Author's POV:-
It was another day, seemingly ordinary, yet fate had its own plans.
Priti had just returned from college and was now buried in her books, while Anjali busied herself in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the night. The rhythmic sounds of chopping and the gentle simmer of curry filled the air—until a sudden, frantic voice shattered the calm.
"Mumma!!!"
Anjali flinched, her heart skipping a beat. She quickly wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and rushed out, her breath hitching when she saw Priti charging down the stairs, tears streaming down her face.
"Mumma, Mumma… Bhai ka call tha… woh… Pa… Pa…!" Priti's voice cracked as sobs wracked her body.
Anjali felt the ground slip beneath her feet at the mere mention of her husband’s name. A lump formed in her throat as her mind raced to the worst possibilities.
"Kya hua, bacha?! Tere papa ko kya?!" she demanded, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears.
"Woh… Mumma… Papa ka accident ho gaya hai… Unhe chot lagi hai… Bhai unhe hospital leke gaye hain," Priti cried, barely able to get the words out.
"Kya…?" Anjali whispered, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs. A cold dread seeped into her veins. Amit—her Amit. If something happened to him, she wouldn’t survive it.
Wiping away her tears with trembling hands, she forced herself to act. "Tu… tu jaldi se cab bula… main apna purse aur phone le aati hoon. Jaldi, Priti!" Her voice wavered, but her urgency was clear. She turned and sprinted upstairs, desperation fueling her every step.
Watching her mother’s retreating figure, Priti suddenly let out a small chuckle, her teary act dropping in an instant. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as a playful smirk tugged at her lips.
"I’m sorry, Mumma, for making you cry…" she murmured under her breath, guilt flickering for a mere second before being replaced by excitement.
"But Papa ko kuch nahi hua bas kaanch se unka haat cut gaya hain.. isliye tetanus lene hospital gaye hain … aap dono ko ek karne ke liye mujhe thoda jhooth bolna pada"
With that, she quickly wiped her fake tears and straightened herself, eager to witness the outcome of their little plan. After all, desperate times called for desperate measures—and if a small lie could bring her parents closer, then so be it.
As soon as the cab arrived, Anjali wasted no time. She hastily got inside, clutching only her purse and phone. She hadn’t even stopped to change out of her simple home saree, her mind solely fixated on one thing—Amit.
Priti, still playing her part, pretended to be shocked. "Aap aise hi chale jayenge??" she asked, eyes wide in feigned surprise.
Anjali shot her a teary glare, her voice trembling yet laced with frustration. "Ab kya time hai saree change karne ka?! Tere papa hospital mein hain… kya khabar hai, kuch pata nahi… aur tu chahti hai main saj-dhaj ke jaun?!" Tears streamed down her face, her breaths shallow and quick.
Priti flinched, shaking her head rapidly. "Nahi nahi, Mumma! Aap chaliye!"
Priti, still seated in the cab, blinked in disbelief. "Yeh meri mumma hain yah bullet train??" she muttered under her breath, watching her mother disappear inside.
Anjali’s vision blurred as endless tears streamed down her face. Her feet stumbled slightly as she rushed up the stairs, her heart pounding violently against her chest.
"Please, Bhagwan ji… Amit ko zyada chot na aaye ho… please, unhe kuch mat hone dena…" she whispered between sobs, her trembling hands clutching the railing for support.
Her mind raced with terrifying images—Amit lying unconscious, wounded, in pain. The thought alone sent another wave of anguish through her, making her legs feel weak. But she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop.
With every step, her desperation grew. She didn’t care about the curious glances from nurses and attendants as she rushed past them. All she wanted was to see him, to know he was okay.
On the other side, Amit sat silently on the hospital bed while a nurse carefully dressed the wound on his palm. He winced slightly but remained quiet.
Piyush, standing beside him with arms crossed, let out an exasperated sigh. "Kya karte ho na, Papa? Laga liya na ab chot?" he scolded, shaking his head.
Amit sighed, knowing well that his son wouldn’t stop nagging him about this. Just as he was about to defend himself, Piyush's phone pinged with a message.
Preeti: "Mumma upar aa rahi hain!!!"
Piyush's eyes widened as he read the text. He quickly turned to his father.
"Papa, aap yahi baithe rahiye… main kuch forms pe sign karke aata hoon." His voice was oddly hurried, but Amit simply nodded.
As soon as Piyush stepped outside, he muttered under his breath, "Patli gali se nikal le beta… yahi chance hai." He didn’t want to be there when his mother arrived in full-blown panic mode.
Meanwhile, the nurse finished her work and smiled. "Sir, dressing ho gayi hai. Ab kuch din ke liye is haath se koi kaam mat kariyega."
Amit nodded and was about to get up when—
"AMITTTT!!!"
A loud, desperate cry echoed through the room, making him freeze in place.
His head snapped toward the door, and there she was—Anjali.
Tears streamed down her face, her breathing was heavy, and her entire frame trembled as she stood there, looking at him like she had just seen a ghost.
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Just a girl who wants to make your standard high with my desi romance stories
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