AFTERMATH

Alex had always prided himself on his resilience. But nothing could have prepared him for the ordeal that landed him in the hospital.  The robbers left him battered and broken, a shadow of the confident man he once was. The police found him just in time, unconscious on the side of the road, and rushed him to the hospital.

When Alex regained consciousness, the hospital room's sterile whiteness and the incessant beeping of monitors greeted him. Pain radiated through his body with every breath, and the memory of the kidnapping was a blur of fear and violence. His vision cleared to reveal his mother, Martha, sitting by his side, her face etched with worry and relief.

"Oh, Alex," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "Thank God you're awake. We were so worried."

"Mom," he croaked, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm... I'm okay."

"No, you're not," she said firmly, squeezing his hand. "But you will be. We're all here for you."

Over the next few days, the room saw a steady stream of visitors. His colleagues from work brought flowers and well-wishes, their faces showing a mix of horror and relief at seeing him alive. John, his best friend from the office, patted his shoulder gently.

"Hang in there, buddy," John said. "We need you back at the office. It's not the same without you."

Alex tried to smile, but the effort sent a jolt of pain through his ribs. His father, a stoic man, stood silently by the window, his face a mask of controlled anger and concern. Alex's siblings came too, their chatter and laughter a welcome distraction from the pain. His younger sister, Lily, brought him a homemade card, her eyes wide with fear and love.

"Get well soon, big bro," she said, her voice trembling. "We miss you at home."

Martha was a constant presence, never leaving his side. She prepared his meals with care, ensuring he ate enough to regain his strength. She helped him with his medication, her touch gentle but firm. Her strength became his anchor, and her love gave him the will to endure the grueling recovery process.

One afternoon, a week into his hospital stay, the door creaked open, and Alex looked up to see Ruma standing hesitantly in the doorway. His heart leaped at the sight of her. She held a small bouquet of daisies, their bright yellow petals a stark contrast to the sterile room.

"Ruma," Alex breathed, a genuine smile breaking through the pain. "You came."

"Of course I did," she replied, her voice soft and warm. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now," he said, his eyes shining with gratitude. "Please, sit."

Ruma sat beside him, her presence filling the room with a sense of normalcy and warmth. They chatted about work, shared jokes, and reminisced about happier times. For a while, Alex could forget the pain and the fear that had gripped him since the kidnapping.

"I'm glad you're okay," Ruma said after a while, her voice choked with emotion. "We've all been so worried."

"Thanks," Alex replied, his voice tender. "It means a lot to have you here."

Her visit was a balm to his weary soul, and for the first time since the incident, Alex felt a flicker of hope. Over the next few days, Ruma continued to visit, her presence a bright spot in his otherwise monotonous days. She brought books, funny stories, and an infectious optimism that made the long hours bearable.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with good news. "Alex, you're ready to be discharged," Dr. Patel announced with a reassuring smile. "But remember, take it easy. You'll need outpatient therapy, and it's important not to rush your recovery."

Alex nodded, relief washing over him. "Thank you, Doctor."

On the day of his discharge, his mother helped him gather his things, her movements brisk and efficient. As they left the hospital, she held his arm, steadying him. Each step outside felt like reclaiming a piece of his old life, a step towards normalcy.

Before he left, Ruma visited one last time. She stood at the doorway, her eyes full of warmth and concern.

"Take care of yourself, Alex," she said softly. "And don't rush back to work too soon. We'll manage until you're ready."

"I will," he promised, giving her a grateful smile. "Thanks for everything, Ruma. Your visits meant the world to me."

"Anytime," she replied, squeezing his hand gently. "Get well soon."

Alex watched her leave, a sense of longing mixed with gratitude. There was so much he wanted to say, but now wasn't the time. He knew he needed to focus on his recovery first.

At home, Alex found solace in the familiar surroundings. His family's support was unwavering. His mother continued to take care of him, ensuring he followed the doctor's orders. His siblings' visits were frequent, their playful banter a reminder of happier times. His father's silent presence, though less overt, was a constant source of strength.

The days turned into weeks, and Alex gradually regained his strength. His physical therapy sessions were tough, but he faced them with determination. He often thought of Ruma and the comfort her visits had brought him during those difficult days in the hospital. Though they hadn't spoken about their feelings, he hoped that one day, when he was stronger, he might find the courage to tell her how much she meant to him.

For now, he focused on  getting on with life he was happy to be back home,the next morning he woke up to the usual alarm sound, that do wake him up he tap on the alarm button, he remembered his daily routine, his reflection caught his attention looking at the bandages on his body, he got determined to be more strong and achieve his goal of becoming a superhero . He  packed his stuffs into his suitcase getting ready for vacation.

He was lost in thought about life without city, "Alex! His mom voice brought him back to reality ..