The 500th Journey

My boyfriend proposed to me when we graduated from high school, but I made a deal with him instead of giving him an immediate answer. "We'll get married when we've collected 500 train tickets." In the first year, Marcus could hardly wait to come see me every day. Before long, our collection had grown to 280 tickets. He even laughed and said that he'd be able to take me home as his wife before graduation at the rate he was going. In the second year, we met each other halfway. Soon, the number of tickets climbed to 400. But in our third year, Marcus told me that his advisor had taken on a new project and that a junior who had just joined the research team needed him to show her the ropes. He became swamped, so I ended up visiting him most of the time. Meanwhile, he only came to see me occasionally. By the end of the year, we had barely managed to collect 460 tickets. In our fourth year, he said he was too busy with internship interviews, leaving me no choice but to pull several all-nighters to finish my assignments so that I could spend a weekend going to see him. We finally collected 499 train tickets just before graduation. I secretly put on a white wedding dress, slipped on the ring he'd given me when he proposed, and boarded a train. I wanted to surprise Marcus. I wanted to tell him that we had finally reached 500 tickets. I wanted to tell him that I was ready to marry him. But when I arrived at the foot of his dormitory building, my heart full of anticipation… I saw Marcus holding another girl tightly, surrounded by a large heart of flickering candles. He lowered his head and kissed her on the lips amid the cheers and teasing from the crowd. Chapter 1 The 500th Ticket When I got on the train, I immediately felt people sneaking glances in my direction. I couldn't fault them for it. After all, it wasn't every day one would find a bride wearing a wedding dress on a train. "Sweetheart, are you going to see your boyfriend? You've even put on such a pretty wedding dress," the older woman sitting beside me asked, smiling kindly. I nodded, my cheeks flushing. "Yeah. I'm going to propose to him." As I spoke, I gently rubbed the little metal box in my palm. There were 499 train tickets resting inside, all neatly arranged in a stack. Marcus Jeffries and I had started dating in high school. At our graduation, he had gotten down on one knee on the field and proposed to me, slipping a ring made from a soda can tab onto my ring finger. Since our universities were on opposite ends of the country, he had been afraid that the long distance would eventually tear us apart. I hadn't given him an answer back then. Instead, we made a promise: we would register our marriage once we had collected 500 train tickets. And so, we'd lived frugally and saved wherever we could for the past four years, turning almost all our living expenses into train tickets so we could fulfill our promise as soon as possible. Eventually, we finally managed to collect 499. And this trip would be the 500th. I wanted to surprise Marcus. He had proposed to me four years ago. So, I wanted to turn the tables on him four years later and tell him, "Yes. Let's get married." The older woman gave me a thumbs-up. "There aren't many girls as brave as you these days. Your boyfriend is going to be over the moon." Over the moon? I lowered my eyes. A faint thread of uncertainty had begun to stir beneath my happy facade. The truth was, Marcus had been growing distant toward me over the past six months. During our first year together, he had been so eager to take me home as his wife that he'd come to see me once every three days. He always took the slow, old-fashioned trains, spending more than ten hours on each journey. By the time he reached the entrance of my university, his legs would often be so swollen that he could barely walk. But now, he could take several hours just to reply to one of my WhatsApp messages. And it was always the same reason—"Internship is too busy, Evie. You need to be a little more understanding." I believed Marcus. I believed he really was exhausted. I believed that once we got through this period, once we'd graduated and settled down, once we'd gotten married, everything would be all right. That lasted until the day I lifted the hem of my wedding dress and hurried to his dormitory building, only to see the hands that had once kept me warm through the winter now gently cradling another girl's face. I knew that girl. Marcus had mentioned her to me countless times. She was the junior he'd always described as "clumsy and needing someone to teach her everything"—Jane Stanley. A wave of excited cheers erupted from the crowd. "C'mon, Jeffries! One more kiss for the crowd!" Jane's face flushed crimson, and she buried it against Marcus' chest. Marcus laughed and shielded her protectively, feigning a kick at the guy who had shouted. "Cut it out. Jane's shy." His voice was still as tender and indulgent as ever. However, that tenderness was no longer meant for me. I stood beneath a streetlamp just a few steps away, dressed in a pure white wedding gown, looking like a ridiculous clown. Someone eventually noticed me and nudged the person beside them. The noise of the crowd died down little by little, alerting Marcus. So, he turned in the direction they were looking. When he saw me, the smile on his face froze. