Ram sat on the edge of the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he began putting his disheveled room back in order. Pillows were scattered, a chair was toppled, and a few books lay haphazardly on the floor. With quiet determination, he picked up each item, placing them back in their rightful places. It was as if tidying the room was his way of restoring a small semblance of control amidst the chaos inside his mind.

As he reached for a glass on the bedside table, a faint buzzing sound caught his attention. Priya's phone, sitting on the nearby table, lit up with an incoming video call. Ram hesitated, his hand hovering over the device. Curiosity got the better of him, and he picked up the phone, staring at the screen. The name flashing on it seemed familiar in a distant way, though he couldn't quite place it. Without thinking too much, he swiped to answer.

The screen sprang to life, and a young girl's face appeared, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw him. "Uncle!" Peehu squealed with excitement, her voice ringing with joy. "Grandma, look! It's him!"

Ram's expression softened instinctively, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the confusion still swirling in his head. Peehu's enthusiasm was infectious, and for a brief moment, his worries seemed to fade.

Then, another face appeared on the screen—an older woman, her features sharp with both surprise and recognition. Shipra Ji's eyes widened in disbelief as she exclaimed, "Ram?!"

But Ram simply stared back blankly, his smile fading. There was no flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Do I know you?" he asked, his tone polite but distant.

Before Shipra could respond, the atmosphere shifted as Priya reentered the room. Her face froze when she saw Ram holding her phone, and her heart skipped a beat when she realized who was on the call. Crossing the room swiftly, she snatched the phone from Ram's hand, her expression unreadable. "I'll call you later," she said hurriedly, cutting the call before Shipra could say anything more.

Ram watched her with a mixture of confusion and curiosity, his gaze searching hers for answers. "Who was that?" he asked, his voice tentative.

"No one important," Priya replied quickly, placing the phone in her bag and avoiding his eyes. "I made breakfast. You should eat it. And please... don't touch anything else."

She turned toward the door, her steps brisk, but before she could leave, Ram reached out and grabbed her wrist. "You're leaving me here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a vulnerability that caught her off guard. His eyes searched hers desperately. "Alone?"

Priya froze for a moment, then turned back to face him. "Yes," she said softly, yet firmly. "I have to go home now."

"But I don't... I don't feel safe alone," Ram admitted, his voice breaking slightly as he lowered his gaze. It was rare to see him this vulnerable, and it sent a pang of something unidentifiable through Priya's chest.

She hesitated, her own feelings warring within her, but she couldn't let herself stay. "Mrs. Mehra will be here soon," she said gently, pulling her wrist free. "Stay here until she arrives."

Priya sighed softly, settling into the chair across from Ram at the dining table. The breakfast she had prepared sat untouched in front of him, the steam from the coffee curling faintly in the air. Ram avoided her gaze, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of the table as the silence stretched between them.

She leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle but firm. "What triggered you last night, Ram? And why didn't you take your medicine?"

Ram's jaw tightened, his fingers stilling as he looked up at her. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't answer, but then he exhaled deeply, his voice low and trembling. "It was the dream again," he admitted, his eyes clouded with pain. "I was in a car. The car was drowning. I... I was holding onto my mom's hand, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep my grip. She slipped away. She was lost."

His voice broke, and he looked down at his trembling hands. "My dad... I couldn't see him. It's like his face is gone from my memory. The only thing I can ever see is her—my mom. And every time I dream about it, every time I lose her all over again, I feel like I'm drowning too."

Priya watched him quietly, her heart aching as she took in his torment. The strong, unshakable Ram she once knew seemed like a distant memory. This Ram, broken and vulnerable, was a stranger to her. And yet, in his pain, there was something deeply human, something that made her chest tighten.

"It's not your fault, Ram," she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotions churning within her. "These dreams... they're your mind's way of processing something you couldn't control. The more you think about them, the more power they'll hold over you. You have to let it go."

