chapter 22

As Suhas entered the hospital room, he saw her sitting up in bed, her eyes open and full of life. Tears welled up in his eyes, and the overwhelming wave of emotions nearly drove him back out the door. He didn’t deserve to be in the presence of the daughter he had nearly destroyed. The realization of his actions, the weight of his pride, and the pain he had caused were unbearable. He took a step back, his hand trembling on the door handle, ready to retreat. But before he could take another step, he felt a gentle touch on his back—a familiar, loving embrace that he had longed for in his darkest moments. Shrii’s arms wrapped around him, her touch filled with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. She held him as though she was the one offering comfort, not the other way around. Her touch was tender, forgiving, and it tore at the last remnants of his composure. His breath caught in his throat, and he stood there, trembling. How could she forgive him? How could she still love him after everything he had done?“Daddy,” her voice was soft, almost like a whisper, but it pierced through his heart. “Are you angry with me?”At her words, something broke inside Suhas.The years of guilt, the regret, the sleepless nights—they all came crashing down, and he couldn’t hold it back any longer. He turned and pulled her into a tight embrace, tears streaming down his face as he whispered, “No, Shrii. No, I’m not angry. I’m so, so sorry. Daddy is so sorry.”He sobbed into her shoulder, the weight of his emotions finally too much to bear. Every tear he shed was an apology, every breath a plea for forgiveness. He couldn’t find the words to express the depth of his remorse, but Shrii’s embrace didn’t waver. She held him close, as if she were the one offering solace.Shrii’s eyes, though still weary, held a quiet strength.She had woken up in a world that had changed so much while she slept, but she had survived. The years lost, the pain endured, it had all left its mark, but she was alive, and that was what mattered now. As Suhas held her, his mind flooded with memories—of her first steps, her laughter as a child, the way her eyes used to light up when she talked about her dreams. He had nearly lost her, and he would never forgive himself for the part he played in her suffering. But in that moment, as he held his daughter, Suhas knew that no amount of apologies could ever make up for what he had done. The hurt and the scars would always be there, but he vowed to spend the rest of his life trying to heal the wounds he had inflicted.