Chapter 3
The old slippers on the floor were sagging at the edges, with a gray stain inside that never washed out.
I stared at them and let out a laugh. "Henry, how did I never notice before? You really draw such clear lines between people."
Henry's brow twitched. "Nina, it's a pair of slippers."
"A ticket's a ticket, a seat's a seat, and a lounge is a lounge," I replied.
I spoke very slowly.
"But when you add them all up, it's not that anymore," I continued.
Olivia lowered her gaze, holding her cup, her voice soft.
"Nina, are you misunderstanding me? Henry bought those tickets on his own. I never asked for them," she replied.
"I know," I answered.
I stared right at her. "That's the worst part. It was all his idea."
Her face went pale.
Henry instinctively stepped over to her side. "Nina, don't be so mean."
"Mean? Really? Is that worse than saying 'she can sit anywhere'?" I shot back.
That was when Henry finally lost his cool.
Olivia's hand froze.
She looked at Henry, her eyes quickly filling with tears.
"You really left that note for her?" Olivia asked, her voice trembling.
Henry looked like he was caught between us, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "I scribbled it down so the staff could sort out the tickets."
Olivia spoke softly. "Henry, I don't want to be the reason you two are fighting. Maybe I should go."
She tried to stand up, but as soon as her foot hit the floor, she winced and sucked in a breath.
Henry was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arm to steady her.
"Don't move," Henry said.
His hand stayed on her arm, protective and reassuring.
I remembered the last time I made the trip to Kingston.
It was pouring rain, the train was delayed, and I limped out of the station with my suitcase, ended up twisting my ankle, and called him for help.
He said he couldn't leave the lab and told me to take a cab on my own.
Later, Olivia posted a photo on her social media.
Henry was there, holding an umbrella for her, walking her to the campus clinic to get her bandages changed.
The caption read: [It's so nice to have someone who remembers my little injury.]
That day, all I could do was tap like on her post.
Now, thinking back, I felt so stupid my chest ached with regret.
"Stay or leave, makes no difference to me," I sent the thesis file to my own email and closed the laptop. "I'm leaving."
Henry saw me grab my suitcase, his voice going cold. "Where are you going the night before Thanksgiving?"
"To the station," I shot back.
"Don't be so dramatic."
The wheels of my suitcase rolled across the floor as Henry rushed after me, grabbing my wrist. "Nina, there aren't any train tickets left for tonight."
"I'll take a ticket, even if it's standing room."
"You really have to do this?" His grip tightened.
The pain shot through my wrist, and I looked up at him, "Let go."
Henry's expression was tangled, guilt, frustration, and that awkwardness of being called out. "I admit I messed up with the tickets, but you don't have to make such a big deal out of it."
Messed up.
Three years, twenty-nine trips, only to get brushed off as "Messed up." That's all I got.
Olivia, still lounging on the couch, suddenly piped up. "Henry, let her go. If Nina's really set on leaving, no one's stopping her."
She paused briefly, "But Kingston Station's totally packed right now. She's out there alone, dragging her suitcase. If something goes wrong, you'll end up feeling guilty all over again."
Henry didn't let go.
Instead, he pulled me back a step. "Did you hear that? Don't risk your safety to be stubborn."
"I'm not being stubborn," I gritted my teeth against the pain and tried to pull my wrist free. "I'm breaking up with you."
Everything went dead silent.
Henry stared at me, like he didn't get it at all.
Two seconds later, he actually laughed. "You're using a breakup to threaten me now?"
His phone suddenly buzzed.
A refund notification from the train app flashed across the screen.
Olivia's business-class reservation had been switched to tomorrow morning.
Henry's hand was still clamped around my wrist.