Ellie checked her phone for the tenth time on the empty platform. 23:57. The last train was supposed to arrive three minutes ago, but the digital board now flashed in bold red: CANCELLED.
She let out a frustrated sigh and sank onto a bench. Rain dripped from the edges of the station’s canopy, catching the dim glow of yellow, fluorescent lights.
“Missed it too?”
The voice startled her. She glanced up to see a man, mid-thirties perhaps, standing a few feet away. He had an umbrella tucked under one arm, water dripping from the ends of his dark hair. His suit jacket looked expensive but thoroughly soaked.
“Looks like it,” Ellie replied, trying to sound polite but distant. He didn’t seem to notice her tone.
“Brilliant, isn’t it? Last train, and it’s just… gone.” He gestured dramatically at the empty tracks. “Like it never existed.”
Ellie gave him a thin smile, hoping it would dissuade further conversation. But instead, he dropped onto the other end of the bench.
“Name’s Blake,” he offered.
“Hi,” she responded, reluctantly.
She knew she should get up and call a taxi. But, for a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain. Then Blake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“So, what’s your excuse for being here this late? Let me guess—workaholic? Or maybe you’re running from a torrid love affair?” His grin was disarming, playful without being intrusive.
Ellie snorted despite herself. “Nothing so dramatic. Just bad luck, mostly.”
“Bad luck? That’s vague.”
She shrugged. “Missed the earlier train because I was stuck helping a customer. Retail life, you know?”
Blake nodded knowingly, though his tailored suit suggested he probably didn’t. “Ah, the noble life of serving the public. I salute you.”
“What about you?” Ellie asked, turning the question back on him. “What’s your excuse?”
Blake’s grin faltered slightly, and for a moment, he looked as though he were searching for an answer. “Work meeting ran late,” he said finally. “Caught in traffic, then—well, here I am. Story of my life, really. Always a step behind.”
Ellie raised an eyebrow. “You sound oddly resigned to it.”
He chuckled. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m just tired of fighting against fate.”
They fell quiet again, the awkwardness replaced by a curious sense of ease. Ellie glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. There was something strange about Blake, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. His presence felt… familiar, as if she’d met him before in some dream she couldn’t recall.
“You know,” Blake said suddenly, “there’s something almost poetic about this. Two strangers, stranded together in the middle of the night. Feels like the start of one of those rom-coms, doesn’t it?”
Ellie laughed. “If this were a rom-com, the train would magically appear, and we’d both realise it was fate.”
“Exactly!” Blake agreed, his enthusiasm infectious. “Then there’d be some dramatic twist—like, you’d be moving to Paris tomorrow, and this would be our last chance to confess our undying love.”
“Undying love?” Ellie teased. “Bit much, don’t you think?”
“Not if it’s fate,” he said with mock seriousness. “Fate loves a bit of drama.”
Ellie was about to retort when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen: a notification from her calendar. Mum’s anniversary – 9:00am. Her chest tightened.
“You okay?” Blake asked, his voice softer now.
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Just… tomorrow’s a hard day.”
Blake studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Want to talk about it?”
Ellie shook her head. “Not really.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “But, for what it’s worth, sometimes the hardest days turn out to be the most important.”
She frowned at him, puzzled by the weight of his words. Before she could respond, the faint rumble of an engine echoed in the distance. A train’s headlights pierced through the rain as it pulled into the station.
Blake stood, brushing water droplets from his trousers. “Looks like our miracle train’s here.”
Ellie rose too, suddenly reluctant to let the moment end. “Where are you headed?”
Blake smiled faintly. “This is where we part ways, I’m afraid.”
The train doors slid open with a hiss, and Blake stepped back. She paused in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder.
“Hey, Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For the company, I mean.”
He nodded. “Take care, Ellie.”
She stepped inside, the doors closing behind her. As the train pulled away, Ellie turned to look out the window. But the platform was empty. Blake was gone.
It wasn’t until much later, as she lay in bed replaying the night in her mind, that she realised something strange: she’d never told him her name.
