At the hospital, Priya slipped fully into unconsciousness as they wheeled her into the emergency ward. Mrs. Sharma and Amit paced the sterile corridor, the mother clutching her son’s arm for support. After what seemed like hours, the doctor emerged, his expression grave. “Your daughter-in-law has severe internal bleeding,” he explained. “It appears to have started last night. She has a pre-existing condition—something congenital that wasn’t properly managed. The stress of the wedding, travel, and exhaustion exacerbated it. If delayed even a little longer, the consequences could have been fatal.”
Mrs. Sharma’s legs buckled. She sank into a nearby chair, burying her face in her hands. “It’s all my fault,” she sobbed. “I judged her without knowing. I was ready to scold her, even hit her with that stick.” Amit comforted her, though his own eyes were red-rimmed. “No, Mother. We all missed the signs. She must have been suffering silently.”
When Priya finally regained consciousness later that afternoon, the room was filled with the soft beeps of monitors. Mrs. Sharma was the first to her bedside, her trembling hand brushing gently across Priya’s forehead. “Daughter, forgive me,” she pleaded, voice thick with emotion. “I misunderstood everything. I thought you were avoiding chores, but you were in pain all along.” Priya managed a weak smile, her eyes glistening. “Mom, I wasn’t sleeping out of laziness. The pain started last night during the reception. I tried to wake Amit, but he was exhausted from the ceremonies. I didn’t want to ruin the happiness so soon after the wedding. I thought it would pass.”
