A Story Of Young Love, Unsaid Passion And Second Chances

Something I’m Waiting to Tell You by Shravya Bhinder is the conclusion of a story that started with Something I Never Told You. An excerpt:

I love her so much that if it were possible, I would go back in time and change everything that led to her being bedridden. If fate didn’t permit that, then, at the very least, I would have taken her place. I would have happily taken all her suffering. But I could not because life does not always give you second chances at the same thing. I could not reverse time, I could never replace her. All I could do was to pray for her speedy recovery, help her in any and every way that I could, and hope that she would still love me when she regained her consciousness—if ever she did. The last bit was too much to ask for, and I knew that, but I was ready to work to get her love back.

I knew that it would be tough for her. She had been treated unfairly by not just me but also by fate, which she talked about so much. Every morning I tried to focus on the positives in life and not think of all the could-have-beens. I focused more on the amazing life we could build together when she got up and if she wanted to be with me. Honestly, I was somewhat looking forward to the day when she would get up to tell me how much she hated me, blame me for the time she had lost, despise me for the way I had treated her, get angry for the bruises my selfishness had given her. I was dying to hear her voice, see expressions on her face, the day she would recognize me again, cry again, get angry with me—do anything.

While my heart still clung to the idea of us falling in love again, I knew that was a lot to ask from her. I also knew that it was a lot of work for me to make her fall in love with me all over again, but I was looking forward to that too. After all, we never give up when things matter to us the most. When we give up on dreams, it means that we never really were very passionate about them, because with passion comes will, and with will comes the determination to reach our goals. Living a beautiful life with her was my goal, giving her everything that she deserved was my goal. And even if this time I would be unable to make her love me back, I would still be happy just knowing that she was happier away from me as long as she was healthy and loved her life the way it was.

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For the last few days that I had been around her, I observed that now and then her eyelids fluttered. She had started blinking and moving her eyes. It was not a lot but was enough for all of us to believe that she was going to be well really soon.

Every time I visited her, her mother wanted me to go away. She did not like me anywhere near her daughter any more. She blamed me for her state and kept an eye on me the entire time I was around Adira. The only time I was alone with Adira was when she had a work call or was making food. She never really liked me; she had expressed her displeasure when Adira had told her about me and never thought that I was a match for her beautiful daughter. But since the accident, she’d come to hate me. I did not blame her. I also understand that she meant well; she meant well for her daughter who had trusted me. Had I been in her place, as a parent, I would have felt the same, done the same, and behaved in a worse manner. I would not have let the person responsible for my child’s pain come anywhere near my child for life. Adira’s mother was letting me come to visit her daughter. She even cooked me a meal when I stayed over. She doesn’t blame me vocally; her silence says it all. My respect for the woman had been elevated to unimaginable heights because she is single-handedly taking care of Adira, her expenses, her care. I knew that I had messed up, I knew that I had taken her for granted, I knew that I had broken her heart and hurt her.

If I could go back in time and fix it, I would.

Excerpted with permission from Something I’m Waiting to Tell You by Shravya Bhinder published by Penguin.

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