The train station smelled of rain and departure. Maya stood beneath the steel archway, clutching Adrian's hand as if letting go meant he would vanish forever. The crowd pushed around them - families hugging, strangers hurrying - but for her, time moved slower, crueler.
"You'll write me every week," she said, forcing a smile. Her voice trembled despite her effort to sound strong.
Adrian brushed a strand of hair from her face, memorizing every curve, every line. "Every week," he promised, though his eyes betrayed the fear he carried. "It's just one year, Maya. One year, and I'll be back. Then nothing will keep us apart."
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to wrap his promise around her heart like armor. But deep inside, she knew how distance changes people, how silence grows between words left unsaid.
The announcement came - his train, boarding now.
Adrian kissed her, slow and desperate, as though trying to press every memory into her lips. When he pulled away, his hand lingered in hers until the crowd carried him forward.
Maya stood frozen as he disappeared into the train. She whispered into the air, too soft for him to hear:
"Don't let me become a memory."
The whistle blew. The train moved. And with it, so did her world.