Chapter 68 — I Will Wait

Poornima stood near the corridor wall, her back pressed against it as if the hospital itself was the only thing keeping her upright. Her fingers were still clenched around the broken mangalsutra, the black beads biting into her skin.

She turned to Veeresh’s PA, her voice barely steady.

“How did he eat kheer?” she asked quietly. “I didn’t prepare anything. And you know… I never add almonds.”

The PA swallowed hard. His eyes dropped before meeting hers again.

“Ma’am… Ridhima madam came.”

Poornima’s heart skipped painfully.

“She said she came to apologise,” he continued. “Sir didn’t want to meet her, but she insisted. She said it was his favourite kheer.”

Poornima’s breath caught.

“He asked her… ‘You didn’t add almonds, right?’” the PA said slowly. “And she said no. Sir smiled and said, ‘My Poornima makes the best kheer. She never adds almonds.’”

Those words hit Poornima harder than any slap.

Her knees weakened.

“He trusted that,” the PA said, voice heavy with guilt. “He didn’t know the powder was mixed in what she brought. After she left, sir went back to signing the deals.”

The PA’s voice cracked.

“Minutes later… he coughed blood. He collapsed, ma’am. And before losing consciousness—”
He paused, struggling.
“—he whispered your name.”

Poornima gasped, a raw, broken sound escaping her throat.

“Doctor ran tests immediately,” the PA continued. “They found the powder. The reaction was severe. The doctor said… you have to be strong and wait. Satvik deal was completed, but sir—”

He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Poornima slid down onto the bench, tears spilling freely now. Her hand pressed protectively against her belly as her other clutched the mangalsutra.

My Poornima makes the best kheer.

He whispered my name.

She closed her eyes, memories flooding her—him teasing her in the kitchen, stealing spoonfuls, praising her cooking like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

“I am strong,” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. “But not without him.”

Her tears fell onto her hands, onto the broken beads, onto her growing belly.

“You trusted me, Veeresh,” she whispered. “Even in pain… you called me.”

She lifted her face, eyes red but burning with determination.

“I will wait,” she said softly, each word firm despite the tears. “However long it takes. For you. For us. For our child.”

Her palm rested over her heart, then over her belly.

“Come back,” she whispered again. “Your Poornima is waiting.”