Chapter 12
Aditya
Leaning against the corner of the room, my chest tightens as I watch Sana. Her fragile form glows in the dim light, and she’s gently stroking her mother’s head, holding her hand as though afraid to let go. A fierce protectiveness rises within me, the anguish on her face cutting into me.
I want to go to her, pull her into my arms and shield her from everything that hurts. I want to kiss away her worries, remind her that she’s not alone—that I’m here, always. But I can’t.
But one thing’s damn clear—those walls she’s built? They’re coming down. She’s not going to carry any more sorrow on her own. From this day forward, I’m right there beside her, through every storm, every pain. I won’t let her face a damn thing alone. Not on my watch.
Minutes pass, and I glance down at my watch. It’s ten at night. Sana hasn’t moved an inch.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I push off the wall and walk towards her. Reaching her, I place my hand gently on her shoulder. She flinches slightly before looking up, her tired eyes meeting mine. My heart twists painfully, aching for her.
“You need rest,” I murmur, nodding towards the sofa across the room.
She exhales sharply, almost like a scoff. “I can’t.”
But I don’t move, my gaze steady. “You can. And you will.”
Her lips part as if to argue, but then she just shakes her head and lets out a bitter laugh. “You really are stubborn.”
“I am.” I agree. “Come.”
She lets out another breath, half frustration, half surrender, before standing up.
I guide her to the sofa, my hand on her lower back, steadying her as if she might collapse.
When she sits, she pulls her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.
I flop down next to her, and the silence settles between us.
I continue to stay quiet, giving her the space I know she needs.
Then, barely above a whisper, she speaks.
“My dad… he died of a heart attack.”
I knew this already. The background check had told me everything there was to know about her. But I don’t say anything. I let her speak. Hearing it from her, in this moment, in her voice—it’s different. And I want nothing more than for her to share these things with me.
She stares ahead, lost in memories. “He used to pick me up from school every day. Rain or shine, he’d be there, standing by the gate, smiling like I was the best part of his day.
And now… now I can’t even remember the last words I said to him.
” Her voice cracks, and something inside me breaks as well.
I reach out, my fingers gently curling around hers as I say softly, “He was lucky to have you as his daughter, Sana.”
A single tear rolls down her cheek, but she doesn’t wipe it away. Instead, she looks at me with those sad eyes, and it nearly undoes me.
“I was the lucky one,” she whispers before pulling back into her usual stubbornness. “I know you said you’d stay until discharge, but honestly, I don’t think it makes sense. You should go home, get a good night’s sleep, and maybe come back in the morning.”
My jaw tightens. This woman really knows how to test my patience. She seriously thinks I’d leave her in this state? I lean forward slightly, my grip on her hand firm. “We had this discussion, and I’m telling you for the last time—get it through your stubborn head—I’m not going anywhere, Sana.”
Her lips press together, her fingers twitching in my hold. “You don’t have to do this. You’re not obligated to—”
“I want to,” I cut her off. “I’m here because I choose to be.”
She stares at me for a long moment, searching for something in my face. Maybe truth. Maybe comfort. Maybe something else entirely. But I don’t question it. Instead, I let her see it all—the sincerity, the concern, the depth of how much I mean it.
She exhales slowly, as if her exhaustion is finally outweighing the walls she’s been trying to keep up.
And then, for the first time tonight, she leans into me, her head resting gently against my shoulder.
A deep, shuddering breath escapes her, and without a second thought, I wrap my arm around her, pulling her in closer.
My hand moves in slow, soothing strokes along her arm, offering whatever comfort I can.
Her body, initially stiff, gradually begins to relax against mine, the tension melting away.
Minutes pass, and I feel her breathing slow down, becoming more even. She’s fallen asleep, but I don’t dare move. I’ve got her in my arms, and that’s exactly where she needs to be.
And strangely, I don’t even realize how this simple act of holding her in my arms brings me peace. The way her soft breaths brush against my skin—it’s as if everything inside me aligns. Like she was made to fit right here.
Sure, I was drawn to her the moment I laid eyes on her.
But seeing her like this—vulnerable, yet unbreakable—hits me with a whole new storm of emotions.
The way she loves her mom, the way she holds it all together even when she’s falling apart inside…
it’s powerful. And every damn second, she pulls me in deeper, making me fall for her in ways I never saw coming.
