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Two Weeks, Wrong City
romanceEveryone6 contributors · 5 paragraphs deep
"Then you come back," I said. "And you figure it out next time." She shook her head. "I mean what if two weeks isn't enough to know if... if something is real." She wasn't talking about Venice anymore. She was talking about us. My hand found hers. "Then we find out together."
"All passengers to Venice, please board from Platform 7," the speaker said. She didn't move. "I have to go," she whispered. "July 24th," I said. "Afternoon train. Same station." She squeezed my hand once, hard. "I believe you." Then she was walking toward Platform 7. I watched until she disappeared. Two weeks suddenly felt like a promise we'd keep.
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