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, and he instinctively released Jane from his arms. "E-Evie? What are you doing here?" Marcus hurried toward me. When he saw what I was wearing, his brows drew together slightly. He seemed confused by my appearance, even a little embarrassed. "Why did you come here dressed like this? You should've told me beforehand." I didn't say a word. I simply lifted my chin and stared at Marcus, my eyes fixed on the faint trace of lipstick still staining the corner of his lips. Chapter 2 The Girl Behind Him Jane hurried over as well. She timidly stayed behind Marcus and tugged at his sleeve. "Yvette, please don't misunderstand. Marcus and the others are graduating tomorrow, so our club decided to have dinner and play Truth or Dare. "I lost, and my punishment was to kiss one of the guys who was there. Marcus only helped me because he was trying to get me out of it. He was reluctant to do it, too." Reluctant? I looked at the candle arrangement on the ground, and then at the roses everyone around us was holding. I almost laughed right then and there. "What kind of dare just happened to require a whole bunch of candles arranged all over the ground?" Marcus' expression darkened. He hated it when I got confrontational like this. "Yvette, can you stop making a big deal out of everything? I already told you it was just a game. The candles were left over from another guy's confession. We only borrowed them for the game. Do you really have to make a scene in front of everyone and ruin the mood for all of us?" I tightened my grip on the little metal box. Its sharp edge dug painfully into my palm, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. I'd accidentally broken Marcus' favorite model four years ago. He didn't get upset. Instead, he'd immediately grabbed my hand, anxiously checking to see whether any shards of glass had cut me. "A model can always be replaced," he said then. "But if anything ever happens to you, Evie, I'd be heartbroken." Yet, here I was, standing in front of him in a wedding dress, having traveled over 600 miles just to see him. And what did I get? I got a face full of him kissing another girl. Even worse, he blamed me for being unreasonable instead of offering me a single explanation or showing the slightest concern for how I felt. I let out a bitter laugh and tossed the metal box into the trash can beside me. "Sorry for intruding. You guys continue." I turned to leave, but Marcus grabbed me by the wrist. "Yvette Solano, what are you throwing a tantrum about now?" Then, he noticed the metal box inside the trash can. He froze for a moment, and his tone softened. "All right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken part in a game like that. I should've known better. You must be exhausted after coming all this way. Let's get something to eat first, okay?" As he spoke, he casually took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. Every one of his actions screamed that he wanted to cover up my wedding dress. Marcus put an arm around me and led me forward a couple of steps before suddenly stopping. He turned around and looked at Jane with reluctance. "Jane, you should head back and get some rest." However, Jane had already followed us over as if it was a given. Then, she pouted and whined without a hint of shame the second she heard Marcus' words. "No. I'm hungry too. Marcus, you're playing favorites. I want something good to eat, too!" Marcus didn't say anything. He simply lifted his chin slightly in my direction. Jane followed his gaze and glanced at me before immediately pouting. "In that case, you owe me a meal. You have to make it up to me next time, okay?" Marcus sighed helplessly and eventually gave in. "Alright, fine. You go back now." As I watched the two of them exchange those effortless, familiar words, I suddenly found it all meaningless and laughable. After all, seeing them together made it seem as though I were the outsider instead. Chapter 3 The Attentive Boyfriend Marcus took me to the casual open-air restaurant near the university that we often visited. When the owner saw me, he froze for a second before greeting me