They had been commuting together for eight months without a single word. She knew the way he drank his coffee—black, two careful sips before setting the cup down. He knew the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she reached a tense chapter. But they were strangers, bound by unspoken rules of English train etiquette.
“Emma.”
A man in a suit cleared his throat, wanting to pass. They unclasped hands reluctantly. Leo retrieved her book and phone, handing them over with a crooked smile. She noticed a small scar on his wrist she’d never seen before. touchonthetrain
Emma looked up. He was closer than she’d ever seen him, his glasses slightly askew. “You okay?” he asked. His voice was lower than she’d imagined. They had been commuting together for eight months
They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride. But when the train pulled into Paddington, Leo stood aside to let her off first. At the ticket gates, he touched her elbow—just a brush, a question. But they were strangers, bound by unspoken rules
“Same time tomorrow?” he asked.