No!

After waiting for hours, We were finally asked to go see my father, who had just regained consciousness.

Despite how much I wanted to see him, hold him, hug him. I found myself standing by the door, my heart beating so hard that I felt I would pass out.

“Shimma, your father wants to see you,” Mr. Mattias said to me, gently holding my hands and leading me into the ward.

Once my eyes landed on my father, I started crying again. Worse this time.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” Mr. Mattias said while patting my back. But nothing could stop the stinging pain I felt inside. I didn’t see this coming—I didn’t.

“Shimma,” my father said. His voice strange. Soft, weak.

“Dad,” I replied, covering my mouth with my palm, trying to stifle my sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“No, Dad! I’m sorry, I’m sorry for not noticing you were sick. How could I not know that you had undergone heart surgery? How reluctant was I not to notice?” I cried out, each word laced with guilt.

“Honey, it’s not your fault. Your dad was always in and out of the house. There was no way you could have noticed,” my mum said, her voice steadier now, though her eyes still glistened with unshed tears.

“Was that why he was distant from us a few months ago?” I asked, recalling the times my father would return home, lost in thought, ignoring my attempts to welcome him home. I used to worry myself to sleep, wondering what was happening. But there was no way I could have thought of this.

“You’re right, sweetheart. He had found out his new heart was failing, but after a few weeks, the doctor assured him that everything was okay—he was meant to be okay,” my mum said, her voice trembling as she struggled to hold back her emotions.

“Dad, please don’t worry; everything will be fine,” I said, moving closer to him and wrapping my arms around him tightly.

“I love you so much, Dad,” I whispered, pressing my cheek against his frail shoulder.

“I love you so much, Shimma… So, so much,” he whispered back, the warmth of his words bringing both comfort and a deeper ache to my heart.

As I held him, the beeping of machines filled the silence, a cruel reminder of the fragility of life. This moment—this vulnerability, made me realize how much I had taken for granted.

“Can you promise me something, Dad?” I asked, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. His tired eyes searched mine, but it was filled with hope, like he was willing to take in whatever I had to say to him.

“Anything, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Promise me you’ll fight. Promise me you’ll get better,” I pleaded, my heart aching for the man who had always been my hero.

He had so much waiting ahead of him. His grandchild, more grandkids. He couldn’t leave now.

“I promise, Shimma. I’ll fight for you… for us,” he said, a faint smile breaking through the pain etched on his face. And I felt a sudden sense of calm wash over me. A reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

Hopefully…..

———

MATTIAS POV.

I sat there watching the whole family in pain—my best friend in pain.

This wasn’t meant to happen. We were all supposed to be planning our big wedding. That was why I needed his blessings do bad. Because I knew how important it was for him.

Derry would never stop talking about how much he wanted to walk Shimma down the Aisle. And be the best grandfather to his grandkids. But here he was, trapped in a hospital room filled with uncertainty and fear.

I leaned back in my chair, watching Shimma’s tears fall freely, and nothing pained me more than to see tears in her eyes. Not after she was so beaming with so much happiness and joy yesterday.

We were supposed to be planning the future together, our marriage, our kids. Not facing this harsh reality. (Goddamnit.)

“Everything was supposed to be different,” I whispered under my breath, hoping the universe would hear me. I wished I could take away their pain, to somehow make this all vanish. But I knew that wasn’t how life worked.

SHIMMA’S POV

It had been one week since my father was admitted to the hospital. He was still on life support and didn’t have any hope of getting better.

In fact, he seemed to get worse by the day and was unable to speak to anyone.

Though he was still aware of his surroundings, things continued to deteriorate, and the doctor had told us to prepare our goodbyes.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I hadn’t slept in a week but managed to take a quick nap.

I squinted at my phone as Mattias’s name displayed on the screen as “My Heart” (with love emojis).

I stared at the name “My Heart,” feeling an intense emotion swell within me. I was so lucky to have someone like Mattias in my life.

I knew he was my dad’s best friend, which meant my father’s health was his priority. But for me? This man never left my side. This was like the hundredth time we had spoken that day, and I couldn’t feel anything but gratitude—I was so lucky, so proud to call him my husband.

His call came again, and I answered it this time.

“Hey babe,” I said with a warm smile.

“Darling, how are you doing?” he asked. I rolled onto my back, putting the call on speaker.

“I’m—I just woke up,” I said.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t wake you?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

“No, you didn’t,” I lied.

“Alright, love. I’m on my way home. Do you need anything?”

“Not really. I might go check on Dad soon—maybe right now,” I said, sitting up and adjusting my hair.

“How about I come home, and then we can go together?” he suggested. But I hissed.

“Babe, you’ve just come back from an urgent meeting. You need rest. You’ve been at the hospital for days now. I’ll go see Dad, and then I’ll come home to you,” I said. He took a long time to respond, clearly hesitant.

“Alright, sweetie. I might just come pick you up later. I’ll make dinner ahead. Please take care of yourself and our daughter,” Mattias said, and I smiled, rolling my eyes.

“Our son, bye!” I replied, hanging up before he could protest.

I loved that I was finally able to smile after a whole week of crying. But it wasn’t the same for my mother. I felt so bad for her, knowing she was scared of losing someone she loved so deeply. The thought sent chills down my spine. I couldn’t imagine losing Mattias. I didn’t know what my life would be like without him. That must have been how my mother felt… God! It hurt so much.

---

I arrived at the hospital, my eyes landing on my mother, who was crying. But this time, it was worse.

My heart began racing as I approached her. “Mum, what’s wrong?” I breathed out, my eyes brimming with tears. It couldn’t be what I feared. It just couldn’t.

“Shimma,” she called out, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Mum, please,” I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably.

“Shimma, he’s gone. Your dad is gone,” she cried.

Oh God! Tell me this is a dream. Tell me I can wake up from this… this nightmare.