Sleep didn't come easily.
Ram drifted in and out of dreams, each one tugging at him like invisible hands. Even when he finally slipped into deeper sleep, it was not peaceful. It was the kind that carried shadows.
And somewhere past midnight, the shadows turned cruel.
The Nightmare
In his dream, he stood in a place he couldn't recognise — a dim, endless hallway swallowed by darkness. The walls were unfamiliar, the air cold enough to sting. His breath echoed like it didn't belong to him.
"Sita?" he called.
His voice bounced back, thin and trembling.
Silence answered him.
He took a step forward, then another, the floor creaking under him. A distant sound broke through the quiet — a choked sob, a familiar one.
His heart lurched.
"Sita!"
He began running, desperate, wild, the hallway stretching endlessly like time was mocking him. He ran until his breath burned, until his legs screamed.
Then suddenly — he saw her.
She stood far away, lost in the darkness, her hair falling over her face, her shoulders shaking violently.
"Sita!" he shouted again, voice cracking.
She lifted her head.
Her eyes were drowned in tears.
Her lips trembled.
Her hand reached out to him — begging, pleading.
He sprinted toward her.
But the floor beneath him rippled like water.
Every step slowed him.
Every movement dragged him backward.
"Sita! Don't cry— I'm here! I'm coming!"
But she was slipping away.
The darkness swallowed her inch by inch.
Her voice broke through the void —
"Ram, don't leave me… please…"
He screamed her name —
once, twice, again —
until his throat burned.
And then —
the world shattered.
Ram Wakes
Ram jerked awake with a violent gasp.
His chest was heaving, sweat dripping down his face, his heart pounding a painful rhythm against his ribs.
He sat up abruptly, hands trembling uncontrollably.
"Sita…" he whispered into the empty room, "are you… are you okay?"
His mind was spinning.
He could still hear her sobs.
He could still feel the helplessness clawing at him.
He grabbed his phone with shaking fingers.
3:47 AM.
He didn't think twice.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
He pressed call.
The ringtone felt like it was crossing oceans one beat at a time.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three.
His breath shook.
Four.
Then—
"Hello?"
Her voice was soft, sleepy, confused.
But she sounded okay.
Thank God.
"Sita…" he whispered, exhaling sharply.
He didn't realise he was shaking until his phone almost slipped from his hand.
Her voice sharpened instantly.
"Ram? What happened? Why are you breathless? Are you sick? Tell me!"
He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself.
"I saw you crying…" he whispered, "in my dream. Calling my name. I couldn't reach you. You were… breaking."
There was silence.
A long, fragile silence.
Sita's Side
Sita sat up slowly in her bed, heart pounding.
The darkness of her room felt heavier than before.
Her blanket slid off her lap as she held the phone tighter.
"Ram…" she breathed, voice trembling now, "don't scare me like that."
He didn't answer.
Only his shaky breaths filled the line.
Her eyes softened, filling with warmth and worry.
"Hey… I'm here. I'm right here. Nothing happened to me," she whispered. "I'm safe, Ram. I'm completely safe."
But he didn't calm down.
Because the nightmare was too real.
Too close.
Too cruel.
"Sita… I felt like I lost you."
Her heart cracked.
She kept her voice steady — not because she wasn't emotional, but because he needed steadiness right now.
"Ram… listen to me. Look around."
She paused gently.
"Is your door locked?"
"Yes."
"Your room is safe?"
"Yes."
"Breathe, Ram. Slow. I'm here."
And for the next few seconds, she stayed silent but present — letting him listen to her breathing, letting him know she was alive, real, not a fading figure in a nightmare.
When he finally calmed, she whispered,
"What exactly did you see?"
He hesitated.
But she encouraged him softly,
"Tell me."
Ram leaned back against the headboard, rubbing his face.
"You were crying… reaching out for me. Everything around you was dark. I kept running toward you, but something was pulling me back. I tried so hard to reach you, Sita… but I couldn't."
His voice cracked again.
"And then you started disappearing. I… I couldn't do anything."
Sita's fingers tightened around the phone.
Because somewhere, deep inside her, guilt twisted unexpectedly.
Guilt she didn't speak about.
Guilt she hid behind ambition and distance.
The guilt of leaving him behind.
Shadow of Truth
She took a deep breath.
"Ram… can I tell you something I haven't said before?"
His heartbeat slowed.
He straightened.
"Tell me."
She stared at her dark room — the unfamiliar walls, the unfamiliar silence — and whispered,
"I cry sometimes too… here. Alone."
Ram froze.
His breath caught.
"I never told you because you would worry," she continued. "And I didn't want you to feel responsible. But some nights… it gets heavy. The loneliness. The silence. Missing you."
She pressed a hand to her chest.
"Maybe your dream wasn't random. Maybe you felt what I never said."
Ram closed his eyes, the truth sinking into him like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"Sita…" he whispered, "why didn't you tell me?"
She gave a weak, sad smile he couldn't see.
"Because, Ram… you're strong, but you're also soft. I know you. If I cried, you'd drop everything and fly here. And I can't let you do that. Not now."
Her voice broke, just slightly.
"I want you to build your life too. Not just wait for mine."
Ram swallowed hard, emotion burning in his chest.
"And what if I don't care about life without you in it?"
A tear slid down her cheek.
"You do care," she whispered. "You care too much. That's why you're trying so hard."
A Promise in the Dark
The call fell into silence again.
This time, neither felt the need to fill it with jokes or distractions.
Some love didn't need words.
Finally, Sita whispered,
"Ram… listen to me."
He hummed faintly.
"No matter how far I go… no matter how many oceans stretch between us… I will always reach back to you."
Her voice softened further.
"I didn't leave you. I left for us."
Ram closed his eyes tightly.
"Then promise me one thing," he whispered.
"What?"
"Don't carry your struggles alone. Don't hide them to protect me. Let me be there too — even from afar."
Her lips curved into a trembling smile.
"Only if you promise the same."
He nodded, even though she couldn't see him.
"I promise."
She whispered,
"And so do I."
They didn't hang up for a long time.
They talked about little things —
her new favourite café,
the office guy who couldn't pronounce Indian names,
Ram's dramatic rant about his meeting,
the neighbour's cat that kept stealing socks.
The laughter they shared was softer tonight —
a bit watery,
a bit shaky,
but genuine.
Healing laughter.
Before Sunrise
The sky was turning pale by the time their call neared its end.
"Go to sleep," she whispered.
"You've scared me enough for one night."
He chuckled lightly.
"Only if you stay on the call until I do."
"I'll stay."
Minutes later, his breathing steadied, his heartbeat softened, and sleep finally wrapped him gently.
Sita listened quietly, a small smile on her lips.
"Ram…" she whispered into the half-light,
"I'm sorry for the distance. But I'm coming back stronger. And one day… we won't have to sleep alone."
The sky outside her window brightened.
Some mornings didn't need sunlight to feel warm.
Sometimes, love was enough.