We Are Nobody to Each Other

The commuter train shuddered to life, pulling a gust of fresh air through its oilsmelling, dusty carriage. A woman with bright, lively eyes kept watching the two youngsters sitting opposite her, her approving smile never fading.

Sometimes you can see at a glance when two people are made for each other. Are you already married or planning it? she asked, her voice cheerful.

The young man and woman, perched at opposite ends of the threeseat bench, lifted their heads from their screens. Their eyes met for a split secondconfused, questioning. Neither could tell who the stranger meant, and both assumed she was talking about someone else.

Ah, isnt fate just clever, the lady continued, settling more comfortably opposite them. Two bright, open soulswhat a rarity these days!

Her words hung in the air, unanswered. The woman dived back into her smartphone, the man stared at his tablet, each building an invisible wall around themselves. Undeterred, the lady examined the pair like museum pieces, nodding approvingly to herself now and then. Then, as if struck by inspiration, she blurted out:

Your future children will be adorable! A little girl will be a spitting image of you, and the boy

Were not a couple, the woman said softly, cheeks tinged pink, her voice cutting through the womans daydream.

The mans mouth twitched into a restrained smile.

Come off it, youre teasing me! the lady replied with a mischievous grin, but her smile met only a serious, almost resigned expression from the woman. She turned her questioning gaze to the young man, who finally set his device aside.

Not together? she asked, seeking confirmation in his eyes.

He shook his head silently, shattering her hopeful construction.

Oh, what a shame, she sighed, crossing her arms on her chest and staring out the grimy window at the grey outskirts of the city. Where are you looking? Even the sidewindow has a ribbon of light!

If she had let that sharp remark go unsaid, the encounter might have ended as a fleeting moment on a train. Instead, her words fell like tiny stones into the quiet pool of their isolation, planting a seed of curiosity against their better judgment. Though neither intended to break the unspoken rule of solitary travel, a whisper of interest grew louder than the voice of prudence.

Daniel Harper.

For the fourth time he skimmed the same paragraph on his tablet, unable to grasp its meaning. His gaze drifted, and he saw the stranger beside him again.

She looks like she stepped out of a glossy poster. Not my usual type, but pleasant to watch.

Daniel usually preferred brunettes, like his girlfriend Kate, with chestnut hair and honeybrown eyes. Redhaired women, like the lady in the carriage, rarely sparked more than a passing curiosity in him, never anything romantic. Yet after the other passengers blunt comment, the redhead lingered in his thoughts.

What an unusual lookdirect, open, with a flicker of mischief. She twirls a stray lock of hair away from her face. Undeniably attractive, and theres a faint inner glow about her he mused, lingering a beat longer than necessary. Their eyes met briefly, a shy smile flaring on both faces before they quickly looked away.

Poppy Clarke.

Great, a perfect start to the day: commuter train and a bespectacled, bearded bloke? Why does she think were a pair? Me, with a scruffy beard? Its just laziness, not fashion. And hes far too quiet.

Scrolling through endless socialmedia feeds, she realized she hadnt seen anything else for several minutes except the womans words looping in her mind. She glanced furtively at Daniel, fearing he might think she was flirting.

Dont think Im winking at you! she thought, but the glances collided again. A light, almost weightless smile touched his lips, and she mirrored it involuntarily.

Hes got an interesting face, a sharp, intelligent look. Its a pity the beard hides his features, she noted internally. She waited until he was again absorbed in his tablet, then studied him more closely.

Hes fit, perhaps an exathlete, looks about twentyseven, probably works in an office or IT. She lingered on his hands resting on the screen. In that instant their eyes met once more, this time with a steadier, more genuine spark.

The train let out a long sigh, pulled into the platform and threw open its doors. A tide of commuters surged onto the dusklit station. Everyone seemed intent on stealing a few precious minutes from the evening rush. The crowd jostled, nerves taut as violin strings.

In the crush, Poppy was swept onto the platform, while Daniel barely made it to the concourse, stuck in the human whirlpool. He rose onto his toes, scanning the sea of people for the flash of ginger hair. Poppy, keeping her pace, darted along the platform, her heels clicking in time with a foolish, lingering hope: What if I catch up?

