Chapter 34 of 45

33. Confession Between Beeps and Breaths 💓

Unplugged Hearts (Abhiru )1,712 words~9 min read

A/N: The last two chapters were heavy and excruciating for me to write as it must have  been for you guys to read, but today calls for some joy!

I’m publishing this chapter early to celebrate India’s incredible victory—what a match!

It truly made my day, and if you’re not already celebrating, I hope this chapter brings you a little cheer.

Happy reading! 🎉💙 and don’t forget to shower votes and comments.

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The hospital corridor was eerily silent, save for the occasional beeping of machines from the ICU. The tension in the air was thick, each passing second stretching painfully for those waiting outside.

Then, finally, the doctor stepped out.

Everyone shot to their feet, eyes filled with desperation and fear.

“The procedure went well,” the doctor informed them. “Abhir is stable now, but the next 24 hours are crucial. He will remain under observation. He’s still sedated and will be unconscious for a few hours"

A collective sigh of relief echoed through the corridor.

Abhira clutched Ruhi’s hand, tears spilling down her cheeks, while Ruhi pressed a hand to her chest, exhaling shakily.

Charu let out a deep breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding, her fists unclenching.

“Can we see him?” Abhira asked urgently, her voice trembling.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, but not too many people at once.”

Without hesitation, Ruhi and Abhira rushed inside, eager to see him.

Charu took a step forward instinctively but stopped just as quickly.

Instead, she turned away, her feet carrying her to the small temple inside the hospital.

The tiny space was dimly lit, the soft glow of a diya flickering in front of the idol.

Charu stood there, staring at the deity, her fingers pressing together as she whispered a silent prayer.

And she had meant every word.

"Thank you for bringing him back," she murmured, her voice breaking. "For letting him fight through. For keeping him alive."

That was all she could manage.

A simple, heartfelt gratitude.

For bringing him back.

For letting him fight through.

For keeping him alive.

She blinked away the moisture in her eyes, exhaling slowly before turning away.

Just as she stepped back, she sensed someone right back.

Her father, Sanjay.

Her spine stiffened automatically, the old instinct to shrink in his presence rising.

But this time, she didn’t lower her gaze.

She met his eyes, unwavering, waiting for him to speak.

Sanjay’s expression was unreadable, his sharp gaze assessing her. "What are you doing here?"

Charu arched a brow.

Before he could pry further, her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen—Mishra, Abhir’s organizer.

The call kept ringing, insistent.

She sighed and switched off her phone.

Sanjay frowned. "Why didn’t you answer? That was our client."

Charu’s lips curled into a humorless smile. "Because right now, he is isn’t my priority. I'm here for Abhir. I’ll talk to Mishra ji later."

His frown deepened. "This isn’t how professionals handle things. You don’t just ignore work calls—"

Charu snapped, her voice carrying a bite that startled even her. "I'm an adult, I can make my own choices, Papa. If you have a problem with that, it's yours to deal with, not mine."

Sanjay’s expression darkened but he let it go for now and said instead. "Now since Abhir is out of danger, I’m heading home. I’m taking everyone back. I came to call you along."

Charu crossed her arms. "I’m staying back here. I’ll go home with Armaan Bhaiya and Abhira Bhabhi."

His eyes flashed with disapproval. "What's the need? You think I’ll allow that?"

"I wasn’t asking for permission."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, her heart pounding, but her steps steady.

For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel like she was cowering under her father’s shadow.

By the time she returned back to the hallway, Ruhi and Abhira and the goenkas were stepping out of the ICU, their eyes red-rimmed but relieved.

Armaan, who had been standing nearby, turned towards the elders and insisted, “You should all go home and get some rest. I’ll stay with him tonight.”

“No, Armaan. We can’t leave him like this,” Manish objected immediately.

Swarna nodded in agreement, concern etched deep into her face.

Armaan, however, was firm. “Sir please. You need to rest. He’s stable now. You staying here won’t help him, but exhausting yourself will only make things worse.”

After much convincing, he finally got them to agree, though not without a few reluctant sighs.

But Ruhi and Abhira refused to budge.

“I'm staying” Ruhi declared stubbornly.

Abhira nodded, equally resolute. “I’m not leaving him.”

Charu, standing silently in the background, finally spoke. “I’ll stay too bhaiya”

Armaan let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. You three at least  come with me and eat something now that we know he’s okay.”

