Episode 8:Across The Distance
1496 Words
Mary sat on the edge of her bed, hugging her pillow tightly the same way she had been doing for almost two hours. The night outside was calm, but inside her chest, everything felt loud, messy, and uncertain. She could hear her siblings laughing in the living room, she could hear the neighborhood generator humming faintly, she could even hear the soft tick-tick of the old wall clock near her dresser—but none of those sounds mattered. The only thing she wanted to hear was Matthew’s voice. The same voice she hadn’t fully felt connected to all week.
Long-distance was always hard, but this week felt different. This week felt like something was shifting, like a slow crack was forming where the two of them used to stand firm. She didn’t know how to explain it, but sometimes love doesn’t shout—it whispers. And the whisper she heard lately was telling her something wasn’t right.
Her phone was beside her, screen facing down. She was tired of staring at it, tired of waiting for the dots to appear, tired of wondering what Matthew was thinking on the other side of the world. When they first started dating, he used to call almost every hour. Morning call, afternoon call, voice notes, random pictures of the sky, short messages telling her he missed her, sometimes even spammy “I love you” texts that filled her notifications. But now… everything felt reduced. Smaller. Tight. Like he was holding something back.
Her phone buzzed suddenly, and her heart jumped before her fingers even touched it.
MATTHEW: “Are you awake?”
Mary sat upright, chest tightening. She quickly wiped her face even though she wasn’t crying—just restless.
She typed: “Yes. I’m awake. Are you okay?”
He didn’t respond immediately. The typing dots appeared, then disappeared. Appeared again. Disappeared again. That alone made Mary’s heartbeat uneasy. Matthew only typed like that when he was nervous… or when something serious was on his mind.
Finally the message came:
“Can you step outside? I want to talk.”
Her breath caught.
Matthew never used that tone unless something heavy was pressing on him.
She stood up, grabbed her scarf, and quietly stepped out to the balcony so none of her siblings would ask questions. The night breeze brushed her skin, but it didn’t calm her. She dialed him immediately.
“Matthew?” she whispered.
His voice came low, soft, tired—like someone who had been fighting with his thoughts since morning.
“Mary… I miss you.”
Three simple words, but they sounded like a confession soaked in exhaustion.
She leaned against the railing. “Matthew, what’s wrong? You sound drained.”
There was a pause. A long one.
Then he sighed—a deep, shaky sigh she could feel through the phone.
“I’m trying, Mary,” he said quietly. “Every day. Working nonstop. Barely sleeping. Saving… planning… thinking. I’m tired. But I still want to make you proud.”
Mary closed her eyes slowly.
“Matthew, my love… you don’t need to stress yourself like this for me. We both barely sleep anymore. Look at you. You’re exhausted.”
Silence again—only the soft wind and her heartbeat filling the gap.
“That’s exactly the problem,” he whispered.
“I’m scared.”
Her heart froze. “Scared of what?”
“Scared of losing you because we’re far apart. Scared that someone closer will treat you better than I can from here.”
Mary felt something sharp in her chest—not pain, but shock.
“Matthew… why would you think that?”
“Because you’re everything,” he said.
“You’re beautiful, smart, kind… and you deserve someone present. Someone who can hold you when you cry, someone who can show up at your door, someone who doesn’t have to hide behind a screen all the time.”
She swallowed hard. “But Matthew, I chose YOU.”
He exhaled sharply, like her words hit something deep inside him.
“Mary, I know you chose me. I know you love me. But…”
His voice cracked slightly.
“The deeper I fall, the more the fear grows. What if the distance kills what we’re building? What if one day you wake up and realize someone close can give you what I can’t from here? I hate feeling powerless. I hate that you need me and I’m not physically there.”
Mary sat down on the balcony floor, hugging her knees.
“Matthew… love doesn’t need physical distance to die. Even people who live in the same house fall apart when they stop talking, when they hide their fears, when they pretend they’re okay. Distance doesn’t break relationships. Silence does. Secrets do. Doubt does.”
He didn’t speak.
The silence was long enough to make her think he was crying quietly.
Then finally—
“Mary… can I tell you something I’ve been holding in for weeks?”
“Tell me,” she whispered, heart pounding.
“I think you’re the one. I think I want to spend my life with you. And that’s what scares me. Because losing you… even the thought of it… breaks something inside me.”
Her eyes filled immediately.
She pressed her hand to her chest to stop the ache.
“Oh Matthew… I’m not going anywhere. Distance won’t destroy us unless we let it. We need to communicate more. Talk when it hurts, not when it’s convenient.”
He breathed out softly.
“I know. And I’m sorry for acting distant. I wasn’t trying to push you away. Honestly, I was scared my stress would push you into someone else’s arms.”
Mary shook her head even though he couldn’t see her.
“If I wanted someone else, I wouldn’t still be here loving you through months of late-night calls, bad network, missed messages, and long waiting. You think that kind of loyalty is ordinary?”
He chuckled weakly, and she could almost see him wiping his face.
“No, it’s not. And that’s why I’m trying harder. I’ve been working extra shifts because I want us to have a future. I want to visit you sooner. I don’t want distance forever. I want real weekends with you. Real hugs. Real dates. Not screen touches.”
Mary’s throat tightened.
“But Matthew, you should tell me when you’re doing too much. Don’t suffer alone just because you want to impress me.”
He nodded slowly. She heard it through the silence.
“You’re right.”
“Talk to me,” she repeated softly.
“No more hiding things from me. Promise?”
“I promise,” he whispered.
The night breeze grew calmer, almost warm, as if the world itself relaxed because they were finally speaking with honesty.
Matthew continued, voice steadier now.
“You know, sometimes I imagine what it will feel like the day I finally see you in person again. I don’t think I’ll even let you breathe. I’ll just hold you and forget the whole world.”
Mary smiled, tears streaming quietly.
“I think about that every day. Sometimes I wake up and imagine your arms around me. The real you. Not the video call you.”
He laughed.
A real one this time—soft, light, warm.
“Mary… do you know the crazy thing?”
“What?”
“Even when I’m tired, when my eyes are burning, when I can barely stand… you are still the person I want to hear.”
She hugged her pillow tighter.
“And you are the person I want to talk to when I’m scared,” she whispered. “Even when I don’t know how to say it.”
Another pause.
But this time, it was a peaceful one.
“Mary,” he said gently, “I want us to set some things straight tonight.”
“Okay,” she said.
“No more assuming. No more overthinking. If something feels off, we talk immediately. No waiting days. No fear of hurting each other.”
“Agreed,” she said softly.
“And… even when we’re tired, even when work is draining us… we choose each other. Deliberately. Daily.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Daily.”
He inhaled deeply.
“And Mary… I love you. I love you more than I know how to express from behind a screen.”
Her voice broke as she whispered, “I love you too, Matthew.”
For the first time in weeks, her chest felt light.
The night felt warm.
The distance felt smaller.
They stayed on the phone for hours—talking, joking, teasing, remembering how they started, promising how they would continue. And even though the miles between them didn’t change, their hearts moved closer—slowly, deeply, honestly.
And that night, something changed in their relationship:
Not the distance.
But the way they carried it—together.
- Writer
