Chapter 48
Aeron
She was acting incredibly secretive today.
After abruptly ending our call with a vague demand— “Four o'clock, train station.
I'll be waiting for you”—she ignored every call I made afterward.
Confused and worried, even panicked a little, I called Mom, hoping she'd know something.
She was just as clueless. All I heard was Astrid had stopped by the house, hugged her tight, said she was very happy, and left without explaining a thing.
When I got to the station, Astrid called me and told me to board the last compartment, and hung up. It felt like I was starring in some kidnapper’s game, waiting cluelessly for the next instruction. I stepped onto the train and spotted her near the footboard, standing with her back to me.
I hugged her from behind, pulling her back to a safe distance.
She startled, but relaxed quickly. I ran my thumb over her hand, feeling something hard clutched in her hands. I tilted my head for a better look, but she tugged her oversized shirt over it, blocking my view entirely. “You’re being very secretive today.”
The train began to move.
She tilted her head back slightly, eyes playful. “What, I can't be Aeron for a day?”
“No.” I kissed her hair, breathing her in. “I’m already missing my Astrid.”
She laughed, soft and warm like late afternoon sunrays, my favorite music.
“What did you want to tell me?” Sometimes it still hit me out of nowhere, that she was here , in my arms , that this was real , that she was mine .
She leaned her head against my chest. “Want to hear a story?”
“I’m all ears.” I had a hunch it was going to be about some client who’d driven her crazy.
“Two strangers met on a train,” she began. I circled my thumb over the back, encouraging her to continue, a signal, I was listening even as curiosity burned wondering what she was hiding in her hands.
“They exchanged notes for five days.”
My thumb stilled.
She continued. “He saw her for the first time in the guard’s compartment. He captured her picture he still keeps.”
It began to click, it wasn’t a random story. It was ours.
She’d opened the grey box—that was the only explanation.
Nobody else knew about that picture. I'd never breathed a word about it to anyone. Suddenly, everything made sense. This little culprit must’ve snuck into my room when she went home.
I'd assumed she'd forgotten all about it, but I'd clearly underestimated her determination.
“On the last day, she asked if they could meet...”
She paused.
“And then?” I knew exactly where the story stopped. I’d lived that ending, revisited it every year. But I still wanted to hear her finish it, to know how the ending sounded from her side. Had she remembered only after opening the grey box?
She turned to me, eyes loaded with longing. “Your note never reached me, Aeron.” All pretence fell away—she wasn't narrating a story anymore. She was telling me ours.
“W..hat?”
Her voice cracked. “I never got your note.” She repeated.
“If it had?” I had to know her answer. Would she have said yes to a date? Would she have wanted to see me, not just as strangers exchanging notes, but as something more?
The tunnel closed around us, pulling us into darkness. Astrid opened my fingers and placed something small—a tiny notebook—into my hand. “My reply’s in there.”
I never thought I’d see this tiny notebook again. I turned the pages, breath catching hard at the words staring back at me in that chicken scratch handwriting.
A thousand times yes. I’ll go on a date with you.
The thought that she hadn’t forgotten, that we’d been in this together all along, ignited a fire in my body. My fingers found her hair, pulling her closer, rough but gentle, exactly how I felt about her. I kissed her hard, deep, all the patience of five years had snapped.
She was breathless when we broke apart. I pressed my forehead gently against hers, breathing her in. “Where did you find this?”
The explanation she gave—that she'd found it in Simon’s personal belongings, I didn't know if I should shake my head at her sneaky curiosity or kiss her senseless. She’d gone sneaking around behind my back, digging for truth, and ended up finding our secret.
If it wasn’t for her, this would've stayed hidden forever.
I never would have brought it up again, and she never would have asked.
“I have one more thing for you.” She walked over to the seat where she'd left her bag, and returned holding the Cryptex box. She placed it in my hands. “You asked what my secret was, right? The password is the date we met.”
The box clicked open once I set the date. Inside was the ticket, edges a little worn, along with the tiny honey bottle I’d given her. The irony hit me square in the chest—I’d spent all this time jealous over a secret that was mine all along.
A smile pulled at my lips. “What happened to the chocolates?”
She bit her lip, looking adorably guilty. Wrapping her arms around me as if she'd committed a serious crime, she confessed. “When your reply never came, I got so upset that I ate them. All of them, in one night.”
“You didn’t even spare the wrappers?”
She hit my chest. “I’m not a goat.”
I was glad she'd eaten them. There was no way I would've let her touch five-year-old chocolates anyway.