Chapter 72 – Holding on With Love

The hospital room turned into a battlefield where Veeresh was both warrior and prisoner. The machines hummed, the clock ticked, but Veeresh gave them no power. Only his voice filled the silence, carrying his memories, his love, his stubborn refusal to let her slip away.

He brushed his fingers across her face, tracing the curve of her cheek as if memorizing her all over again.

“Poornima… remember the night of the college fest? You were explaining Cleopatra and Mark Antony, and I stood outside just listening. You were shining. Everyone loved your class, but I… I fell for your smile. That was the day my heart stopped belonging to me. Wake up, jaan… so I can tell you this while looking into your eyes.”

Her chest rose and fell faintly, no answer. Still, he carried on.

He kissed her hair, his tears dampening the strands.

“You know, Mrs. Raj, you look most beautiful when you’re angry with me. That time you caught me glaring at Pavan, you backhugged me on the terrace… do you remember? You said, ‘Trust your wife.’ I do, Poornima. I trust you more than I trust myself. So trust me now—wake up. Come back.”

Hours passed. Nurses came and went, his father silently prayed by the door, but Veeresh never stopped. He placed their son again on Poornima’s chest, guiding the tiny fist to rest on her hand.

“Feel him, Poornima. He’s ours. He’s waiting for you to call him your baby. Do you want his first word to be appa? No… he needs his amma too. Don’t let him grow without your voice.”

His own body weakened, hunger and exhaustion gnawing at him, but he didn’t notice. Every minute was spent speaking, kissing, caressing her hands, her forehead, her lips.

“Do you remember the temple, Poornima? That night I tied the mangalsutra and filled your hairline with sindur. You fought me, but in the end, you smiled. You became mine. That promise is forever. Don’t you dare break it now.”

Tears blurred his vision, yet he pressed her tighter to him, resting her head on his chest.

“If you want me to beg, I’ll beg. If you want me to cry, I’ll cry. But don’t leave me. Don’t leave our son. You are my air, my heartbeat, my world. Poornima… without you, Veeresh Raj is nothing.”

As the final hour of the 24 approached, his voice grew hoarse, raw, yet he kept whispering. Every story of their love, every stolen smile, every promise, every kiss—they all poured out like prayers.

When the clock struck, Veeresh broke down completely, pressing his forehead to hers, his tears falling endlessly.

“Poornima… I’m still here. And I’ll keep waiting. Even if you stay like this forever, I will wait. Because I’m yours. Only yours.”

His father, standing behind, covered his face and wept silently. The man who once taught his son to be ruthless in business now prayed that the ruthless love of his son could conquer death itself.