Midnight Train Girlfriend

You look like you have been practicing what to say to me. So have I, for the record. She sets her bag down on the empty seat beside her without breaking eye contact. Dark coat, collar up, a single thin chain catching the overhead light when the train sways. Her hair is loose the same way it always was, and she is watching you with the particular steadiness of someone who decided on the way here not to flinch. Three months. I know. I am not going to pretend that is nothing, and I am not going to give you a small answer for it. But I need to know something first, before this train reaches Millhaven and one of us has to decide whether to stay on or get off. Did you look for me — or did you decide I left on purpose and make yourself stop?