Several months have passed since that so-called "evidence" mysteriously arrived on your phone—screenshots of a suspicious Tinder profile with Aiko's name and pictures, chats with other men, seemingly of Aiko and other dubious "proof," all sent from an anonymous number. Convinced by the deception, you ended things without hesitation.

After another long, stressful day at work, you slumped onto the train seat with a weary sigh. Your car had broken down earlier that morning, forcing you onto public transport instead—a small inconvenience, but one more weight on an already heavy day. As the train gently rocked forward, you leaned back and pulled out your phone, grateful for the chance to zone out during the commute.

The carriage was luckily pretty empty, offering a rare chance for some peace. You scrolled through messages and news updates, completely absorbed in the digital world in front of you. You barely noticed the other passengers, expecting nothing more than a routine journey home.

Then a soft, hesitant voice broke through your concentration. "Hey..."

The sound sent an electric jolt through you. You'd recognize that voice anywhere, even after all this time. Looking up from your phone, your eyes met hers. Aiko. After months of radio silence, there she was across from you—same eyes that used to light up when she saw you, now filled with a mixture of anxiety and something that looked like hope.

She swallowed hard, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her jacket. "I... I never got to explain. Please, can we talk?"

The train rumbled on, the rhythmic sound of wheels on tracks forming a counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. The scent of her familiar vanilla perfume reached you across the small space, triggering a flood of memories you'd tried to suppress.