Its not meant to be, Daniel muttered, moving forward slowly, his mind replaying the nearmiss. The thought of a missed connection gnawed at him, perhaps a subconscious escape from the cracks forming in his relationship with Kate.

He descended into the dim tunnel of the underground, burst into a sprint for the last fifty metres, and slammed into the closing doors of the final carriage. He frozeshe was there.

He had been stealing glances at her for a couple of stops when she finally looked up, meeting his gaze like old conspirators. He couldnt suppress a smile; she gave a brief nod, a silent acknowledgment of shared understanding.

Poppy.

If you asked her why shed stepped off a stop early, she couldnt answer. Instinct? Fear of her own thoughts? After looping the station concourse, she made sure no one followed and returned to the platform.

Stupid! she cursed herself, fidgeting with her bag strap. The panic now seemed absurd and pitiable.

Daniel.

Fool! he rebuked himself, hurling an imagined stone at the rubbish bin. I should have walked up to her! I should have gone with her! Maybe it was a sign, and I chickened out.

He alighted at his stop, drowned his lingering bitterness in hot toasties at a tiny café near the tube exit.

Later they met again. Daniel was finishing his last bite when Poppy appeared, stopping dead in her tracks, mouth slightly ajar in surprise.

Are you stalking me? he laughed, unable to hide his grin.

Me? Stalk? she snapped back, a hint of hurt in her voice. Will you let me through? she asked, though the pavement was empty.

No, he replied, his face alight with a boyish grin.

Really? she smiled, the tension melting away.

They wandered the nightlit streets until dawn, unable to break the strange, magical bond that had formed. Both felt as if they had found the missing half of a longlost soul. Exhausted and intoxicated with happiness, they fell asleep in a modest hotel room, phones switched off, the old lives kept at bay.

The next morning Daniel missed work; Poppy skipped her lectures.

When everyone learns what happened to us, theyll forgive our foolishness, Daniel said, signing the marriage register with a confident flourish.

I think Ive gone mad, Poppy giggled, looking at their intertwined names on the official form.

We both lost our heads, Daniel added, his laughter light and freeing.

They promised to meet again that weekend, but within minutes their phones buzzed. The ordinary worlddebts, duties, unspoken expectationscrashed back in, harsh and demanding.

Poppys mother burst in, voice sharp.

What were you thinking, you fool? Do you even know his family? His background? I never expected my daughter to be so reckless!

Poppy, huddled on the sofa, tried to explain, her thoughts echoing her mothers doubts.

Hes just a guy we met on a train, and we ended up together, she whispered, eyes brimming with tears.

Her mothers sigh softened. If hes truly good, hell understand and wait.

Later, Daniels own girlfriend, Kate, confronted him at the station, eyes red with hurt.

I was honest with you, he said, voice trembling. I told you everything. You found out first.

You expect me to thank you for breaking us? she shouted, the words spilling over.

He could only stare, the weight of his choices pressing down.

A month passed. Both Daniel and Poppy found themselves replaying that night in their minds, each trying to stitch the fleeting brilliance into the dull fabric of daily life. They each blamed themselves for the collapse, yet both remembered the perfection of that brief encounter.

One afternoon, Daniel walked past the marriage office, a packet of rice handed to him by a stranger with a grin. He tossed the grains into the air, and at that moment Poppy appeared on the other side of the crowd, their eyes locking once more.

He froze, the rice spilling onto a nearby brides head, causing a burst of laughter and protest from the wedding party. He dropped the empty packet, took her hands, and they whispered apologies that held remorse, hope, and promise all at once.

Did you take my passport? he asked quietly.

She nodded, unable to speak. He lifted her onto his shoulders, climbed the steps, and, after thanking the stranger whod given him the rice, stepped inside the building with his future wife.

The night taught them that chance meetings can ignite a fire, but it is the courage to act on that spark that shapes a life. In the end, they learned that waiting for destiny is a gamble; stepping forward, even clumsily, is the only way to turn fleeting moments into lasting happiness.