You Belong With Me

Rahul ripped off a piece of his shirt and pressed it firmly against Mukesh's wounds, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. The fabric quickly soaked with blood, and the situation looked dire. "Get the first aid kit, now!" he shouted to the man in the hallway. The man, wide-eyed and trembling, nodded frantically, fumbling with his phone as he rushed to find help.

Sourav stood a few steps back, watching Rahul's frantic efforts to save the very man who had caused them so much suffering. A storm of emotions swirled inside him—admiration for Rahul's compassion, shame for his own thirst for revenge, and a deep, aching sadness. He had believed that seeing Mukesh suffer would bring him peace, but now he felt more torn apart than ever.

"Rahul," Sourav whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I don't know what to do anymore."

Rahul glanced up, his eyes softening with empathy despite the urgency of the situation. "Forgive and forget," he said quietly, his words imbued with a profound wisdom and kindness that struck Sourav to his core.

Sourav's mind raced. How could he possibly forgive Mukesh after everything? How could he just let it go? "How can I forgive him after everything he's done? How can I just forget?" he asked, his voice filled with pain and confusion.

Rahul sighed deeply, applying more pressure to the makeshift bandage in an effort to control the bleeding. "Forgiveness isn't for him, Sourav. It's for you. Holding onto this anger, this hatred—it's only tearing you apart. Letting go doesn't mean you forget what he did. It means you refuse to let it control your life any longer."

Sourav knelt beside Rahul, the weight of the moment crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He reached out with a trembling hand, placing it gently on Mukesh's chest. He could feel the weak, uneven rise and fall of his breaths, each one a stark reminder of the fragile line between life and death.

"I don't know if I can do it," Sourav admitted, his voice barely a whisper, the enormity of forgiveness seeming insurmountable.

Rahul squeezed his hand reassuringly, his grip firm and comforting. "You don't have to do it alone. We'll work through this together, like we always have. We've faced so much already. We can face this too."

Sourav looked into Rahul's eyes, seeing the determination and unwavering support there. The thought of letting go of his anger seemed slightly less impossible with Rahul by his side. But there was still so much uncertainty, so much fear.

"Now, Sourav," Rahul said urgently, his voice cutting through the haze of emotions. "Use your prince card and call a doctor who knows you. We need to heal him, but we can't involve the police."

Sourav blinked, momentarily thrown by the abrupt shift in focus. "It's been years. Do you really think they will recognize me?" he asked, doubt lacing his words.

"Of course! Everyone remembers you, you idiot!" Rahul responded with a mix of exasperation and affection. "Now, please do it fast. He's losing blood."

Sourav hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded resolutely. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. It had been a long time since he had called in a favor, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He found the number and dialed, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Hello? Dr. Mehta? It's Sourav... Yes, it's been a while. Listen, I need your help. It's an emergency..."

As he spoke, Rahul continued to work on Mukesh, his hands steady but his mind racing. The situation was precarious, and every second counted. But seeing Sourav take that step, make that call, filled him with hope. They were not just fighting for Mukesh's life; they were fighting for their own redemption, for a chance to heal wounds that went far deeper than the physical.