The blue light of the phone screen was the only thing illuminating Ashok's room. It was 3:00 AM in India. In Dubai, Sony was likely just finishing a late dinner or heading to sleep.
For six months, their relationship had lived inside this 6-inch screen. Every morning was a "Good morning, Boss," and every night was a "Sleep well, PA." But the distance was a physical ache in Ashok's chest. He looked at the empty side of his bed, imagining the dent her head would make on the pillow.
He looked at the photo she had sent an hour ago—a picture of her wearing the earrings he bought her after the accident, her smile looking tired but beautiful.
Ashok (3:05 AM): I miss you so much it hurts today. I went to our favorite street. The lamps were glowing, but the road felt too wide without you on the back of the bike.
He waited. The "Typing..." bubble appeared, then disappeared. Finally, the notification chirped.
Sony (3:07 AM): The moon is beautiful today, isn't it?
Ashok's heart twisted. That was their code. He knew what she was really saying.
Ashok (3:08 AM): It is. But it's not as beautiful as my PA. When are you coming back for good, Sony? I can't do five more months.
Sony (3:10 AM): I have to tell you something... The company here offered me a two-year extension. My brother says it's a great opportunity. Boss... I don't know if I can come back yet.
Ashok felt the world go cold. Two years? By then, they would be strangers. The "Night Tablet" version of her would forget the ring. The "Strict" version of her would choose her career.
He tried to type a reply, but his vision blurred with tears. He clutched the silver "PA Eye" chain he kept on his nightstand, his fingers white from the pressure.
Ashok (3:15 AM): Please don't. Just come home. I'll give you everything. I'll buy you a thousand bags, a thousand rings. Just don't leave me in this past.
She didn't reply. The "Last Seen" updated. She had gone to sleep.
Ashok curled into a ball, the silence of the room suffocating him. "Just one more chance," he whispered to the empty air, the silver chain pressed against his heart. "I would do it all differently. I wouldn't let you go."
His eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of months of loneliness finally pulling him under. The last thing he saw was the flickering glow of his phone screen...
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The sound was too loud. Too sharp.
Ashok flinched, expecting the Dubai sunrise, but the air felt different. It was humid. It smelled of ozone and office carpet.
"Ashok! Stop daydreaming and check the printer!"
He sat up with a jolt. He wasn't in his bed. He was in his old office chair. His old, slow computer was humming. And on the corner of his desk, tucked behind his monitor, was a calendar.
June 12th.
The day Sony was supposed to join.
He looked at his hand. The silver chain was gone. The ring was gone. But when he looked at the office door, he saw a girl in a simple cotton suit, clutching a notebook, looking lost.
"Excuse me?" she whispered, her voice identical to the one in his dreams. "I'm looking for Ashok-sir? I'm the new junior... Sony."
Ashok didn't cry this time. He stood up, his shy exterior cracking just enough for a predatory, protective spark to show in his eyes.
"You're late, PA," he said, his voice steady. "We have a lot of movies to watch. Let's get to work."