Midnight at the Train Station

The station was nearly empty at this hour, save for the distant hum of a vending machine and the occasional rustle of a newspaper. The fluorescent lights flickered slightly, casting a glow over the polished floors.

Olivia sighed, hugging her coat tighter around herself as she glanced at the old clock on the wall. 11:47 PM. Her train was late. Again.

“Rough night?”

She turned her head and found herself staring into a pair of familiar hazel eyes. Ethan.

Of course.

“You could say that,” she muttered, trying not to sound too affected by his presence.

Ethan smirked, dropping onto the bench beside her. “Missed the last train?”

“Delayed.”

“Figures,” he said, stretching out his legs. “This station’s a black hole for punctuality.”

She scoffed. “Tell me about it.”

This wasn’t the first time they had crossed paths here. Olivia wasn’t sure if it was fate or just a very inconvenient coincidence, but for the past three months, she had run into Ethan at this very train station—always late at night, always on nights when she was too tired to deal with old history.

Because that’s what they were—history.

Once upon a time, Ethan had been hers. They had spent two years wrapped up in a love that burned bright and fast, until life pulled them in opposite directions. And yet, here they were, time and time again, stuck in the same place at the same time.

“So,” Ethan said after a pause, “how’ve you been?”

Olivia glanced at him. “Really? We’re doing the small talk thing?”

He huffed a laugh. “Would you rather sit in awkward silence?”

She thought about it, then sighed. “Fine. I’ve been… okay.”

“Just okay?”

She shot him a look. “You don’t get to ask follow-up questions.”

Ethan held up his hands in surrender. “Got it. No prying.”

A beat of silence stretched between them. Then he exhaled. “For what it’s worth, I’ve missed you.”

Olivia’s fingers tightened around the strap of her purse. “Ethan…”

“I know,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I hate that we left things the way we did.”

She swallowed. “We made our choices.”

He nodded, looking down at his hands. “Yeah. We did.”

The station announcement crackled overhead, breaking the tension. Her train would arrive in five minutes.

She stood, brushing off imaginary dust from her coat. “Well. Guess that’s my cue.”

Ethan stood too, hesitating. “Olivia—”

She turned to him, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them felt charged, like they were standing on the edge of something neither dared to name.

And then, softly, he asked, “Would it be crazy if I asked to see you again?”

Her breath hitched. She wanted to say no, that it wasn’t a good idea, that the past should stay where it belonged.

But instead, she found herself whispering, “Maybe not.”

A slow smile tugged at his lips. “Then maybe I’ll take that as a yes.”

The train rumbled into the station, and as Olivia stepped on board, she looked back one last time. Ethan was still there, hands in his pockets, watching her with that same look he used to give her—the one that made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, their story wasn’t over after all.