We Are Nothing to Each Other

The commuter train shuddered, then lurched forward, letting a rush of cool, oilyscented air sweep through its cramped carriage. A woman’s bright, inquisitive eyes flicked over the two youngsters sitting opposite her, a gentle smile never leaving her lips.

Sometimes you can tell at a glance that two people are meant for each other, she said, voice warm. Already married, or planning it?

The young man and the young woman, each tucked into opposite ends of the threeseat bench, lifted their heads from the glow of their screens. Their gazes met for a heartbeatconfused, questioning. Neither could place the strangers words, and both assumed she meant someone else.

Ah, how perfectly the world arranges things, the woman continued, settling more comfortably opposite them. Two fresh, open soulssuch a rarity these days!

Her comment hung in the air, unanswered. The woman on the phone dove back into her messages, while the man stared at his tablet, as if building an invisible wall between himself and the world. Yet the stranger was undeterred. She leaned back, studying the pair like rare exhibits, nodding approvingly to herself now and then. Then, as if a flash of inspiration struck her, she blurted out:

Your children will be adorable! A little girljust a carbon copy of her mum! And the boy?

Were not a couple, the young woman whispered, cheeks flushing, before glancing again at the man. A faint tremor lifted the corners of his mouth.

Come off it, youre teasing me! the woman replied with a sly grin, waving a hand. Her smile met only the womans serious, resolute expression. The strangers questioning gaze turned to the young man, who finally tore himself away from his digital world.

Not together? she asked, searching his eyes for confirmation.

He shook his head in silent denial, crushing her hopeful construction.

Ah, what a shame she sighed, clasping her hands across her chest, eyes fixed on the grimy window where the citys grey outskirts flickered by. Where are you looking? Even the trains little banner looks brighter than this!

Had she held back that sharp retort, perhaps they would have drifted apart after a fleeting encounter. Instead, her words fell like tiny, jagged stones into the still pond of their isolation. A seed of curiosityagainst their willwas planted in the soil of their solitude. Though neither intended to break the unspoken rule of solitary travel, that quiet whisper of intrigue began to outweigh prudence.

David.

For the fourth time he skimmed the same lines on his tablet, unable to grasp their meaning. His gaze, involuntarily rising from his brow, fell again on the unfamiliar woman beside him. She looks like she stepped out of a glossy poster. Not my type, but pleasant to watch.

David usually preferred brunettes, like his girlfriend, Clairedarkhaired with hazel eyes. Women with chestnut hair and honeybrown eyes, like this passenger, rarely sparked more than fleeting curiosity. Yet the womans blunt comment had lodged itself in his thoughts.

What a strange lookdirect, open, with a hint of mischief. And that habit of pulling a stray lock from her face, letting it fall across her cheek. Undeniably pretty, with an inner glow

He lingered a beat longer than necessary, his eyes locked with hers. A brief, embarrassed smile flickered on both faces before they quickly averted their gazes.

Evelyn.

Great, a perfect start to the daytrain and a bespectacled, bearded lad? Why does she think were a pair? Im not one for beards being a fashion statement! Its just laziness. And honestly, hes too quiet.

Scrolling through her endless social feed, she realised with irritation that she hadnt seen anything else for several minutes but the womans words echoing in her head. Evelyn glanced at the man cautiously, fearing another glance would be taken as flirtation.

Dont think Im winking at you! she thought, but her eyes met his again. A light, almost weightless smile brushed his lips, and she returned it reflexively.

His face interesting. Sharp eyes, intelligent look. A shame the beard hides his features, she mused. She waited until he dived back into his tablet, then inspected him more closely.

Handsome. Broadshouldered, looks athleticmaybe works in an office, perhaps IT. About twentyseven, give or take, she guessed, studying his hands resting on the device. In that instant

Their gazes locked once more, and this time the smiles that rose were less shy, more aware, tinged with genuine intrigue.

