Delayed

Until the very last moment, Ella had hoped that it wouldn’t rain. It started drizzling the second she reached her platform, and it absolutely shouldn’t have surprised her. In fact, if the past week was any indicator of how the day was going to go, she could’ve predicted it with certainty.

She glanced at her watch. Her train was supposed to depart in two minutes. At least she wasn’t the only one standing there. That put her mind at ease. But she alone had no umbrella. And of course her platform just so happened to be the only one without a roof. The hood of her jacket did everything in its power to keep her dry but even it had its limits.

Desperately looking for any sign of the train, her eyes wandered. Orange letters blinked into existence on the display. The end of the line that began with her destination announced brightly: DELAYED.

She’d planned to leave a week after graduating, but on the last night out with her classmates, she met Jamie. Within a week, they were a couple, in six weeks moved in together. That was three years ago.

Three years can be a very long time or just a glimpse, depending on how you look at it.

Three years’ worth of memories—countless games of UNO, weekend road trips, date nights and rainy October staycations, chocolate chip pancakes and the world’s worst porridge—add up to something big. Something worth fighting for. Something worth saving.

That’s what she’d been doing. That’s all she’d been doing. Always fighting. Always saving.

But at the same time, three years is just a fraction, a skinny slice from the big, thick pie called life. Proof of that was standing right next to her in the pouring rain.

The past three years had fit into two pink carry-ons and one worn-out sports bag. That’s not a lot of bags. In fact, it was less than what Ella had packed when she first moved there for school.

Three years pressed together, zipped up. The first suitcase was full of neatly folded weeks, stacked in perfect piles. The second one full of carefully positioned days like Tetris blocks—each one with a wonky shape, but when you’re skilled enough, they fit together perfectly.

The sports bag? That was an emergency kit. It wasn’t planned. But when she was rolling her two suitcases to the door, she stumbled on more things she hadn’t thought to pack at first. A random memory here and a little moment there.

She filled the bag to the brim, threw it over her shoulder, and ran for the taxi. There was so much she could never take with her. Smiles that would never go further than those walls. Conversations that would never leave this apartment. Touches that would only ever live in that bedroom.

The orange "DELAYED" still glowed on the board in all its glory, like an omen over the rest of her life, or a malicious summary of the past three years.

In the hope of spotting even a sliver of blue sky, Ella did a full turn, but no matter which way she looked, everything was the same—gray.

Although the wind and the rain whipped at her face ruthlessly, she was secretly grateful because no one could tell that half of the water on her face was tears.

Finally, the train slowly approached the platform. Ella grabbed the handles of her suitcases, ready to escape the downpour. The screeching voice of a woman echoed from the open train doors: "Apologies, passengers! We were delayed due to technical issues, however everything is now resolved. We will be departing in exactly five minutes. Departure at 10:10."

Since ten o’clock on a Wednesday wasn’t exactly a peak travel time, the coaches were nearly empty. Ella managed to snag a seat by a table and shoved her suitcases under it.

Out of the rain at last, she quickly shed her soaking wet jacket, sat down, and combed her hair with her fingers. Her hairbrush was probably at the bottom of one of those suitcases and she had absolutely no intention of opening them here. She knew what would be waiting for her inside.

But ironically—the things that weren’t in there hurt even more. Everything she’d wanted but never got. Everything she’d asked for but had been denied. All the things she’d been promised but never received.

Ella crossed her arms over her chest like a pouting child arguing with a parent. But she only fought with herself. A part that believed in one more chance and a part that had made a promise to herself.

"Ella, give him time. He’ll come around."

"You made a promise to yourself, Ella!"

"Just a little longer, Ella."

"You’ve given him enough chances, Ella."

"Ella!"

Startled, she glanced around. Had she really said that out loud? Luckily, she was the only one in the coach. With a deep breath, she shifted in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position for the next five hours.

"Ella!"

This time she was sure it didn’t come from her mouth. Her pulse quickened as if knowing what was coming. She looked around, trying to find the source of the familiar voice.

Finally, her eyes stopped on a soaked and panting Jamie, pressing his hands against the train window. Her heartbeat louder than the tumbling rain on the roof, Ella stood and walked to the open door. Their eyes locked.

"One minute until departure!" the woman’s voice screeched behind her as she made her way from the back of the train to the front.

"Please, Ella, please don’t leave! I’m so sorry—for everything! Please give me another chance. I promise you, I’m ready. I promise I’ll be better. I was just scared before. We can do everything you’ve been wanting. And I’ll do all the things you’ve been asking. I don't know how to live without you. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I need you! Please, Ella, please! I’ll do anything and everything you want for the rest of my life!"

Ella stood with one foot in the train and the other on the platform—half in, half out. The doors began beeping and she heard the others closing with loud bangs. She glanced behind her at her pink suitcases and the soaking wet jacket, then back at Jamie, and noticed her hand had lifted, hovering between them as if expecting to be met. And the big bright "DELAYED" out on the board burned through the rain.

She stepped back—and the doors banged shut between them.