familiarly. "Well, if it isn't Yvette! I haven't seen you in ages." Then, he turned to Marcus with a grin. "Just yourself today, Marcus? Didn't Jane tell me yesterday to save her a sea bass? I specifically kept it aside for her. Why isn't she here?" Marcus gave him an awkward smile. Before he could explain, a commotion came from the entrance. Jane and several other members of their club had followed us there. "Marcus, can we join you? All the other restaurants are full." Jane looked at me cautiously, wearing such a pitiful expression that it was as though she were terrified I'd get angry. Marcus looked around. There really weren't any other seats available, so he pulled out the chair beside him. "Sure. The more, the merrier." Then, he picked up the menu and began ordering with practiced ease. "One spicy crawfish boil and one cilantro-lime grilled fish." Jane raised her hand. "Extra spicy!" Marcus smiled and naturally added, "Yeah, extra spicy. Oh, and no cilantro. Jane's allergic to cilantro." I sat beside Marcus and watched him, saying nothing. When he met my eyes, he smiled and reached over to pat my head. "Evie, I ordered all your favorites. Didn't you say this place had the best crawfish?" I didn't answer. I simply lowered my eyes and took a sip of water. He had forgotten that I suffered from severe stomach ulcers. I'd undergone a minor procedure just six months ago, and the doctor had repeatedly warned me not to eat anything spicy. He'd also forgotten that cilantro was my favorite. He'd always asked for extra cilantro for me back when it was just us. But now, all he could remember were Jane's dietary restrictions. When the food arrived, Marcus slipped on disposable gloves and instinctively began peeling the crawfish. In the past, the first one he'd peeled had always gone straight to my lips. But this time, he placed the meat on the small plate in front of Jane instead. "Here. Eat up. Weren't you dying for the crawfish here? You were even complaining that you'd hurt your nails by peeling them yourself." Jane's cheeks turned pink as she accepted it with a sweet smile. "Thank you, Marcus!" The atmosphere at the table froze for a moment. Even the other students sitting nearby could tell that something was wrong. Someone awkwardly cleared his throat twice before Marcus finally realized what he'd done and turned to look at me. A flicker of remorse crossed his eyes. So, he quickly peeled another crawfish and placed it on my plate. "Evie, you eat, too. Jane cut her hand during an experiment a few days ago, so I have to take care of her a little. Don't overthink it." I stared at the lone piece of crawfish sitting in my bowl and suddenly felt sick to my stomach. "I'm not hungry." I put down my cutlery and stood up. "I'm going to freshen up." As I stood in front of the restroom mirror, I stared at myself in the wedding dress. Then, I eventually pulled out my phone and ordered the most ordinary set of everyday clothes I could find. When I returned to the table, everyone was chatting, and Jane was holding a glass of room-temperature fruit juice, pouting like a child. "Marcus, I want an ice-cold Coke." Marcus' expression immediately turned stern. He tapped the rim of her glass with a serious look. "No. You're on your period these days. You can't have anything cold. If you end up in too much pain to do your experiment, I'm not helping you." Then, he turned to me and handed me a can of chilled Coke. "Here, Evie, this one's yours. I specifically asked the owner to get it from the back of the refrigerator." I took the can. Cold condensation trickled between my fingers and seeped into the sleeve of my wedding dress, and the chill reached all the way into my heart. I didn't touch my cutlery again for the rest of the meal. Meanwhile, Marcus never paid any mind to me after that. He continued chatting with the other club members, occasionally taking drinks meant for Jane, and picking the bones out of her fish for her. He looked every inch the attentive, considerate boyfriend… just not for his girlfriend. Chapter 4 Five Hundred Tickets, and No Future Marcus first took Jane back to her dorm after dinner. Only then did he drive me to the apartment he had recently rented. It was the place we had planned long ago to move into together after graduation. "Evie, it's close to my company, and the magazine you want to work for is only two subway stops away. Once we graduate, we'll decorate the place properly." Marcus held my hand as we stood outside the door, his eyes shining with anticipation for the future. He looked so sincere, so completely sincere that for one stupid moment, I almost thought everything that had happened earlier had been nothing more than an illusion. "You were the one who entered the password last