wednesday morning. 9:13 am.
aiims hospital. waiting room. AC cranked high against monsoon heat outside. plastic chairs. smell of antiseptic mixing with wet umbrella smell from everyone's arrivals. people everywhere. crying babies. worried families. time moving slow like punishment.
shubham sat between reshma and priya. all three quiet. scared.
reshma clutching form. appointment slip. hands shaking.
priya pretending to scroll phone. but screen not moving. just staring. distraction attempt failing.
him. just watching clock. watching her. watching walls close in.
"reshma sindhi."
nurse called. loud. clinical.
they stood together.
"only patient and one family member," nurse said.
priya squeezed reshma's hand. "bhai go. i'll wait here. bhabhi you got this."
reshma nodded. couldn't speak.
they followed nurse. long corridor. doors. doctors. suffering everywhere.
dr. mehta's cabin. nameplate. oncology specialist.
older man. kind eyes. tired face. seen too much death.
"sit please."
they sat. hands linked. grip tight. desperate.
doctor pulled up reports on computer. studied them. silence stretching. torturous.
finally looked up.
"reports show progression," he said. gentle. honest. devastating. "cancer is spreading faster than initial scans indicated. treatment timeline i gave before. one year. now." pause. heavy. "six to eight months. maybe less."
reshma's breath hitched. shubham felt his world tilt. everything blurring.
"how," she whispered. "how is it faster."
"stress. exhaustion. immune system compromised." doctor looked at her chart. "you haven't been taking medications properly. missed doses."
"i. i forgot sometimes."
"can't forget. every dose matters. every day matters." he leaned forward. "reshma this is late stage. aggressive form. we can slow it. manage symptoms. give you quality time. but cure." he shook his head. "i'm sorry. not possible."
silence.
shubham couldn't breathe. six months. half a year. twenty four weeks.
not enough. not nearly enough.
"so what now," he asked. voice barely working.
"aggressive treatment. chemotherapy next week. radiation possibly. medication schedule strict. regular monitoring." doctor looked at both of them. "expensive. physically exhausting. emotionally brutal. you need support system. family. resources."
"we have family," shubham said. firm. "whatever she needs. we'll manage."
doctor nodded. "good. because she'll need it." he turned to reshma. "you'll lose hair. appetite. energy. there will be days where living feels impossible. but if you fight. if you take care. we can give you months that matter. understand."
reshma nodded. tears falling. silent. broken.
"here." doctor handed papers. "treatment plan. cost estimate. medication schedule. next appointment in three days. start chemo friday."
shubham took papers. saw numbers. cost analysis.
his heart stopped.
three lakhs. minimum. maybe more if complications.
he had maybe forty thousand savings. ma's gold chain money another sixty thousand. total one lakh.
needed two lakhs more.
how.
how.
"any questions," doctor asked.
"if." reshma's voice cracking. "if i don't do treatment. how long."
"reshma no—" shubham started.
"how long," she insisted.
doctor sighed. "two months. maybe three. with lot of pain."
two months without treatment. six months with.
either way. clock ticking. running out.
they thanked doctor. walked out. numb. shattered.
priya stood immediately. saw their faces. "bhabhi."
reshma collapsed into her. sobbing. actually sobbing. all walls breaking.
priya held her. looked at shubham. eyes asking how bad.
he shook head. couldn't say it. not here. not yet.
they sat in waiting room. three of them. wrapped around each other. falling apart together.
12:47 pm. their flat.
priya made chai. forced them to eat biscuits. neither wanted food. ate anyway because she insisted.
then priya stood. "okay. real talk. how much."
"priya—"
"how much money bhai. treatment. I heard you looking at papers. how much."
he pulled out estimate. handed to her.
she read. face going white. "three lakhs."
"minimum."
"and we have."
"one lakh. if we're lucky."
"so we need two more." she paced. thinking. "ma can sell more jewelry. maybe bangles. uncle can loan some—"
"no." reshma's voice. firm. dead. "no one's selling anything. no more loans. no more sacrifices."
"bhabhi you need treatment—"
"i need to not destroy this family." she looked at shubham. eyes red. resolved. "this is exactly what i said. burden. expense. ruining everything."
"you're not—"
"I AM." she stood. "your job is falling apart. your family is selling gold. your boss demoted you publicly. all because of me. and now this." she gestured at papers. "three lakhs. money you don't have. money family can't afford. for what. six more months. half a year before i die anyway."
"don't." his voice hard. shaking.
"why not. it's truth. doctor said it. cancer won. i'm dying. only question is how much damage i do before i go."
"so what." he stood too. angry now. scared. desperate. "you just give up. let it kill you faster. because money. because burden. because you've decided you're not worth it."
"i'm NOT worth it."
"that's BULLSHIT." he grabbed her shoulders. "you're worth everything. treatment. money. family gold. my job. ALL of it. because you're not just dying girl. you're reshma. you're. you're my. person."
"for six months."
"then we make six months count. chemotherapy. radiation. pain. suffering. we do ALL of it. together. and at end at least we know we fought. we didn't give up. we chose life." his voice breaking. "we chose us."
she stared at him. tears falling. "how do we pay for it."
"i don't know. loans. credit. second job. sell my laptop. sell furniture. i'll figure it out."
"and if you can't."
"then we try anyway. because what's alternative. watch you die slowly without fighting. fuck that."
priya's phone rang. she looked at screen. eyes going wide. "bhai. BHAI."
"what."
"government health scheme. ayushman bharat card." she was reading fast. scrolling. "five lakh coverage. free cancer treatment. government hospitals. we qualify. income limit. you're below threshold."
shubham froze. "what."
"look." she shoved phone at him. official website. ayushman bharat yojana. ₹5 lakh per family per year. cancer treatment covered. chemotherapy. radiation. surgery. medications. everything.
