Gathering her belongings quickly, she made her way to the doors. Just before stepping off, she glanced back and saw the man still watching her. The discomfort in her chest deepened. Hoping for a calmer ride, she planned to catch the next train instead.
Minutes later, her phone rang. It was her husband, Mark, and his voice was filled with concern. “Were you just on the train?” he asked, urgency in his tone. “Yes,” Claire answered, puzzled. “Why?”
Mark, almost frantic, said, “Go back to the station—right now! You need to go back!”
Confused and alarmed, Claire asked, “What’s going on? Why should I return?”
There was a pause. Then, in a softer voice, Mark said, “You’re okay now—but someone was watching you. Someone who’s been following you. Someone familiar.”
Claire’s thoughts raced as she realized the man from the train wasn’t a stranger after all. But how did Mark know? How could he sense something was wrong, even from far away?
In that instant, she realized that love wasn’t just about physical presence.
It was a bond that could stretch across distance and time. Somehow, Mark had felt her fear and knew she needed him.
With his words easing her worry, Claire made her way back to the station, comforted by the knowledge that she was never truly alone—because someone who loved her was always there, watching over her from afar.
