Moonlight danced on the cobblestones of Vienna as Rahul stepped out of the upscale restaurant, pushing through the heavy wooden door. The cool night air whispered against his face, but the chill of thoughts crowded his mind.

Sana's laughter echoed behind him, dripping with memories he wished to sever. He clenched his coat pockets, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

"What a night," he muttered to himself, shaking his head slightly.

Images of Sana's face filled his vision, her insistence on their past relationship still ringing in his ears.

"You know, things could be different between us, Rahul. We were good together. We can be good again," she had said, her tone a blend of frustration and longing.

"I'm done replaying that game. That ship's sailed," he had replied, tossing the words as if shaking off a pesky fly. He ignored the way her eyes had narrowed at his dismissal, a mix of disbelief and hurt flooding her features.

As he wandered through the brightly lit streets, his thoughts drifted to Piya.

"Why can't I stop thinking about her? He thought, frustration mingling with a hint of guilt. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he walked down the brightly lit street. Each memory felt like chains, binding him to a history he struggled to escape. Piya's name crept into his thoughts, uninvited yet persistent, evoking a pang of nostalgia and pain.

Bearing the weight of regret, he whispered, "Piya..." The thought of her laughter reminded him of a time filled with easy smiles, bright eyes, something he hadn't expected to remember in such detail.

But no, he chastised himself, brushing away the tender recollection, before they could open the floodgates to the memories of Kavita's last few months. He could never forget the pain and suffering Piya's departure from their lives caused. Kavita's guilt, JR's fanatic search for Piya, hiring private investigators to locate the girl and his helplessness. Kavita loved Piya. Sometimes more than she loved him, her own flesh and blood and in return, Piya did not even turn up for her funeral.

'What's happening to me?' Rahul's thoughts spiralled, tangled in memories he wasn't ready to revisit. He crossed a busy square, where laughter and music spilled from nearby cafés, but the vibrancy faded against the heavy burden he carried. Piya's vulnerability after the fire resurfaced in his mind-fragile, steadfast, and haunting.

Reaching the hotel, the realization that Piya was just next door clung to him like a shadow. He hesitated at the entrance of his room, glancing toward the empty connecting door. What was it about her that pulled at him so fiercely?

"Think I should-?" His mind trailed off as the muffled sounds from Piya's room sliced through the silence-a crescendo of sharp, frantic noises.

Raiding the comforting stillness that usually enveloped him, he stood frozen for a moment before panic surged within him.

"Piya?" he called softly, the name struggling through the weight of worry that settled over his chest.

The noises escalated, becoming uncomfortably frantic. He closed his eyes, squeezing the edges of his coat as memories swamped him, vivid and ugly, the night of the fire.

"Not again..." he breathed, heart racing. Was she being attacked or had hurt herself?

Rahul couldn't push the thought away. He debated whether to give her peace or to cross that threshold, finally deciding on the latter.

Opening the connecting door, he moved into Piya's dimly lit room. The sight of her thrashing figure shattered his resolve. She writhed under the duvet, sweat glistening on her brow.

"Piya!" His voice dripped with urgency, thick with dread.

She didn't stir. The shadows in the room loomed ominously as he approached, instinct overpowering irritation.

"Don't wake her with your presence, let her dream, let her fade into it," his brain whispered, but his heart thundered against the voice of caution, drowning it out.

Instead, he knelt beside her bed, taking in her pain. The sight broke through any frustration he had left. Her tears soaked the pillow, unbidden cries muffled by dreams that tormented her.

"Wake up, please..." His voice dropped to a whisper as he hesitated, unsure whether to reach for her.

But Piya's eyes flickered under closed lids, mouth forming silent pleas. Rahul couldn't bear it any longer. He gently brushed her brow. "You're safe. Everything is fine."

A deep sigh slipped from him, a tender connection sparking between them. "It's okay. You're okay now. I'm here," he affirmed softly, capturing her hands with warmth.

In her sleep, Piya clung to Rahul like a drowning person clings to a lifeline. Rahul continued holding her hand, feeling the feverish grip ease slightly as he spoke gently, "Just breathe, Piya. You're safe with me."

A few moments passed, allowing the rhythm of his voice to soothe the chaos within her. Gradually, Piya's breathing slowed, the frantic thrashing easing, as if his voice had woven a protective cocoon around her.

Rahul continued to caress her brow, stroking her hair away from her damp forehead. He felt the visceral urge to protect her surge through him-a stark contrast to the unresolved tension that existed in their waking hours. As Piya's breathing became steady, her grip relaxed, and he could finally see the peaceful face she wore in sleep. Rahul held his position beside her, acutely aware of the intensity of the moment. He felt as if everything that lay between them-a chasm of pain, silence, and misunderstanding-began to collapse under the weight of shared vulnerability.

As the quiet enveloped them, Rahul found himself caught in a web of emotions he hadn't anticipated. In this intimate silence, he could finally see Piya beyond the façade she wore in public-beyond the pride and strength she projected to the world. She was not just the brilliant software developer, nor was she simply the girl haunted by loss. In this vulnerable moment, she appeared as a woman who bore the weight of years of heartache and struggle-a soul navigating through the shadows of her past, desperately seeking solace.

The stillness in the room felt charged, as if every unspoken word and unacknowledged feeling pooled together, creating a space filled with untold stories and deep-seated emotions. Rahul's heart raced in rhythm with Piya's steady breaths, and he found himself yearning to speak, to share the unspoken bond that tethered them together, yet the weight of silence held him captive.

"Piya," he breathed softly, the name wrapping around his lips like a prayer.