What gets me the most? Every day, I’m more certain that proposing to her was the strongest, most undeniable move I’ve ever made.
She’s perfect for me. Meant for me. Mine.
I bend down and press a kiss to the top of her head. She has no idea—but she owns me. Grinning, I pull her closer, breathe her in, feel her pressed against me. Before I know it, my eyes grow heavy and I don’t fight it.
The soft creak of the door has my eyes blinking, adjusting to the dull morning light filtering through the hospital window. Glancing down, I find Sana still lying peacefully in my arms.
A movement in the room catches my attention as I see a nurse walk in. At the same time, Sana stirs against me. I feel the subtle shift in her body, the way she tenses just before she slowly lifts her head, pulling away, her eyes blinking open.
“Thank you,” she says with a hesitant whisper.
I don’t respond, simply nod as I watch her. She brushes a hand through her hair and stands up, pausing for a moment before stepping toward her mother’s bed, where her mom is now wide awake, a smile playing on her lips as she watches us.
“You are awake,” Sana says softly.
“I am,” her mom smiles back as the nurse begins checking her vitals.
“When can I be discharged?” her mother asks the nurse.
Sana looks at the nurse, but before she can say anything, I step forward. “I’ll check with the doctor.”
Her mother’s tired eyes shift to me, silently thanking me. Sana glances at me, too, something unspoken in her gaze, but she just nods.
I turn and walk out of the room, making my way to the reception.
After a few minutes of discussion with the hospital staff and a quick call to the doctor, I get the confirmation—the discharge is approved.
The paperwork is processed quickly, and I make sure everything is in place before heading back to the room.
“She’s ready to go,” I say, holding up the discharge papers as I step into the room, my eyes locking with Sana’s.
A smile spreads across her face, and somehow, it makes my heart skip a beat.
I move to Sana’s mom’s side just as the nurse returns with a wheelchair.
“I don’t need a wheelchair, I can walk,” Sana’s mom grumbles, looking at the nurse with mild defiance.
“You need it, Mom. No arguing,” Sana says in her best teacher voice, making me grin. Her mom huffs as the nurse and I help her into the wheelchair.
“You don’t have to drive us. I can book a cab,” Sana says, looking at me. I don’t answer her; instead, I begin pushing the wheelchair forward. Sana huffs and falls into step beside me as we head out through the hospital’s front doors.
“Wait here. I’ll bring my car,” I say before walking to my car and driving it around to the front to pick them both up.
I help Sana’s mom out of the wheelchair and guide her towards the backseat while Sana climbs into the front.
“Where to?” I ask, glancing at Sana as I settle into the driver’s seat. Even though I’ve got her address, I wait for her to give it to me. No way I’m making her or her mom suspicious by asking how I found out. Can’t let my stalker side show. I’ve got to keep it clean.
Sana gives me her address, and after punching it into the GPS, I pull the car out of the parking lot.
The drive is quiet, with Sana sitting stiffly beside me, her arms crossed as she seems lost in her own thoughts. I steal a glance at her before shifting my attention back to the road. It takes everything I’ve got not to reach over, take her hand, and press it to my lips.
Her mom clears her throat, breaking the silence. “I must say, I didn’t expect to wake up and find my daughter using a handsome man’s shoulder as a pillow.” I almost choke on my own breath, my eyes darting to the rearview mirror.
Sana’s face immediately turns pink, and I can’t help but smirk, trying to suppress a laugh. Her mom, clearly enjoying the moment, adds, “I must say, Aditya, you’ve got quite the charm.”
Sana’s head snaps towards her mother in the backseat. “Mom, will you stop?”
“It’s just a little fun,” her mother chuckles before her tone turns serious. “Thank you, Aditya, for staying with my daughter… for handling everything. It means a lot.”
I glance at the rearview mirror and meet her warm gaze. “You don’t have to thank me, Aunty,” I say with an easy smile. “I wanted to be there.”
Her mother, however, isn’t done. “You know, a young man like you shouldn’t be spending his nights in the hospital. You should be out enjoying life.”
I glance briefly at Sana before looking at her mom in the rearview mirror and say, “This was more important.”
Her mom hums in approval. “I really like you.” Then, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, she adds, “You should come by the house sometime. To have lunch with us.”
Sana groans. “Mom, seriously?”
“Sana, stop fussing. It’s just an invitation for a meal, not a wedding proposal.”