Shubman checked his reflection in the mirror for the fifth time, adjusting his clothes nervously. Noor had never cared much about his appearance, but today, he wanted her to look at him a little longer, to take in his features and even compliment him. As he fiddled with his collar, he felt someone hug him from behind.

In the mirror, he saw his sister smiling warmly. "You look handsome, darling. Don't worry, she'll love you no matter what," she reassured him.

"No, Shahneel, I need to look perfect for her," Shubman pouted, smoothing out the creases at the end of his shirt.

Shahneel chuckled softly, adjusting his collar a bit. "Bubs, you've always been perfect in her eyes. Just remember that it's not about the clothes, it's about being there for her."

Shubman was about to whine about something again when Shahneel handed him a bouquet. "Now shut up and go get her," she teased.

Shubman smiled excitedly, rushing toward the door, but stopped abruptly and turned back. "Did you get her favourite?" he asked, a hint of nervousness.

Shahneel rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course I did. It's a mix of lilies and sunflowers. Now go, before you drive me crazy with your worrying."

Shubman was ready to dash out of the house when his mother stopped him. She pulled him close, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Go get her," she said with a warm smile, "and if you make her cry again, you'll face my wrath."

Shubman growled, scrunching his nose in mock annoyance. "You all say things like this, and sometimes I feel like she's the kid of the house," he complained.

His mother laughed, shaking her head. "That's because she's everyone's favourite," she teased.His mother added with a knowing smile, "And don't forget, you secretly enjoy seeing your family like her more than they like you."

Shubman chuckled and replied, "You've got a point. Now I have to go meet her. Can't wait!" He kissed his mother's cheek and rushed out the door, eager to make things right with Noor.

Throughout the car ride, Shubman giggled like a love-sick puppy, daydreaming about a future with Noor. He had returned from London the night before but waited until morning to meet her, not wanting to appear like a ghost when they reunited.

As he glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, he noticed a different spark in his eyes-one he hadn't seen since the accident.

Turning the corner, he finally arrived in front of Noor's house. His heart pounded with anticipation as if asking Kuljinder's Uncle for permission to take Noor on a trip.

Shubman was about to walk towards Noor's house when the door swung open. Noor stepped out, likely heading to the boutique. His heart did somersaults, almost ready to leap out of his chest, but he swallowed hard, needing that courage to speak to her.

Noor turned around and saw him standing on the porch. There was a flicker of concern in her eyes, but Shubman was captivated by her appearance. She wore a baby pink Punjabi suit that seemed to shimmer gently in the morning light. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, though a few strands had escaped, framing her face softly. The simplicity and elegance of her outfit, paired with the delicate way the loose strands fell, gave her a natural grace, like the fields of Punjab-vibrant yet serene, effortlessly beautiful.

Shubman moved towards Noor, lost in the moment and oblivious to everything around him. He was so focused on the joy of finally being near her that he didn't notice her swaying unsteadily. As he extended his arms, ready to pull her into a warm embrace, he was caught off guard when Noor's body suddenly gave way. Her eyes closed, and she toppled into his arms, her head resting gently against his shoulder.

Shubman's heart raced as panic gripped him. He quickly steadied Noor, his hands trembling as he cradled her in his arms. "Noor! Noori, are you okay?" he asked, his voice trembling with concern. He gently shook her, his eyes wide with worry, trying to assess if she was alright. The sight of her limp body in his arms left him feeling helpless and scared, the happiness of the moment abruptly replaced by fear.

Seeing Noor unresponsive, Shubman's panic intensified. He shouted urgently, "Aunty! Uncle! Come quickly!" as he lifted her in a bridal carry, his arms supporting her carefully but firmly. His heart pounded, each second feeling like an eternity as he waited for Noor's parents to arrive, hoping desperately that he hadn't come too late.

Noor's parents rushed outside, their faces etched with worry. "Get in the car!" Shubman urged, his voice strained. "We need to get her to the hospital."

Mumma Bajwa quickly settled into the back seat with Noor, while Shubman took the wheel, his hands shaking as he gripped it tightly. Noor's father sat beside him in the passenger seat. Shubman's mind raced with worry, his heart heavy with the hope that it wasn't something serious. As he drove, every jolt and turn felt magnified, and all he could think about was reaching the hospital as fast as possible.

The drive to the hospital felt endless. Shubman's hands trembled on the steering wheel, and he could barely focus on the road ahead. Noor's father kept glancing back at her, worry etched on his face, while Mumma Bajwa held Noor's hand gently, whispering soothing words.

Shubman's thoughts were a whirlwind of anxiety and regret. He replayed the moment Noor collapsed over and over in his mind, trying to understand what went wrong. The streetlights blurred past, and the steady hum of the engine seemed like a cruel reminder of how helpless he felt.

When they finally arrived at the hospital, Shubman rushed to the emergency room with Noor in his arms. He set her down on a stretcher as the medical staff hurried over. Her parents followed close behind, their faces pale and anxious.

Shubman's heart pounded as he stood aside, trying to keep himself together. He watched the doctor's work, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt and fear. He wanted nothing more than for Noor to open her eyes and tell him everything would be alright.

Shubman stood alone in front of the door of the emergency room, his eyes fixed on Noor through square glass on the door. Her parents had sunk into chairs behind him, their expressions a mix of worry and exhaustion. Papa Bajwa was consoling Mumma Bajwa, his hand resting on her shoulder as he tried to stay strong.

Leaning his forehead against the glass, Shubman let a few tears escape as he took in Noor's pale skin, which reminded him of Draco Malfoy but even more drained. Her eyes were shadowed with dark circles, and she looked exhausted and fragile. This was not the reunion he had imagined; it wasn't supposed to be like this.

He saw the doctor administering an injection to Noor, and he turned away, unable to watch. His gaze landed on Papa Bajwa, who was glaring at him with anger. Papa Bajwa's voice was firm, "Once Noor wakes up, we need to talk."

Shubman slumped into the nearby chair, his face buried in his hands. The cold metal felt alien against his warm skin, contrasting with the turmoil inside him. He wondered why, just once, he couldn't catch a break in love. Why did fate have to be so cruel, snatching away every bit of happiness he managed to grasp? It was as though a shadow had loomed over every moment of joy he tried to build with Noor.

As he sat there, the harsh fluorescent lights flickering above, he thought about the countless moments they had shared-each one a thread in the tapestry of their relationship. The way Noor had once smiled so brightly, making everything seem possible. Now, that same smile was marred by the worry of her current state.

Shubman felt a knot of frustration twist in his chest. His fingers clenched the armrests of the chair, and he closed his eyes, trying to summon the strength to face whatever came next. He thought about how he had always envisioned their future together, full of laughter and love, and how quickly it could all be overshadowed by the present crisis.

He silently pleaded with the universe, hoping for a reprieve, for once to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The weight of unanswered questions pressed heavily on him, and he felt an ache deep in his soul, wishing he could rewrite the narrative of their lives.