The carriage let out a long sigh as it reached the terminus, its doors swinging open. A surge of commuters flooded the sundrenched platform. The day was waning, and each passenger, like a soldier on a brief respite, fought to steal a few precious minutes from the evenings rush. Tempers frayed, people brushed past each other, nerves taut as violin strings.

In the crush, Evelyn was swept onto the platform, while David barely made it to the vestibule, tangled in the human tide. He rose onto his tiptoes, scanning the colourful crowd for the flash of auburn hair. Evelyn, not slowing her pace, raced along the platform, each click of her heels a stubborn hope: What if I catch up?

Not meant to be, David muttered, inching forward, the thought of a missed connection gnawing at him. Perhaps his fixation was a diversion from cracks opening in his relationship with Claire, a way to prove something to himself.

He descended into the tunnels yawning darkness, sprinted the last fifty metres, and dove into the closing doors of the departing carriage. He frozeshe was there.

Hed seen her a couple of stops earlier; now she met his gaze. Their eyes locked like old conspirators. He couldnt suppress a grin. She gave a brief nod, a silent pact of understanding.

Evelyn.

Ask her why she did itshe wont answer. Not out of secrecy, but because she doesnt understand herself. Why jump off a stop early? Selfpreservation? Or perhaps the sudden clarity of her own thoughts? After looping through the underground concourse, convinced no one followed, she returned to the platform.

Stupid! she cursed inwardly, fiddling with her bag strap. The panic now seemed both laughable and pathetic.

David.

Dumb! he muttered, flinging an imaginary stone at a trash bin. Shouldve approached! Shouldve walked out with her! Maybe this is the sign Ive been waiting for and I chickened out!

He alighted at his stop, drowning his bitter reflections in hot toast sandwiches at a tiny café near the tube exit.

They met again. He finished his last bite, stepped out, and saw her stationary, mouth halfopened in astonishment.

Are you following me? David smiled, unable to hide his delight.

Me? Follow you? she replied, a hint of offense in her tone. Will you let me pass? she asked, even though the pavement was deserted and wide.

No, he answered, his face breaking into a cheeky, boyish grin.

Really? she smiled back, the faux offense melting away.

They wandered the nightlit streets until dawn, unable to break the spell of this strange, magical connection. Both felt they had found the missing half of a longforgotten soul. Exhausted, intoxicated with happiness, they collapsed in a modest hotel room, phones off, the old lives barred from their newborn world.

He skipped work the next morning. She missed her lectures.

When everyone understands what happened to us, theyll forgive this sin, David said, hugging Evelyns shoulders as he signed a registeroffice form.

I think Ive gone mad, Evelyn laughed softly, looking at their intertwined names on the official document.

Weve both lost it, David replied, his laugh light and freeing.

They said goodbye at the registeroffice doors, planning to meet again that weekend to continue their madness. But within five minutes of parting, both phones buzzed. The old lifecruel, demanding, full of debts and obligationscrashed into their fragile destiny.

Evelyn.

What were you thinking, you fool? What do you even know about him? Who are his parents? Whats his background? I never expected my daughter to be so reckless!

For an hour and a half Evelyn sat hunched on the sofa, like a schoolgirl caught in a serious mischief. She babbled apologies, trying to drown the inner voice echoing her mothers doubts.

What about him? What does he think of you? Met on a train and straight to the bedroom! her mother snapped, disdain dripping.

Mum, we didnt

It doesnt matter! You know nothing about him! Only God knows what he thinks! How will you live with that?

Mum, were just exhausted and fell asleep

Fool! Simpleton! Did I ever teach you this? I was with your father for half a year before her mothers voice cracked, tears rising. She collapsed onto the sofa beside her daughter.

Evelyn embraced her, feeling a tight knot form in her throat.

Dont be like that, she whispered. I know this feels like madness, like fog.

Get the form, her mother said, wiping tears, cradling Evelyns face. If hes a good man, hell understand and wait.

