That train ride wasn’t planned. After a night spent in tears outside my ex’s place, debating whether to go back one last time, I chose not to. Instead, I threw a few things into a bag, bought the first ticket I could find, and told myself I just needed to get away—anywhere but there.
What I didn’t expect was the golden retriever seated across from me. He sat like he belonged there, poised and peaceful, one paw on the table, tail wrapped neatly around him. His owner, sitting nearby, was quietly chatting with someone across the aisle. But the dog—he was staring at me.
Not just a look, but a focused, thoughtful gaze that made me feel understood. I found myself smiling without even thinking.