time, remember?" I stepped forward and entered my birthday. Incorrect password. I froze for a moment, thinking I must have remembered wrong. Then, I entered the anniversary of the day we got together. Still incorrect. Marcus' expression stiffened for an instant, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes. "I must have remembered it wrong… Let me open it." He reached for the keypad, but I pushed his hand away. I suddenly remembered a photo Marcus had posted on his social media a few days ago. It was a picture of a delicate little cake, captioned, 'Happy 20th birthday to the kiddo.' That day had been June 17. My fingers trembled as I entered 0617. Sure enough,' the door unlocked with a beep. I stared at the narrow gap as the door swung open, feeling as though all the blood in my body had frozen. Marcus had no idea how I had guessed the password. Panic was written all over his face as he hurriedly caught my hand. "Evie, listen to me. I couldn't manage everything on my own when I moved here last month. Jane happened to be free, so she came over to help. The keypad lock broke at the time. "My hands were dirty when it was fixed, so I asked her to set the password for me. She was fooling around and insisted on using her own birthday. I was so exhausted that I didn't think much of it. "I've been busy with my internship ever since, so I completely forgot to change it back." Marcus spoke with such confidence, even managing to sound innocent and wronged. I looked inside the apartment. Everything had been decorated exactly according to my taste: the cream-colored sofa, the natural wood coffee table, and even the little swing on the balcony that I had told him so many times I wanted. Yet, the front-door password was linked to another girl. I shook off his hand and asked coldly, "Marcus. A girl came into her senior's future marital home and set her own birthday as the password. Do you really think that's just fooling around?" Marcus frowned deeply as his tone became sharp and impatient. "Yvette, when are you going to stop? I've explained this to you so many times. I only see Jane as a sister. She's only 20, and it's tough for her out here on her own. Should I not look out for her? "I spend every day studying and working myself to the bone for our future. Yet, here you are, putting on wedding dresses and running around doing whatever you want. Don't you think you're being selfish?" Selfish? Me? I had been eating buttered noodles every day just to save enough money for train tickets to come see him. I had stayed up through several nights to finish my assignments so I could squeeze out enough time to visit him on the weekend. Yet in the end, I was the selfish one. Suddenly, I no longer had the strength to argue. I walked into the bathroom and looked at the matching toothbrushes arranged neatly beside the sink, one pink and one blue. A few days ago, Marcus had even deliberately taken a picture and sent it to me. 'Evie, look. Everything's ready. We're just waiting for you to come over and move in.' But the photo had failed to capture the bottle of makeup remover. It was a brand I'd never used in my life, and it was sitting beside them. Marcus followed my gaze, and his face instantly went pale. "Um… Jane left that behind when she came over to help with the big cleanup last time…" I was done listening to another one of his excuses, so I picked up the makeup remover and casually tossed it into the trash can beside me. "Disgusting," I said quietly, but I wasn't sure if I was referring to the makeup remover or something else entirely. That night, I simply sat on the sofa like that the entire night instead of taking off my wedding dress. In the beginning, Marcus kept trying to placate me in a soft, apologetic voice. But after a long time without receiving even the slightest response, he went into the bedroom and slammed the door shut, apparently intending to protest with his trump card—the silent treatment. I touched the rusted pull tab around my ring finger. It was the same one Marcus had given me the first time he proposed. Back then, he had been secretly fiddling with something beneath the desk behind my back while we were still in class. He refused to confess what he was doing even when the teacher called him out on it and made him stand at the front with a flushed face for half the class. It wasn't until graduation day that he finally took it out and solemnly slipped it onto my ring finger. "I'm locking you down early, so you can't run away," he had said at the time. Fellow students watching nearby started cheering and teasing us, but Marcus' expression was utterly serious. "Evie, wait for me. Once I graduate and find a good job, I'll definitely give you a real diamond ring." I had never taken the ring off