“Yes, sir,” he says quickly and bolts out the door.
I exhale slowly, forcing the rage down just enough to think. Then I pull out my phone and call my personal doctor—the only person I trust with this right now.
“I am coming to the hospital.”
He replies immediately, saying he’s already at the hospital and will be waiting. I end the call and turn back to Meera. My thumb brushes gently across her temple, checking for swelling, bruises… anything.
“Meera… come on,” I plead, as if saying her name will force her to open her eyes. “You’re going to wake up, okay? Nothing will happen to you,” I mutter, more to myself than to her. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whisper. “Meera, this helpless look doesn’t suit you. I like you better when you’re snapping at me. That’s when you’re fucking hot.” I pause, swallowing hard, the knot in my throat tightening.
What the hell are you doing to me?
I’ve never felt this kind of pain for anyone. And definitely not for someone who wants to ruin my family. So why does seeing you like this feel like something inside me is torn apart? This madness… this fear… this pull… it’s fucking all because of you.
But the next second, I shove my feelings aside and focus on her instead. Sliding one arm beneath her back and the other under her legs, I lift her against my chest. She’s too light, too limp, too damn still. The sight of her like this drives another shard of fear through me. I grip her tighter, her head resting against my chest, her hair brushing my jaw.
I pull in a deep breath and walk out of my office, down the hallway.
Every staff member steps back the moment they see her in my arms. My steps are quick and controlled, but inside, I am seconds away from losing it. I adjust my grip, making sure she’s secure.
I push through the exit, and the guard opens the passenger door of the car. I then carefully lower her onto the seat, fasten her seatbelt, and double check to make sure it isn’t too tight. Only then do I shut the door, circle the car, and slide into the driver’s seat.
Throughout the drive, my grip on the steering wheel is so tight my knuckles go bone-white, my eyes flicking to her againand again. I break a few traffic rules, but I don’t care. I just need to get her to the hospital. I need her awake.
Finally, when the hospital entrance comes into view, I feel like I can breathe again. It’s a rough, shaky breath, but at least I am breathing.
I brake hard, barely putting the car in park before I am out the door. I yank open her side, slide my arms beneath her, and settle her against me, pushing through the sliding doors of the emergency ward. A nurse spots me and rushes over.
“Dr. Ramesh!” I bark.
They bring a stretcher, but I shake my head.
“I am not putting her down until Dr. Ramesh is here.”
The nurse nods quickly as if sensing the storm in my voice, and rushes off. Within seconds, Dr. Ramesh appears, his expression serious.
“Follow me,” he says, gesturing towards a private room.
I follow, Meera still cradled in my arms. Once we enter, he closes the door behind us and gestures towards the bed.
“Put her on the bed, Mr. Rathore.”
Reluctantly, I lower her onto the hospital bed, my hands lingering on her shoulders longer than necessary, as if letting go even for a second would be a mistake.
He begins his examination while I stand there, every second stretching into a lifetime. Finally, he straightens.
“Her vitals are stable. She likely fainted due to sudden shock. A mild concussion is possible, so we’ll run a scan, but there’s nothing to worry about,” he says calmly.
The pressure in my chest eases just enough for me to finally take a proper breath.
Nothing to worry about.God, that’s the only thing I needed to hear.
“She’s going to be fine,” he adds with a small, reassuring smile.
I nod, but my eyes never leave Meera.
Once alone, I sink down onto the edge of the bed beside her and lean closer. My hand brushes gently through her hair. My eyes sting, and I blink hard, but it doesn’t stop the burn.
“You’re turning me into an emotional fool.” My thumb grazes her temple. “I don’t cry for anyone,” I mutter under my breath. “Definitely not for someone who hates me.” A humourless smile tugs at my lips. “But look at me… losing my damn mind over you.”