He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "It's not that simple, Priya. I feel like I've failed them. I survived, and they didn't. What kind of son does that make me?"

Priya's gaze softened, and she leaned forward, her voice gentle yet firm. "A son who was a child. A son who did everything he could. Sometimes, Ram, we can't rewrite the past, but we can choose how we let it shape our future. You've carried this burden for so long, but it's time to forgive yourself."

Ram looked up at her, his eyes filled with unshed tears. Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and yet soothing. For a moment, the silence returned, punctuated only by the faint clinking of Priya's spoon against her coffee cup as she took a sip.

"Eat your breakfast," she said softly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll stay until you finish."

Ram nodded reluctantly, picking up his fork. As he took his first bite, Priya leaned back in her chair, watching him with quiet resolve. Though the road ahead was uncertain, she couldn't ignore the pull to help him navigate through his darkness—even if it risked leading her closer to her own.

Ram nodded reluctantly, releasing her hand as he watched her retreat toward the door. Priya glanced back once before stepping out, her heart heavy with emotions she couldn't name. Outside, as the door clicked shut behind her, she leaned against the wall and exhaled shakily, silently willing herself to remain composed. Ram's brokenness tugged at her, but she couldn't afford to let herself be pulled back into the whirlwind of his life.

Inside, Ram sank into the couch, staring at the now-closed door. A faint sense of emptiness settled over him, though he couldn't quite explain why.

The morning sun bathed the residence in a soft glow as Priya stood outside the front door, her heart heavy with apprehension. She drew in a deep breath, willing herself to calm down, knowing what awaited her inside. Shipra Ji now knew about Ram. How much she had seen, how much she had understood—Priya wasn't sure, but the confrontation was inevitable.

Finally, she turned the key and stepped inside. The air was still, but the tension was palpable. Shipra Ji sat on the couch, her posture stiff, arms crossed, waiting. Priya tried to walk past her, avoiding the sharp gaze, but her mother's voice stopped her mid-step.

"Stop right there, Priya."

Priya froze, her back to Shipra, steeling herself before turning around. "Mom, I left you a note. I didn't think you'd—"

"I saw him," Shipra Ji interrupted, her voice trembling with restrained anger. "You were with Ram. That man. The one who destroyed your life, who gave you nothing but pain. What were you thinking, Priya? Are you planning to go back to him? Has he brainwashed you?"

Priya closed her eyes for a moment, exhaustion creeping into her voice. "Mom, please. Stop. You don't know what's going on."

"And I don't want to know!" Shipra's voice grew sharper. "But what I do know is that man is trouble. You have Peehu now, Priya. Think about her! What if he takes her from you? What if—"

"That's not going to happen!" Priya snapped, her tone firmer than she intended. She drew in a calming breath and softened her voice. "Ram doesn't even know about Peehu. He never will. And we're not getting back together. He's my patient now, Mom. That's it."

Shipra stood, closing the distance between them, her eyes filled with both fear and frustration. "Patient? You're treating him? Involving yourself in his mess again? How can you do this, Priya? How can you put yourself—and Peehu—at risk?"

"Because he's in trouble!" Priya's voice broke, the weight of the past night crashing over her. "He's lost his memory, Mom. He's a broken man. Whatever he did to me in the past, he's not the same Ram anymore."

Shipra reached out, placing her hands firmly on Priya's shoulders. Her voice softened, but the urgency remained. "Priya, listen to me. I know your heart is in the right place, but please, spare yourself. Spare your daughter. If you let him meddle in your life again, you may not survive it this time. Don't do this to yourself."

Priya looked away, her eyes welling with tears. The truth in her mother's words struck deep, but so did the memory of Ram's trembling hands and haunted eyes. Torn between the duty she felt toward him and the duty she owed to herself and her daughter, Priya could only whisper, "I'll be careful, Mom. I promise."

But as Shipra Ji's worried gaze lingered on her, Priya couldn't shake the fear that her mother might be right.