even once for the past four years. The pull tab had left a dark mark around my finger that couldn't be washed away, just like the scar Marcus had left in my heart. Without me realizing it, it had already festered. Alas, it seemed that I might never get that real diamond ring after all. And… I would never be able to redeem those 500 train tickets again. Chapter 5 The Things He Forgot The bedroom door swung open the next morning, and Marcus stepped out fully dressed. When he saw that I was still sitting on the sofa, he froze for a moment before a flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. He walked over and habitually reached out to pat my head. "Evie, are you still mad?" I turned my head away, avoiding his hand. Marcus' hand remained suspended in midair. He sighed before softening his tone. "I was out of line yesterday. I've been so busy preparing for my thesis defense these past few days, and I was just exhausted. "It's my graduation today. You can stay home and rest if you don't feel like going. Wait for me, alright? I ordered delivery from your favorite place—the one with the loaded baked potato soup." The doorbell rang the next second. Marcus went to answer the door, assuming that the soup he ordered had arrived, only to be greeted by a deliveryman holding a garment bag instead. "Sorry, you are…" I walked straight over and took it from the deliveryman. Marcus glanced at the bag, and then at the wedding dress I was still wearing, which was still stained and dirty. He gave me a helpless smile. "Next time, don't wear something so complicated. Something ordinary is best." He didn't know that the "complicated outfit" he was talking about was a wedding dress I had deliberately saved up for by cutting back on food because I had been planning to say yes when he proposed. Now, I didn't want to tell him. I simply lowered my head and began undoing the elaborate lacing at the back of the dress. My fingers were stiff after sitting still all night. The rusted pull tab around my ring finger accidentally caught on the lace. I tugged at it harshly, causing the pull-tab ring I had worn for four years to break with a crisp snap. The sharp edge of the aluminum sliced into my finger, and blood immediately welled from the wound, dripping onto my wedding dress. "Ouch…" I gasped in pain. Marcus immediately turned around upon hearing me yelp. When he saw the blood on my hand, he frowned and hurried over, taking hold of my wrist. "How could you be so careless?" I watched the beads of blood steadily welling from my fingertip, and was suddenly reminded of my sophomore year. I had accidentally gotten a tiny cut from a sheet of A4 paper, so shallow it hadn't even drawn visible blood. Marcus had panicked as though I had suffered a serious injury. He had run to every pharmacy outside campus even though it was in the middle of the night, buying a pile of bandages and a bottle of iodine. From then on, he had always kept several bandages in his wallet. "Do you have a bandage?" I asked softly. Marcus instinctively reached for his wallet, but his hand stopped halfway. "I used them all. Jane scraped her ankle a couple of days ago, so I gave them to her. Just press a tissue against it for now." My heart went completely cold right then, so much so that I could no longer feel the pain in my finger. Just then, Marcus' phone rang. The cheerful ringtone could only mean that it was set specifically. Marcus glanced at me before deliberately slipping out onto the balcony to answer the call. "What's wrong, Jane?" "Marcus, my thesis got rejected again." Jane's voice on the other end was choked with tears. "My advisor said I have to revise it by this morning… But my computer crashed. Where are you? Can you come over…" Marcus immediately straightened and glanced at his watch. "Don't cry. I'm coming over right now. Bring your USB drive and wait for me on the first floor of the library." Once he hung up, he hurriedly blurted, "Evie, Jane needs my help. It could affect whether she graduates, so I have to go. Once I'm done with the graduation ceremony this afternoon, I'll take you out for a nice dinner tonight to make it up to you." He didn't look again at my bleeding hand. He simply hurried out and slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the silent apartment. I walked to the dining table and opened the food he had ordered. My eyes fell on the bunch of chives floating on top of the loaded baked potato soup. That was when I knew that he'd forgotten I hated chives as well. I threw the untouched pot of soup into the trash, pulled out a sheet of tissue, and casually wrapped it around my finger. The broken pull-tab ring lay quietly on the floor. I looked at it for a moment before decisively throwing it into the trash, too.