Charu quickly shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I had a juice earlier.”

Armaan narrowed his eyes, but before he could argue, she added, “You should take Abhira and Ruhi bhabhi to eat, though.”

After a brief pause, Armaan exhaled and nodded. He felt strange about Charu’s behavior—she and Abhir had never truly gotten along, and yet, she was willing to stay. It was unexpected.

But knowing better than to push his sister now, he simply said, “Alright. We won’t take long.”

As they walked away, Charu walked towards the ICU, leaning against the glass door.

The night felt long, the weight of unspoken emotions settling over her.

But for the first time in a long while, she felt no confusion about where she wanted to be.

She was exactly where she needed to be.

The weight of everything settled heavily on her chest.

She wanted to see him.

She wanted to go inside, sit beside him, hold his hand, and tell him how terrified she had been.

She hesitated for a second before pushing the door open.

The dim lighting inside made everything look more solemn.

The rhythmic beeping of the monitors was steady, but the sight in front of her made her breath catch.

Abhir lay on the hospital bed, an oxygen mask over his face, multiple bandages and stitches, wires attached to his body.

His ever-confident, cocky self looked so fragile in that moment, so unlike the man who could stand against the whole world with nothing but his arrogance.

She had spent all this while pretending she didn’t care, telling herself that Abhir was just another spoiled celebrity, that his presence or absence made no difference to her life.

But the sheer terror she had felt in those hours when he had been slipping away had shattered that illusion.

Something hurt inside her seeing him like this.

Slowly, she stepped closer, her heels clicking against the sterile floor.

She stopped right beside him, staring down at his face, waiting for those eyes to open, waiting for some snarky remark about how bad she looked after crying.

But nothing came.

Just silence.

Her fingers trembled as she reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead which was bandaged.

She let out a shaky breath.

"You look awful" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Not that you were ever a sight for sore eyes, but this..."

Her lips trembled. She exhaled shakily, her guard slipping.

"You scared everyone, you idiot." She swallowed hard.

"You scared me."

"Why do you always have to be so reckless?"

Her throat tightened.

She looked away, blinking rapidly, before looking back at him, letting her guard down in a way she never had before.

"I don't know when it happened, or how, or why." She let out a weak laugh, shaking her head.

"But somehow, you became important to me Abhi."

Her fingers curled into the blanket covering him.

"I don't even know why I'm feeling this way," she admitted softly.

"I don't even like you... at least, that's what I keep telling myself."

Her chest rose and fell unevenly.

"I hate it."

Her voice cracked as she laughed again, bitter and soft all at once.

"I hate that you affect me so much."

"I hate that I look for you in every room."

"I hate that I can look through  you so well yet pretend to misjudge you always."

"I hate that I care for you-more than I should, more than I want to."

She swallowed hard, her eyes welling up.

Her lips trembled.

"But most of all... I hate that I'm scared." She exhaled shakily, gripping the bedsheet tightly.

"Scared that when you wake up, I'll go back to pretending like none of this matters."

"That I'll act like I don't care when I do."

"That I'll keep running from something that's already caught up to me."

"But I don't want to run anymore Abhi..."

Her fingers hovered over his, hesitant, before she finally let them rest there-lightly, as if afraid he would disappear.

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision.

"Tonight, when I saw you like this, I realized something."

A tear slipped down her cheek, landing on their joined hands.

"I realized... My life wouldn't  be the same without you in it."

The confession felt like ripping open a wound she had been ignoring for far too long.

"I don't want to admit it, Abhir, but you make me feel safe. You make me feel, period.

And I hate it because it means you have a part of me that I never wanted to give to anyone."

Her eyes burned as she finally, finally let the words slip-words she had never admitted, not even to herself.

"A..Abhir Sharma"

"I think I'm falling for you."

Her voice was barely a whisper, a secret too raw to say out loud.

For the first time, she allowed herself to truly feel it.

She exhaled shakily, pressing her forehead lightly against their hands.

"So if you ever think of pulling such stunts again or try leaving me... I swear, I'll assassinate you myself."

She stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, heart vulnerable for the first time in years.

And just as she was about to pull away.

A faint pressure tightened around her fingers.

Her eyes snapped up.

Abhir's fingers had curled slightly around hers.

Her breath hitched.

Did he hear her?

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