D-DAY
21 February 2024
It was a bright, sunny day perfect for a picnic. It was the kind of day that made the world feel light and joyful.
But inside Forties Healthcare Hospital, that warmth didn’t exist.
Grief hung heavy in the air.
The sound of quiet sobs echoed through the long, sterile hallways.
Lives had been shattered. Families broken.
And in one of those rooms…
Juhi lay on a narrow hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. She had been trying to fall asleep for nearly an hour, but her thoughts wouldn’t let her rest.
Footsteps approached.
“Are you sleepy?” the nanny asked gently as she entered. “It’s time for your medication. Wake up.”
Juhi turned toward her, eyes heavy, her body curling slightly into itself.
The nanny studied her for a moment, then said firmly,
“It’s high time you washed your hair.”
Juhi frowned instantly.
“I’m not going to wash my hair. Why would I… when I barely have enough left?”
She suddenly got up, grabbed a hand mirror, and held it in front of her face.
“Look at me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m the most awful-looking girl in the world.”
The nanny looked into the mirror.
It wasn’t gone… not completely.
But it was thinner now. Fragile. Like a fading shadow.
“Excuse me,” a calm voice interrupted.
A nurse stepped in, a clipboard tucked neatly under her arm. She asked Juhi how she was feeling before preparing her medication.
The nanny gently took the mirror from Juhi’s hand and pulled her close.
“You are the prettiest girl I have ever seen in my fifty years,” she said softly.
The nurse inserted the needle.
A sharp pain spread through Juhi’s arm as the fluid entered her veins.
“It’s okay,” the nanny whispered reassuringly.
Moments later, the nurse left.
The nanny cupped Juhi’s face and looked into her eyes.
“Do you remember what you tell yourself when you feel scared?”
Juhi nodded faintly.
Just then, the nanny’s phone rang.
It was her NGO.
“I have to go,” she said hurriedly. “I’ll be back in the evening.”
And just like that…
She was gone.
Silence.
Juhi lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling again.
The ticking of the clock grew louder… louder… until it felt like the only sound in the room.
Outside, birds chirped softly near the window.
She closed her eyes.
Sleep took her.
Blurry images flickered through her mind.
Voices overlapped distant, distorted.
She wasn’t in her hospital room anymore.
She was standing on the ruins of an old, moss-covered temple.
Cold air brushed against her skin.
Stillness.
Then—
Beep.
A sharp sound pierced the silence.
It was her pulse monitor.
A voice echoed faintly in her dream.
Calling her name.
Once.
Twice.
Her chest tightened suddenly.
It felt like someone was choking her.
She struggled to breathe.
Pain surged through her.
And then…
A memory.
A gentle voice.
“I may not be your first… but I want to be your last.”
Juhi jolted awake.
Gasping.
Sweating.
Terrified.
Her eyes darted around the room, searching… for someone.
Anyone.
Relief washed over her slowly.
It was just a dream.
Right?
Footsteps approached again.
“I’m here,” a new voice drawled.
Juhi froze.
She turned toward the doorway.
A man stood there.
Calm. Unbothered.
Holding a bouquet of roses that completely hid his face.
Her heart began to race.
Was he… the one?
“Who are you?” Juhi asked, her voice shaky. “Do I know you?”
He walked toward her casually.
“Hold these for me,” he said, extending the flowers. “I bought them for my beloved wife.”
Juhi’s confusion turned into fear.
“Can’t you hear me?” she shouted. “Who are you?!”
Slowly…
He lowered the bouquet.
A grin spread across his face.
“Yo,” he said playfully, his voice textured with confidence.
“I’m going to be your husband in an hour.”
Juhi’s breath hitched.
“I hope I’m not too late to pick you up,” he continued.
“Finally, it’s our D-Day.”
His eyes locked onto hers.
“I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”
Her heart skipped.
Her mind spun with questions
What…?
Am I really getting married today?
Who is he…?
How does he know me?
