"Khushi! Wake up dammit!" He screamed as he rushed to her side and tried to make her regain her consciousness, because if she had lost her consciousness completely then she could go into coma.
He emptied a glass of water onto his hands in a hurry to splatter it over her face in a hope to make her come back. She was shivering, groaning in pain but her eyes did not open. Panic gripped his heart more than sorrow of his unborn's death. He had already lost the life of the one who would address him as father but he was determined to free Khushi from the callous state of coma.
He pulled his phone out as he was trying to rub his hands against Khushi's rapid cooling palms and called for the ambulance.
"Khushi, Khushi, KHUSHI! Please wake up! You cannot lose yourself so easily!" begged the man, who had never bowed down in front of anyone. He knew that he would never be able to forgive himself if he let something happen to her, who was his responsibility, the one who had been sacrificed on the altar of their families' happiness.
"Chotte! Kya..?"
Anjali's words died on her lips as she eyed the bloodied body of Khushi and her brother recklessly trying to rejuvenate her to awareness. She ran to Khushi's other side, realizing the gravity of the situation, and began rubbing Khushi's soles.
"How long do these bloody idiots take to arrive?" cursed Arnav under his breath as he called the ambulance again. He would have taken her to the hospital himself if he was sure enough to carry her but the extent of her bleeding had compelled him to wait for the ambulance to arrive with blood arranged.
"Chotte, calm down! Khushiji will be alright! Nothing will happen to her," assured Anjali, rubbing Khushi's soles as fast as she could.
Arnav felt like hurling something off the table at his sister. He thought maybe if not for the stress she had been put through by his sister and grand-mother, they would not be unfortunate enough to witness that moment.
After what seemed like eons, the ambulance had finally arrived and Khushi was rushed into it. Arnav could not help but feel more miserable than he already felt when Khushi let whisper leave her lips,
"Mera Baccha..Mujhe Mera Bachcha Chahiye.."
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Leelavati Hospital,
To add to the list of misfortunes, Dr. Singh was unavailable as she had gone to attend a conference. It also meant that Khushi was in hands of a doctor who barely knew about her case, but his money and reputation meant that she would receive the best care irrespective of the doctor attending to her.
"How is Khushi, Doctor? Is she alright?" questioned Arnav in a hurry as the doctor walked out of the Intensive Care Unit.
"She is yet to regain her consciousness, Mr.Raizada. But she is out of danger. She was brought here on time. Any more bleeding, her situation would have been more critical than she was, when brought here. She will be up in a few minutes. You can take her home tomorrow morning but I am sorry for your loss, Mr.Raizada. There was no way we could have saved your child," said the doctor as he expressed his regret.
Truth to be told, he was astounded by Arnav's question. The relatives of pregnant lady usually asked how the unborn was but the man standing in front of him had only bothered to ask about the woman.
"I am more glad that Khushi is fine than the loss, Doctor. There is nothing anyone would have done to save the child but she could be saved and that is all I wanted. Thank you so much," thanked Arnav, as he finally let the breath he was holding unconsciously.
"My pleasure, Mr.Raizada. But I am worried that your wife might not take the news well. She had been muttering about her child, even under the effect of high-dose sedatives. She would be shattered but I am sure that with your care and concern, she would be fit and fine soon. I will take your leave now. I will be available as and when required. Good night," greeted the doctor as he walked past Arnav.
Arnav Singh Raizada, on the other hand, was numb to say the least. He had myriad of thoughts, each with a different shade of emotion painted over, running in his tumultuous mind. He had not considered Khushi's turmoil over losing her child. He was aware that she was growing attached to the unborn but to love unconditionally enough to murmur about the same even when her body had succumbed to the power of tranquilizer was just too surreal.
The doctor's way of addressing her as his wife surely did not help his situation. The contract had broken the minute she had miscarried. She was no longer his contracted wife, he was no longer her employer. He knew that there were unknown strings, arising straight from their heart, which bind them together but he was left with no answers when he questioned himself about their relationship.
"Sir, Ma'am Ko Hosh Aa Gaya Hai. Aap Chahe Tho Unn Se Mil Sakte Hain," said the nurse, pulling Arnav out of his thoughts.
They were not friends, definitely not husband and wife, they were not colleagues, not anymore. What were they? How would he console her inconsolably wrecked heart?
His feet guided him towards her even before he realized it. He hated the vision which waited for him. A very pale and weak Khushi, surrounded by machines and blood getting transfused, she looked the exact opposite of the woman whom he had known from the past few days, where the happiness of fulfilling her passion and her pregnancy glow made her twice as exquisite as she already was.
"Khushi..."
His whisper made Khushi turn her attention onto him and her vulnerable eyes reflected the broken soul of hers.
"Mr.Raizada, Mera Bachcha Theek Tho Haina. Usse Kuch Hua Tho Nahi," she demanded eagerly as she tried to rise from her lying position as Arnav rushed to her aid. He arranged the pillows in a way to reduce her discomfort and to aid her to sit. He could not help but notice the way her hands involuntarily went towards her abdomen protectively.
"Boliye Mr.Raizada. Aap Kuch Bolte Kyun Nahi?" she questioned once again only to be unanswered by him. Her pain, the blood, the cramps were a giveaway but she chose to acquaint herself with denial.
"Arnav Singh Raizada, why don't you speak out? Answer to my question!" she shouted, but her tone was pleading and her eyes were begging him to prove her wrong.
"You have miscarried, Khushi. I am sorry," he answered as sobs erupted from her mouth upon the revelation.
Unknown feeling blossomed in his heart and compelled him to pull her into his arms to share her pain. His one hand cradled her head while the other caressed her back reassuringly. Her warm and stinging tears seeped through his shirt while her whimpers pierced right through his cold demeanor.
What did the future hold for them?
Edited by ..AgniJyotsna.. - 7 years ago
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