CHAPTER XXIII
"When the Heart Woke Up"
After spending a few quiet hours beside Sita's hospital bed — holding her hand, watching her sleep — I stepped out to speak with her doctor. My heart was still heavy with worry, but somewhere beneath it all, a quiet gratitude had started to bloom.
The doctor, a kind-looking woman in her forties with soft eyes and a warm presence, met me just outside the ward. She looked like she had something to say — not medically urgent, but emotionally important.
She smiled gently. "Vedehi, right?"
I nodded. "Yes… I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for her."
She chuckled softly, then looked at me with a gaze that held more weight than I expected. "You know… you're very lucky."
I blinked. "Lucky?"
She nodded, her voice turning tender — almost amused. "Yes. You're incredibly lucky to have someone like Sita in your life."
I didn't know what to say. My heart stilled.
She continued, "When she first regained consciousness, the first thing she asked for was you. And not calmly, mind you."
I raised my eyebrows slightly, curious and concerned.
"She was panicking," the doctor said, her tone now touched with emotion. "Crying, shouting… she wouldn't sit still. She kept saying your name — over and over again. 'Where is Ved? Why isn't she here? I need her.'"
A lump formed in my throat.
"She was scared," the doctor added, her expression softening. "But more than scared — she was devastated. It wasn't the pain from the accident that broke her… it was your absence."
I looked down, my eyes stinging. The thought of Sita waking up in a strange white room, dazed, hurt, and without me by her side… it crushed something deep inside me.
"She refused to eat, refused treatment," the doctor said, shaking her head with a faint smile. "We tried to calm her down, explain what had happened, but nothing worked. She kept asking for you like her heart couldn't function without hearing your voice."
I swallowed hard, barely able to process what I was hearing.
"And when she finally realized we didn't know where you were," the doctor went on, "she broke down. Cried so much, we had to sedate her just to give her body a chance to rest. That's how deeply she loves you, Vedehi. That's how much your presence means to her."
I stood there in silence, every word wrapping around me like a revelation I didn't even know I needed.
It wasn't just a marriage anymore.
Not just a deal.
Not just a name on paper.
Sita… loved me. Truly. Fiercely. Unapologetically.
And she needed me in a way I had never imagined someone needing me before.
The doctor gave me one last smile and gently patted my shoulder. "Take care of her, alright? Girls like Sita don't love easily. But when they do… it's forever."
I nodded, too full of emotion to speak, and watched as she walked away down the corridor.
For a long moment, I just stood there, still and stunned — my heart louder than my thoughts.
She had asked for me.
Fought for me.
Cried for me.
She wasn't just surviving in that hospital bed.
She was waiting.
For me.
And this time — I would never make her wait again.
"A Homecoming of Hearts"
After completing the discharge process and thanking the hospital staff once more, I finally brought Sita home. The journey from the hospital to our apartment was quiet, but not empty — her hand rested gently in mine the entire ride. We didn't need words right then; the silence between us was soft, comforting, and full of unspoken understanding.
As we entered the apartment, the door was already ajar — her mother and younger sister had arrived. The moment Sita stepped inside, her mother rushed forward and wrapped her in a trembling embrace.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she whispered, "Sita, please… never do something like this again. You have no idea how scared I was… how scared Shruti was… and more than anyone, how terrified Vedehi was."
Sita hugged her mother back tightly, her own eyes glistening. Then, without hesitation, she reached out and gently took my hand in hers. Holding it firmly, like an anchor in the storm, she looked at her mother and said softly — yet with so much emotion it filled the room:
"As long as Ved is with me, nothing can ever truly go wrong. She's not just my wife… she's my best friend, my strength."
Her words caught me off guard. I hadn't expected them. Not in front of her family. Not with such clarity.
My breath hitched. And in that moment, something inside me shifted.
A warmth bloomed in my chest. Happiness — the kind that's quiet, deep, and whole. I looked at Sita, and for the first time, I felt something I had only read about in novels — a place where love and safety met.
Her mother wiped her tears and smiled, clearly moved. Her sister clung to her side, fussing over her like a worried bird.
I stepped back for a moment, giving them the space they needed, even though I was still reeling from what she had said.
"I'll go make some snacks," I offered gently, my voice laced with affection. "You all sit and talk. I'll be right back."
Sita looked at me — her eyes filled with that same quiet adoration I'd seen back in the hospital — and nodded.
As I turned toward the kitchen, I could still feel her fingers brushing against mine, the warmth lingering.
And as I walked away, a soft smile played on my lips.
Because for the first time in a long time, this house didn't just feel like a place.
It felt like home.
To be continue....