Maybe we shouldnt rush? We have time to think, to get to know each other

Do you like him? her mother pressed, eyes locked on Evelyn.

Evelyn looked away.

Just yesterday I might not have even noticed him.

Exactly! This eclipse will pass, but the consequences remain! her mother clutched her tighter, a bitter tenderness in her voice.

What consequences? Evelyn asked.

The kind youll ask the chemist about! Change your number and never call him again.

She had to stop thinking about him, yet Davids shy smile and calm gaze haunted her. Not understanding why she actedfear, doubt, a vague hopeshe slipped off the train of her fate a stop early, clutching a tiny piece of plastic: her SIM card, ripped from her phone. She tossed it to a passing stranger and boarded the next train.

David.

Imagine that! Youve betrayed me! You rode the train straight to the register office! Claire, his girlfriend, sobbed silently, clutching her clenched fist to her mouth.

I was honest with you. I told you everything, David strained, holding back the urge to hug her, knowing it would only worsen things. You heard it first.

And I should thank you for that? she shouted, voice cracking. Our year and a half? All those love words? Do you not love me anymore?

She stood by the window, leaning on the sill, her posture raw with familiar, wounded vulnerability. David looked away. No, not now. Dont dig into this, he thought.

What about her? Claire demanded, eyes drilling into him. Which stop did you pick her up at?

Enough! David snapped. Shes just a girl. A student. We clicked. It isnt like our endless fights and accusations.

Youve known her less than a day! You know nothing! Does she just hop on commuter trains for fun? Claires tears dried, replaced by rising anger. What did she buy you?

Stop it, David whispered, still avoiding her gaze. She didnt buy me anything. It was my choice.

What does she have that I dont? Huh? Claire closed in, turning him towards her, her body bare with the rawness of a lovers hurt. Suddenly the veil of that chaotic day lifted, and he felt he might have made a monstrous mistake.

He found no words. Instead he seized her hand, pulling her close. Blind, desperate passion seized them; they fell onto a carpet, limbs tangled.

Minutes later, lying on the floor, breathing heavily, Claire asked, eyes on the ceiling:

This is goodbye?

Im sorry. Im an idiot, David murmured. He fumbled for his phone, opened the tray, and snapped the SIM card in half.

A month passed. Both Evelyn and David found their thoughts drifting back to that night, unconsciously slipping the fleeting, bright feeling into the drab routine of everyday life. Both agreed that night had been perfect, and both blamed themselves for the collapse.

Maybe he could have found me. It isnt that hard. He knows where I study! So he just didnt want to changed his mind, Evelyn reflected.

My address was on that form. If I wanted to, I could have found her, David thought.

Chance led David, on a day marked on his calendar as his wedding, to the street beside the register office. He handed documents to a colleague and, instead of descending into the tube, walked along the boulevard, entering a park.

Ill just have a stroll, he told himself. He wandered the paths, watching happy couples bathed in flashbulb light, surrounded by friends and photographers. Approaching the register office, he sat on a bench, becoming part of the bustling crowd awaiting newlyweds.

A stranger handed him a small packet of rice.

Only dont dump it on the brides hair, shes got a fancy updo, the man joked.

David took the packet reflexively. As the doors flung open and the crowd surged, he tore a corner and spilled a handful onto his palm. He lifted his hand to toss the rice, then saw her.

Evelyn. She stood on the opposite side of the makeshift aisle, looking straight at him.

David froze, rice still in his grip.

Hey, throw it already! the man shouted from the left, and David, on autopilot, shook the packet, scattering the grains over a passing brides head.

Laughter, shocked gasps, and the couples embarrassed smiles dissolved into the evenings noise. David tossed the empty packet aside, stepped toward Evelyn, and took her hands.

Sorry, they said together, the single word carrying remorse, hope, and a promise.

Got your passport? David asked softly.

She only nodded, unable to speak. He lifted her onto his arms, climbed the steps, and, after murmuring a quick thank you to the man with the rice, slipped inside the register office with his future wife.