ICU Room
The sun was just beginning to rise-streaking the world outside in soft oranges and shy pinks. But in here, in this room filled with beeping machines and whispered prayers, the light came from something else.
From the bed.
From him.
From the moment Arnav Singh Raizada finally opened his eyes.
She had stopped noticing the ticking clock.
Stopped blinking.
Stopped breathing fully-just in case it cost her even one second of noticing the moment his fingers moved.
So when they did? When his hand twitched against hers-like a hesitant hello from the edge of a storm-Khushi lifted her head with such suddenness, it almost hurt.
And then-
> Arnav (hoarse, dry as sand): "Water...?"
His voice.
Broken. Raspy. More breath than sound.
But it was his.
Her soul let out the first true breath it had taken in twelve hours.
> Khushi (gasping): "Oh my God-oh my-yes! Yes! I'm here, I'm right here-just stay awake, okay?"
She fumbled for the glass like it was sacred. Held it with both hands as she guided it to his lips.
> Khushi (gently): "Sip slowly. Not too fast. You've got a stubborn skull, but your body's been through hell."
He obeyed, eyes flickering open wider, blinking against the light-and then...
> Arnav (weak smile): "You're still yelling. That's a good sign."
She choked on a laugh.
A real one. Broken around the edges, but stitched together by relief.
> Khushi (tears falling freely): "You scared the stars out of me, Raizada."
She leaned in, brushing his hair gently back from his forehead with trembling fingers.
> Khushi (soft, fierce): "Don't ever do that again. Don't ever make me sit through a night like that. I will kill you myself next time."
> Arnav (barely audible): "You love me enough... to murder me?"
> Khushi (whispering): "More than jalebis. That should've warned you."
He smiled again.
Barely. But it reached his eyes.
And she melted into him, pressing her forehead to his, both of them breathing like the world had just begun again.
Outside the ICU
The nurse barely had time to say "He's awake" before the Raizada family launched like a missile.
Anjali rushed in first-rudraksha beads still clutched, tears falling freely now that the nightmare had cracked open to let morning in.
> Anjali (crying out): "Chhote!"
She flung her arms around him gently, careful not to disturb the wires.
> Anjali (whispering): "I told you. I told God. If He didn't return you to me, I'd never pray again."
> Arnav (raspy): "Then... thank God you're dramatic."
She laughed and sobbed into his shoulder all at once.
Behind her came Nani-walking slowly but with steel in her spine.
She pressed her forehead to his hand like he was both lost and returned.
> Nani (shaking, soft): "You terrified us, Chhote. But I see your mother in you. She would've done the same... to save someone she loved."
Arnav blinked.
Khushi slipped her fingers into his-silently telling him you're not alone in this anymore.
Then came Mami, looking like she'd survived twelve soap operas back-to-back.
> Mami (sniffing, loud): "Hamre gold chain! You lying here like some secondhand TV serial villain! You! The country still needs your anger!"
> Arnav: "I missed... your drama."
> Mami (wailing): "You should've missed the damn car instead!"
She looked at him for three full seconds
Then smacked his arm.
> Mami: "You Raizada ! Next time you want to die, take someone else's liver!"
Then, she burst into tears and cradled his foot like it was gold.
> Mami (sniffling): "You are my gold chain, bitwaa. My fashion king. No one can replace you."
> Arnav (blinking at Khushi): "Can someone note this? Manorama Maami has feelings."
They all laughed.
Even Khushi. Even Buaji, who peeked in muttering "Hai re Nandkishore!"
She plopped into the corner chair dramatically, mumbling threats to the driver's unborn grandchildren.
Aakash stood at the foot of the bed, quiet but steady.
> Aakash: "Welcome back, Bhai. Next time you want to play hero... give me a heads-up."
> Arnav: "You'd have taken longer. I had the better stride."
They exchanged a look. A brother's look.
Lavanya appeared last, trying to stay composed but mascara giving her away.
> Lavanya: "You idiot."
> Arnav: "Love you too, La."
> Lavanya (sniffling): "I was gonna throw a stiletto at your ghost if you died."
He chuckled.
Weakly.
But it was the most beautiful sound any of them had ever heard in last few hours.
The room now full.
Of people. Of prayers. Of breath again.
Arnav's hand still in Khushi's, thumb brushing her knuckles.
> Arnav (quietly, to Khushi only): "Next Diwali, let's avoid cars and exes."
> Khushi (smirking): "Next Diwali, let's just have jalebis."
He smiled.
Alive.
Loved.
Home.
The Raizada family gathered close.
Khushi curled beside him, her head on the crook of his shoulder.
The room pulsed with something unspoken but real.
Forgiveness. Future. Family.
Outside the window, the sun rose higher.
But inside that room?
Hope was already shining.
> Arnav (whispering): "Thread by thread... huh?"
> Khushi (smiling through her tears): "Always."
----
A newspaper lands with a thump on the cold marble floor outside the hospital room.
The scent of antiseptic floats in the air. But from the window, the sunrise spills in-soft orange and quiet pink, like hope tiptoeing into a room where love almost unraveled.
Nurse Reema, curious, glances down mid-shift, only to freeze mid-step.
🗞️ Headline: "Gupta Boutique x AR Designs: A Diwali to Remember"
🗞️ Sub-headline: From fashion's brightest night... to a moment that stopped hearts.
---
🖼️ PHOTO 1 (Top Half )
Caption: "Backstage Magic"
A grainy, zoomed-in photo.
Arnav Singh Raizada, tall and composed, in a black kurta. Khushi Kumari Gupta, radiant in her indigo saree.
They're backstage, laughing-his hand in hers. Her hand rests lightly over his chest, his gaze locked on her like the world doesn't exist.
📝 "Captured moments after her final walk, this candid image from the Gupta Boutique showcase now feels prophetic-two hearts in sync before the night turned fatefully still."
---
🖼️ PHOTO 2 (Bottom Half )
Caption: "Love in the Wreckage"
A blurry photo taken by a witness outside the boutique.
Arnav lies unconscious in Khushi's lap, blood at his temple, her hands desperately cradling his face.
Her expression? Shattered. Tear-streaked. Screaming for help. Her saree pleats soaked with dust and blood.
📝 "In a moment of pure instinct, Arnav Singh Raizada pushed ms. Gupta out of harm's way. Seconds later, he was struck-turning a night of celebration into one of crisis. As the city watched in silence, this photo became the heartbeat of the headlines."