"how did—"
"was researching all night. couldn't sleep. thought there must be SOMETHING. found this. we can apply. get card. treatment free at government hospitals."
reshma grabbed phone. read. reread. "this is real."
"yeah. aiims is empaneled hospital. doctor can coordinate. we just need documents. aadhaar. income certificate. residence proof."
hope. first real hope in days.
then shubham's brain caught up. "processing time."
"what."
"government scheme. cards don't come instantly. how long."
priya scrolled. face falling. "fifteen to twenty working days. sometimes a month."
silence. crushing.
"chemo starts friday," reshma said. voice flat. "that's three days. card won't come in three days."
hope collapsing just as fast as it arrived.
"wait." priya reading more. "hospital admin can expedite. emergency cases. also they can start treatment now. backdate claims once card arrives. provisional enrollment."
"but what if card gets rejected," shubham asked. "income certificate wrong. address mismatch. any bureaucratic bullshit. what then."
"then we're back to square one. loans. debt. everything."
silence. heavy.
"see." shubham grabbed reshma's hands anyway. voice shaking. "even universe is TRYING to plan your rescue. not just us. gods. government. everyone fighting for you."
tears. all three of them. relief mixed with fear.
"so plan is," priya said, organizing chaos, "we apply tomorrow. first thing. full documents. pray it processes fast. meanwhile hospital starts treatment on provisional basis. backup is ma's gold chain money plus loan if needed."
"that's a lot of ifs," reshma whispered.
"better than no plan," shubham said. "we take what we get."
"okay." reshma nodded slowly. "we apply tomorrow. start treatment friday. pray card comes before we're bankrupt."
"and registry," she added quieter. "before i look like corpse. we do it soon."
silence. hospital buzzing around them. world continuing. them frozen.
his heart stopped. "what."
"ma's deadline. two months make it legal." she looked at her hands. thin now. veins visible. "i want to marry you. properly. before chemo takes pieces of me. before i'm bald and throwing up and can't walk straight." voice breaking. "i want you to marry ME. not what's left of me."
he couldn't breathe.
"unless you don't—" she started.
"reshma."
"—because i understand if you want to wait, or if you've changed your mind, or if seeing the doctor today made you realize—"
"reshma."
"—what you actually signed up for and it's okay if you want out i won't—"
he grabbed her face. both hands. made her look at him.
"shut up."
she blinked. tears falling.
"you think i care about hair. you think i care about weight. you think i care about any of that." his voice shaking too. "i want to marry YOU. all of you. whatever version exists. today. tomorrow. six months from now. whatever's left. it's still you. still mine."
"shubham—"
"this week. we register this week. before treatment. before anything else. we make this legal. real. official." he pressed forehead to hers. "i'm not running. stop waiting for me to run."
she collapsed into him. crying properly now. ugly crying. the kind that was relief and fear and love all tangled.
priya quietly stepped away. pretended to read hospital notices. giving them moment.
"okay," reshma whispered into his chest. "okay. this week. we get married. properly."
"this week," he confirmed.
he kissed her then. not sudden. slow. deliberate. a promise made physical.
when they pulled apart. both wrecked. both smiling.
priya appeared behind them. "FINALLY. okay. i'm planning everything. flowers. photos. video. instagram content. this will be amazing—"
"priya it's registry office. just paperwork."
"EXACTLY. which is why we need content to make it special. Pinterest here i come."
despite everything. despite cancer. despite money. despite fear.
they laughed. actually laughed.
maybe for six months.
maybe less.
but theirs. real. together.
evening. 8:23 pm.
priya asleep on couch. exhausted from planning.
them in bedroom. documents spread everywhere. registry requirements. witness names. date selection.
"saturday," reshma said. "four days. quick enough before nerves kill us. late enough to arrange everything."
"saturday registry. friday chemotherapy starts."
grim timeline.
she grabbed his hand. "scared."
"terrified."
"what if i die during treatment. what if chemo kills me. what if—"
"then we fight anyway. no what ifs. just us. doing our best."
"you really believe that."
"have to. because alternative is losing you without trying. can't do that."
they sat there. surrounded by forms to get married and hospital papers planning death.
weirdest contradiction.
most honest thing ever.
his phone buzzed. message. unknown number.
congratulations on your marriage. heard about wife's illness. very sad. but shubham beta remember. office still needs deliverables. personal tragedy doesn't excuse professional failure. hope you understand. — boss
he stared. blood boiling.
personal tragedy.
like reshma was inconvenience. deadline. obstacle.
deleted message. didn't respond.
tomorrow back to office. back to documentation grunt work. back to being humiliated daily.
all while planning wedding and cancer treatment simultaneously.
life had jokes. cruel ones.
reshma saw his face. "boss again."
"yeah."
"what did—"
"doesn't matter." he put phone away. "only thing that matters is saturday. us. making this legal. making this real."
she smiled. small. sad. true.
"registry office romance. very bollywood."
"shut up."
"make me."
dangerous words. he kissed her again. slower this time. gentle. promise.
when they broke apart. both smiling despite everything.
four days till registry.
two days till chemotherapy.
six months till. end.
no. don't think about end.
think about now. this moment. this person. this love.
whatever time left.
make it count.
(Speaker: folks doc said six months. boss said deliver or leave. priya found government health scheme. they said marry anyway. week from hell turning into strangest wedding story ever. quick registry before cancer vs clock battle begins. sometimes gods actually answer. love really makes people insane.)
Cliffhanger → Saturday registry decided. Friday chemotherapy starts. Four days to plan wedding and prepare for war against cancer. Government covering treatment. Boss still being heartless. And them? Choosing each other despite timeline. Despite everything. Maybe six months is enough. Maybe not. Only one way to find out.