I never planned to be on that train. It was a spontaneous decision after a long night spent crying in my car outside my ex’s apartment, trying to decide whether to knock on the door one last time. I didn’t. Instead, I packed a small bag, bought the first ticket out of town, and told myself I just needed space—anywhere but there.
What I didn’t expect was the golden retriever sitting across from me. Calm and composed, he perched like a seasoned traveler, one paw resting on the table, tail neatly tucked around him. His human, seated nearby, chatted with someone across the aisle. But the dog—he was looking right at me.
Not a glance, but a steady, curious gaze that somehow made me feel seen. I couldn’t help but smile.
“He’s very social,” the man said, catching my reaction.
I nodded but couldn’t look away. There was something about the dog’s eyes—an understanding that went beyond words. As if he knew I was carrying something heavy. And then, without hesitation, he stood, walked over, and gently rested his chin on my knee.
I froze. The man looked surprised. “He never does that,” he said quietly.
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