kept crying out of happiness.

“I missed you too,” he said, wrapping one arm around my body to hug me back. “Sadiqi alsaghir.”

My body froze at the name he called me. “Sa... Sadiqi alsaghir?”

“My little friend,” he explained.

I quickly composed myself and pulled away, breaking our hug. “I know the meaning, Siddique. But why did you call me that?”

Siddique looked confused. “Because I was hurt. Is this some kind of memory loss prank? I swear I’m going to kill you.”

“What the hell is going on here?” Rizwan asked from the couch, looking at his brother with fear in his eyes. His mother was sitting next to him, equally worried. My parents had gone home after meeting him to bring food for everyone.

“What?” Siddique asked, clueless.

Fear crept into my heart with all the negative thoughts. Had he forgotten I was his girlfriend? Did he forget our relationship? Did he forget that he loves me? That would be the worst.

“He’s your girlfriend, brother. Why would you call her that?” Rizwan asked, eyeing me.

My eyes were fixed on Siddique, trying to understand what was going on. Was he pulling a prank on me, or had he really forgotten about our relationship? Please don’t tell me he forgot that he loves me. I might just die.

“G... girlfriend?” His shocked reaction was enough to make me die a hundred times in less than a few seconds.

“Please don’t tell me you don’t remember,” his mother asked in a fearful voice.

“I...” The pause he took felt like ages, but what he said next left me heartbroken. “I don’t. Why would I have a girlfriend? You know I don’t like it.” His words were honest, meaning he wasn’t lying.

Both mother and son gasped in shock. “Oh my God!”

My head spun, and my vision went blank for a moment. I felt like I might faint, but I quickly composed myself to confront him.

“Please tell me you at least remember that you love me,” I begged.

He looked shocked. “Y... you know?”

I breathed a sigh of relief, thanking God. At least he still loved me. He just forgot about our relationship. It was bad, but we could start again. Or if he didn’t want to, we could still get married. That wouldn’t be a problem.

“Yes,” I nodded, holding his hand in mine.

“Do... do you...” He hesitated to ask if I loved him back, as his mother and Rizwan watched him intently.

I found it cute and finally smiled, admiring his red face and ears.

Aww! My cute baby.

“Let’s go out, Rizwan,” his mother said, taking Rizwan with her.

“Let me stay and see the drama,” Rizwan begged.

Dumb head!

“Naaz, are you really my girl...” Siddique started, but I shushed him, putting a finger on his lips.

“Don’t talk. Don’t feel guilty.” He looked guilty for forgetting about our relationship. “And don’t stress your mind about it, okay?”

He removed my finger. “But...”

“No buts, Siddique. I’m not mad at you. We’ve been in a relationship for the last two weeks,” I told him honestly.

“Do you... love me?” he asked, hesitating a little.

“No,” I lied.

He looked disappointed and hurt. “Then why were we in a relationship?” He was confused.

“Because of me,” I said truthfully. "I wanted you to make me fall for you."

“Obviously,” I looked at him angrily. “Sorry,” he apologized with a cute puppy face, melting my heart.

I smiled. “It’s okay.”

“So?”

“So?”

“So?”

“So?” It was getting awkward.

“Should we resume what we had?” He asked, feeling extremely shy with his red face.

I pretended to think about it for a moment, then nodded with a smile. “Yes.”

“Come here and hug me, zawjati aljamila.” I looked down at him in confusion at what he called me. “Come here and hug me, my beautiful wife.”

I quickly hid my face in his chest, feeling extremely shy and emotional, so I started to cry, hugging him again.

“Siddique?”

“Yes, zawjati?” I understood it meant wife.

“I love you,” I finally confessed my feelings to him. I couldn’t hold back after he called me his wife.

“I know,” he said, "your eyes told me," he held me close with both arms. “I love you more.” He finally said those magical words to me, making me cry even more and harder.

As we held each other, the realization of our love and the fragility of life hit me harder than ever. I knew, now more than ever, that I wanted to spend my life with him. No more waiting. No more hesitations. We would cherish every moment and never take each other for granted again.

••

The last part was very short so this one was a bigger. Compensation you know. ;)

Thank you ❤️