I woke up in tears. I didn’t even understand why I was crying so much—hadn’t I run out of tears before? But this dream… It felt like it had pulled something out of me, something I had buried deep inside.
We were sitting in a car. It was dark, and only the occasional streetlight cast a soft, yellowish glow inside. He was next to me, his eyes full of tenderness, his voice gentle, almost a whisper:
— I want a son with YOU… Only with you…
I didn’t answer. Not because I had nothing to say, but because I couldn’t. Inside, a storm—a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts, memories—but not a single word could break free. Only tears could. They streamed down my cheeks, soaked into my clothes.
He kept looking at me, unwavering, then finally pulled me into his arms. There was warmth in that embrace, a sense of safety, love… But it only made the weight on my chest heavier. His closeness didn’t ease the burden—it deepened it.
I wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in my throat. So I just cried.
And then… I woke up. My heart was racing, my cheeks were wet, but I was here. In reality. The only relief? He hadn’t been in my dreams all night.