𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

Chapter 35

Zaidan's POV

"Ya Allah, please grant her good health once again. I can't imagine life without her." I pray for my wife's health, crying. If only it was me in the hospital instead of her.

Leaving the mosque, I spotted my father's cousin's son, Sahil, waiting outside. He arrived in Pakistan from London this morning. Upon seeing me, he embraces me warmly and inquires about my wife's condition as we make our way to the hospital.

"It remains the same," I respond, my hope waning. Sahil places a comforting hand on my back and reassures me, "Do not lose hope. Insha'Allah, she will recover. Keep praying." His words bring a glimmer of solace, and he then asks about my sister. Unaware of Nowaiz's mistreatment towards her, I choose not to disclose the truth, for Sahil's protective nature might lead to confrontation.

He harbored feelings for her, even now, but my sister's heart belonged to Nowaiz. Manipulating her with false promises of love and devotion, Nowaiz won her over. I was never happy about their marriage, and Sahil's heart shattered. He never expressed his true feelings to me, but his eyes conveyed the depth of his emotions.

"She's doing well, Alhamdulillah," I reply. He nods, and we enter the hospital. He tells me that he'll wait outside for me, and then we can go for a morning walk. I try to explain that I'll stay with my wife, but he doesn't listen and turns away.

I sigh and make my way to the hospital room where she is. The sterile smell and the sound of beeping machines fill the air, reminding me of the fragility of life. I enter the room and see her lying there, peaceful yet fragile.

Her face, usually full of life and radiance, now shows signs of exhaustion and pain. I gently take her hand in mine, hoping that my touch will bring her comfort. I lean in close and whisper, "I'm here, meri jaan. I won't leave your side." The words hang in the air, a promise of unwavering support and love.

I tenderly kiss her forehead, nose, and delicate hand. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm truly sorry for everything I've done to you. I've hurt you many times, and I deeply regret it. Now, seeing you in this coma, pale and fragile, I realize how deeply I'm in love with you. I can't bear to see you like this, meri jaan. I want my smiling, laughing, teasing wife back. It breaks my heart to see you in this state. You're fighting a battle between life and death because of me. I wish it was me lying here instead of you."

Tears flow down my cheeks, each drop a reminder of the time I made my wife cry. It was when we were still living at Uncle and Aunt's house, during a heated argument. I desperately wanted to know what had happened, but she refused to tell me, and my anger flared. Now, I yearn for her forgiveness, knowing that it will take time. I'm willing to be patient, but the thought of her never forgiving me is unbearable. But if she can't forgive me, I will do everything in my power to make her fall in love with me all over again.

I leave the hospital with Sahil for a walk, hoping to clear my mind. However, it proves to be a challenge as my thoughts are consumed by my wife, who remains in a coma.

Sahil breaks the silence, bringing my attention to him. "My mother insists that it's time for me to get married," he confesses, causing my mind to shift its focus. I gaze at him, curious about his intentions.

"And who does she have in mind?" I inquire cautiously, as I still suspect his feelings for my sister.

"Iqra," he responds. "She's the daughter of my mother's friend."

Curiosity piqued, I press further. "And what are your plans?"

"I intend to marry her," he reveals, averting his gaze. "My parents have already approached her family, and they have accepted. We were planning to share the news once I returned from London, but then this happened. Once your wife recovers, we can have a small engagement ceremony."