She was living in a serene city to the north, called Shimpa, surrounded by majestic mountains and lush forests. I packed my bag, took out my bike, and set off to find her. After six hours of relentless riding without a single break, I finally reached the town. It was breathtaking; I understood immediately why Saru had chosen this place to seek refuge—she longed for peace.
I began my search, asking the locals if they had seen her, but no one seemed to have a clue. Just when my hope was dwindling, one person recalled that she had visited his shop for medicine. That revelation sent a jolt of worry through me; she might be unwell. As darkness approached, my anxiety deepened—I could not find her.
With a heavy heart, I reluctantly mounted my bike and started the journey back, feeling utterly shattered. I stopped, overwhelmed with emotion, and burst into tears, blaming myself for all the troubles that had come between us. I missed her deeply. Then, as if fate intervened, my eyes fell upon a girl sitting on a bench beneath a tree by a flowing river, and in that moment, my heart raced as it recognized her—there she was.
I rushed toward her, grabbing her arm with urgency. "What are you doing here?" The shock on her face was evident as she replied softly, "Harsh." I pressed further, "Why did you leave?" She stood up, determination in her stride, and began to walk away. I quickly pulled her back. "I deserve an answer," I insisted.
"Leave me alone! Why are you here, and who are you to interrogate me?" Her words struck me like a blow, making me realize that she was questioning my identity. I stepped closer, intensity in my voice. "From that night we shared, how could you forget who I am?"
In response, she pushed me away again and declared, "It was just a pity fling—a fleeting moment to escape from Abhimanyu." Her words cut deeply, thrusting me into sorrow. With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me grappling with the weight of her rejection.
I returned to my bike, and as I approached her, she was moving almost dreamily in front of me. I paused, catching her attention. "Saru, I wanted to give you Jessie's wedding invitation," I said, my voice steady. Her eyes brightened for a moment before welling with tears. She stepped closer, reaching for the card, but suddenly collapsed into my arms.
For a heartbeat, I thought she was apologizing, offering me a heartfelt embrace. I leaned in and whispered softly in her ear, "Now, who am I to you?" But as I pulled her slightly away to gaze into her eyes, a surge of panic washed over me. Her eyes had rolled back, and blood trickled from her nose. It dawned on me that she was burning with fever; I could scarcely breathe as my eyes landed on the patient ID badge she wore, revealing that she had been admitted to the nearby hospital.
Without a moment to lose, I dialed for an ambulance, my heart racing as I cradled her gently, desperate to get her the help she desperately needed.