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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sᴏɴɢ ᴅᴇᴅɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴊᴇᴇɴᴀ ᴊᴇᴇɴᴀ
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The dim hallway of the hospital's trauma floor was confined into a gloomy atmosphere. Doctors and nurses in royal blue scrubs and off-white lab coats were scattered in each corner, assisting and saving patients. On the other side, family members and visitors patiently awaited hopeful news.
A broken soul was seated on the cool metal chair, hoping and praying for the survival of her husband. Ruhbal was utterly broken; seeing Asfandyar battling between life and death, she had never expected any of this to happen.
Learning the truth about her brother's death was a bitter pill to swallow; she had never thought the man she called Baba all her life would be not only her uncle but also the murder of her brother.
The life she once knew had changed in a matter of minutes; nothing could've ever prepared her for the revelations she learned in the past forty-eight hours.
She had many questions running through her mind; questions about her birth-father, questions about why her mother hid the biggest truth of her life, but at that moment, none of that mattered; all she wanted was Asfandyar alive.
Ruhbal could never imagine her life without him; he was a breath of fresh air in her chaotic life and the sole reason she was breathing. Losing him was something she wasn't prepared nor ready for, but she knew in her heart that her prayers would be answered. Her Asfand will survive, and they will live the life they both truly deserve.
It had been five hours since the trauma surgeons had taken Asfandyar up for surgery; each hour was weighing in on Ruhbal's heart like a giant sword. She was constantly staring down at her hands, twisting and knotting them as if doing so would hold back the turmoil within her.
Involuntarily her right hand gently caressed the dainty white gold chain on her neck, which rested gracefully above her lavender-blue blouse. A tender smile appearing on her rosy lips, remembering the beautiful memories associated with this precious piece of jewelry she owned.
Flashback.....
At the earliest dawn of day, the London city airport was serene as ever; the usual hustle and bustle of the infamous airport surprisingly was moving with ease. The white porcelain floors were squeaky clean, reflecting the early morning rays.
Asfandyar was coming back home after graduating from the University of Cambridge. He had completed his higher education in Business administration and was all set to start up his own marketing company.
