The night was quiet—too quiet.
Ady stared at the ceiling, the sound of the electric fan in his dorm buzzing in a lazy rhythm. Finals week was over. The chaos, the pressure, the fog in his brain—it had all begun to fade.
But not the ache in his chest.
Not the feeling that he had left something important behind in the storm.
Someone.
Someone he couldn't afford to lose.
He reached for his phone.
No more hesitation.
No more waiting.
The Call That Almost Didn't Happen
He dialed her number.
One ring. Two. Three.
His heartbeat felt louder than the ringtone.
What if she didn't answer?
What if she had moved on from the silence?
But then—
"Hello…?"
Her voice.
Soft. Cautious. A little surprised.
It hit him like a wave.
He sat up quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Ellie… it's me."
A beat of silence.
Then: "Hey."
He closed his eyes. Just hearing her say that word was enough to make everything inside him crack open.
"I—I'm sorry," he began, voice shaking more than he expected. "For everything. For being gone. For not calling. I never meant to shut you out."
Ellie didn't speak right away.
Then, slowly, she said, "I waited."
His throat tightened. "I know."
"I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore."
"I wanted to," he said quickly. "Every single day. I just… didn't know how. I didn't want to bring you into the stress I was in."
"I would've been okay with that," she whispered. "Even just hearing your voice once a week would've been enough."
"I know," he said again, quieter. "I just didn't want to make you worry about me."
"You already did," she said with a small, dry laugh.
Catching Up with a Heartbeat in Between
They sat on the line, quiet for a moment. Not an awkward silence—just a full one.
"Finals are over," Ady said finally.
"Yeah," Ellie replied. "You okay?"
He smiled faintly, even though she couldn't see it. "Tired. But okay. I actually… I did well."
"Oh?" Her voice lifted, curious.
"I perfected two of my major exams," he said, pride creeping into his voice despite everything. "And our group defense went really well. I led the presentation, and my prof even said I was the most composed speaker."
Ellie let out a soft, warm laugh. "Of course you were."
He chuckled. "Felt like I was going to pass out right after. But yeah… I think I made my parents proud."
"I'm proud of you too," she said gently. "Even if you didn't call."
He paused. That meant more than she'd ever know.
Ellie's Turn
"What about you?" he asked. "How was your week?"
She sighed on the other end, but not a heavy sigh—more like a breath she'd been holding. "Exhausting. I had back-to-back presentations, and two professors who I swear enjoy torturing us."
Ady laughed. "Sounds familiar."
"But I pulled through," she added. "I even got complimented by one of my professors for my marketing pitch."
He smiled. "That's my girl."
She didn't respond to that immediately, but the air between them shifted. Warmer now.
"You really mean that?" she asked quietly.
He nodded, forgetting she couldn't see. "Yeah. I do."
The Distance Between Words
There was a moment of silence again. But it wasn't empty. It was full of things unsaid.
She finally asked, "Did you ever think about giving up on me?"
He froze.
Then answered honestly, "No. Not once."
She let out a soft breath. "Because I almost did."
His heart dropped.
"I know," she continued, "it wasn't fair of me. But there were nights I cried wondering if I was just some distraction you outgrew."
"You weren't," he said firmly. "You were the reason I kept going."
She was quiet again.
Then: "Even when we didn't talk?"
"Even then."
What They Lost—and Found
"I missed you," she said suddenly, voice cracking just slightly.
He closed his eyes. "I missed you too. Every single day."
"I hated not hearing from you," she admitted. "I thought I wasn't important anymore."
"You are," he said. "You still are."
"Then why didn't you tell me that?"
"I was scared you'd think I was weak," he confessed. "I felt like I was drowning and I didn't want you to see me like that."
"I would've held you," she whispered. "Even just through the screen. I would've waited for you to breathe."
He could feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes.
"I didn't know how to say I was struggling," he said.
"You don't always have to be strong for me, Ady."
"I know that now."
More Than Just Words
They talked for hours.
About professors, and how one of Ellie's would always say "anyways" instead of "anyway." About how Ady had accidentally called his teacher "Mom" in front of the class. About how Ellie once spilled coffee on her blouse before a presentation and had to wear her hoodie for the whole thing.
They laughed.
And cried a little.
And laughed again.
The way they used to.
It felt like healing.
Dreaming Again
At some point, Ellie said, "I missed dreaming with you."
"What do you mean?"
"Like when we used to talk about the future. About how life would be if we got to be together after college."
He smiled. "I think about that all the time."
"Still?"
"More now than ever."
She was quiet. Then softly: "I still want that."
He leaned back on his pillow, heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "Me too."
If They Made It Through This
"If we survived this," Ellie said, "maybe we can survive anything."
"We will," he said.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Because I'm not going anywhere this time."
"Promise?"
He didn't even hesitate. "Promise."
Good Night Doesn't Mean Goodbye
By the time they hung up, it was already past 3 a.m.
But neither of them cared.
Their hearts felt lighter. Their bond felt stronger.
Before ending the call, she whispered, "I'm really happy you called."
He smiled, voice soft. "I should've called sooner."
"But you called now," she said. "That's enough."
He held onto her voice in his memory like a song he never wanted to forget.
"Goodnight, Ellie."
"Goodnight, Ady."
The call ended.
But this time, it didn't feel like something was ending.
It felt like something had just begun again.