The Blinking
For four months, Aryan had been adrift in the deep, dark sea of his coma—a period where his subconscious mind processed the trauma of the accident, the betrayal of the lie, and his profound, unconfessed love for Ayra.
Then, a flicker.
The nurse, vigilant at his bedside, saw the slightest tremor in his bandaged fingers. She leaned closer, her heart seizing with hope, and saw his eyelids twitching. Slowly, painstakingly, Aryan's eyes began to blink, pushing back against the heavy curtain of unconsciousness.
She rushed from the room, gasping the life-changing news: "Aryan... he opened his eyes!"
Joy, sudden and explosive, erupted in the waiting area. Parents, relatives, and friends rushed to his room. Tears were already tracking paths down his cheeks. His mother, pushing gently through the crowd, leaned over him.
"What is it, my darling? Why are you crying? You are safe now, you are alright," she whispered, her own tears blurring her vision.
Aryan signaled weakly for her to remove his oxygen mask. The mask was lifted, and with a dull, strained tone, he uttered the name that had tortured his sleep: "Ayra!"
His mother smiled warmly. "She's fine, my love. She's right here, behind your father. She prayed for you constantly, she cried herself sick while you were gone."
Aryan looked past his mother, past the happy, tearful faces, and saw her. Ayra. She was alive, whole, and standing in the room. He realized the entire, agonizing tragedy—the second death, Runa's devastating confession, Ayra's ultimate sacrifice—had been a terrifying, vivid dream. The realization hit him with the force of catharsis. He was overwhelmed, not by grief, but by immense, purifying happiness.
The Scolding of Love
Ayra came forward, taking his weak, trembling palm in hers. She looked at him, her eyes shining with both relief and residual anger from the weeks of lying in wait.
"You can't bear a day without talking to me," she scolded, her voice cracking with the strain of their separation. "Then how did you manage these four months? You lied to me, Aryan! You said you couldn't stay without talking to me. Stupid! Now I hate you."
Aryan smiled, the slow, weak gesture the most beautiful thing his family had seen. "Why do you hate me, dear? You never said you loved me. How can you hate someone you don't love?"
Ayra squeezed his hand hard and gently slapped his cheek—a soft reprimand for his stubbornness. "Hmm, okay. I never told you that I am loving you, but I never told you that I am not loving you." The ambiguity, finally, was a form of confession.
Dr. Runa stepped in, her professional calm restored. "That's enough for now. Aryan needs rest. We will all talk to him this evening."
His parents and friends nodded and filed out. Ayra lingered, sighing in relief as she gave his hand one last squeeze before reluctantly leaving him to sleep.
The True Confession
That evening, after the initial excitement settled, the room cleared, leaving only Ayra and Aryan.
"Ayra," he murmured, his eyes searching hers, "I had a nightmare. I lost you. You sacrificed your life for me. I couldn't bear it. I cried myself awake. I was so scared of that dream. I wish that day never comes in our life."
Ayra looked deeply into his eyes, acknowledging the true depth of his fear—a fear that had been so great it had threatened his life. She leaned in close, offering him the assurance he needed.
"It makes me happy when I am with you, Aryan," she said softly, her words finally unambiguous. "It gives me a heavenly bliss when I am in you."
His hand, steadier now, gently cupped her cheek. He pulled her towards him, their foreheads touching, their hearts—both his and her own—beating in perfect, thankful synchronization. He kissed her gently on the forehead, sealing the future he had fought for.
"You are always in my heart," he whispered.
Just outside the door, Aryan's mother watched the tender scene unfold. Her son, the boy who risked everything for his ambition, had finally received the one thing that truly mattered. She felt profound peace, knowing that her son had gained good, true support in the name of love.