Chapter 19 — The End-of-Day Train

That Sunday, a rare day for Khanh Chi to have a complete rest, she asked her young colleague to suggest changing shifts to have more overtime hours. She planned to stay home and help her mother clean, but early in the morning, Thien An texted her asking if she wanted to go somewhere with him, "a place I think it's time we should go together, during the day, not on the train."

Khanh Chi immediately understood what he was talking about.

They arranged to meet at Van Phong station at nine o'clock in the morning, not in her familiar uniform, but in a simple white shirt, with her hair loose naturally instead of tied up like usual. Thien An, when he saw her in that strange outfit, couldn't hide his surprised look before regaining his usual composure.

"You look different," he said, with a rare hint of awkwardness.

"Different in a bad way?" Khanh Chi asked, teasing.

"No, different in the sense... much more beautiful," he replied, then blushed a little because he missed the words, making Khanh Chi laugh out loud, the atmosphere between the two became much lighter than before they started this meaningful trip.

They rented an old motorbike from an acquaintance and drove together along the dirt road parallel to the railroad tracks, heading towards Vong Pass. This was the first time Khanh Chi proactively approached the accident area during the day after many years of avoiding it - before now, every time the train passed through this section, she only dared to take a quick glance from inside the carriage, never really stopping.

The road up the pass is winding, with lush green forests on both sides, occasionally revealing views down to the valley below, where the railway curves like a strip of silver silk amid the immense green. Near the top of the pass, they stopped the car and walked a little further to get to the exact location of the accident in the past - a narrow bend, on one side is a steep cliff, on the other side is a slope that has been reinforced with concrete after the landslide, the trace of the tragedy is now only a patch of land slightly different in color from the surrounding area.

Khanh Chi stood still, looking down at the railway track below, feeling a stream of complex emotions welling up in her heart - both painful and somewhat liberated after many years of only daring to look from afar. Thien An stood next to her, silently, letting her have her own space for her emotions.

“This is the first time I'm actually standing here,” she said, her voice quiet. "For twelve years, I kept avoiding it, afraid that if I got close, I wouldn't be able to stand it."

"How do you feel now?" Thien An asked, her voice gentle.

Khanh Chi was silent for a moment, letting her emotions calm down before answering. "I think... I feel more relieved than I thought. Maybe because I no longer have to face it alone." She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with sincere gratitude. "Thank you, for bringing me here."

They sat down on a large rock nearby, looking out at the vast mountain and forest scene stretching before their eyes. The wind on the pass blows coolly, carrying the smell of damp earth and weeds. In that peaceful moment, away from the train whistle, away from the familiar work rhythm, Khanh Chi felt like she could be herself to the fullest, not the always busy train captain Tong Khanh Chi, but simply a woman sitting next to the person she had feelings for.

"Do you know," she said after a moment of silence, "this is also the first time in twelve years that I have looked at this railway not from inside a train car, but from the outside, looking down from above. It looks so small, so fragile, yet all these years it still carries so many stories, so many people."

"Perhaps because it is so small and fragile, people need to respect and preserve it even more," Thien An replied, looking far away at the winding railway below. "Great, massive things often know how to survive. Small, fragile things need human love and care to not be forgotten."

Khanh Chi looked at him, thinking that this statement is not only true for the railway, but also true for many other things in life - relationships, memories, unresolved pain, all of which need a patient and loving hand to preserve.

"Miss Chi," Thien An spoke after a long silence, his voice had a rare tremor. "I want to tell you something, I've kept it in my heart for a long time."

Khanh Chi's heart beat faster, not knowing if he was about to talk about the final secret or about something else. She turned to look at him, waiting.

"From the first evening when I got on the train at the end of the day and saw her standing at the door to greet passengers, I had a strange feeling — as if I had just found something I had been looking for a long time but didn't know what to call it," he said, his voice slow but steady. "The closer I get to you, the more I listen to you talk about your father, about your love for this route, the more I realize that feeling is not simply sympathy between two people who share the same pain. I fell in love with you, Khanh Chi, I don't know when, I only know that now, every evening I don't get to see you on the train, I feel like something very big is missing."

Khanh Chi held her breath, feeling like her heart was about to burst. She had sensed this feeling for a long time, through every small gesture, every look he gave her, but hearing him say it out loud, so clearly, so sincerely, still made her so emotional that she was speechless.

"Me too," she replied, her voice trembling but without hesitation. "I don't know exactly when, but I know, every sunset we watched together in the connecting compartment between the two cars, every time you helped me calm the passengers, every conversation we had together - all of it made me look forward to my shift every day more than ever. I love you, Thien An."

Thien An looked at her, his eyes filled with both happiness and emotion that could not be expressed in words. He gently touched her cheek, a gentle gesture as if he was cherishing something precious, then slowly leaned down, placing a gentle, warm kiss on her lips, bringing with him all the pent-up emotions over the past weeks.

The wind on the pass is still blowing, white clouds drift lazily across the mountain top, and somewhere down in the valley, a freight train passes by, its whistle echoing in the distance as a silent blessing for this sacred moment. Khanh Chi closed her eyes, letting the feeling of happiness overwhelm her, temporarily forgetting all worries about the secret that was still hanging in the air, just fully enjoying the joy of the present, of the love that had just been publicly acknowledged by both of them after many days of waiting.

On the way down the mountain, they stopped at a small roadside stall, where an old lady sold iced tea and some rustic cakes to passersby. Thien An bought two glasses of iced tea, and Khanh Chi sat on a low plastic chair, drinking while watching the rare flow of people and vehicles passing by on the deserted pass road. That simple moment, for Khanh Chi, held a special meaning - after many years of only knowing this route through the train window, she really had the opportunity to fully feel the beauty of the land she had passed countless times.

"In the future, if the heritage train route plan is successful, perhaps this place should also have a small stop for tourists," Khanh Chi said, his eyes lighting up with the new idea. "Sitting here admiring the scenery, drinking iced tea like this, surely many people in the city will like it."

"Good idea," Thien An smiled, taking notes right away on his phone. "She is truly born to do this job, always thinking about the passengers' experience first."

They stopped by Ms. Quach Thi Tam's house, sat down to lunch with her, and listened to her tell old stories about the town of Van Phong when she was young. The old lady looked at the two of them, her sharp eyes could not hide her joy, and occasionally let out teasing words that made both of them blush. Khanh Chi felt an extraordinary warmth in that small house, as if she had found a second home, where she was welcomed with all sincerity.

There was just one thing, while sitting in that small house, Khanh Chi suddenly noticed an old photo frame hanging on the wall, stained over the years, taking a picture of a young man in a railway uniform, standing next to a boy about five or six years old. She was about to ask about the photo, but Mrs. Tam quickly changed the subject, inviting the two of them to eat more dessert, and in the overwhelming happiness of that day, Khanh Chi temporarily put that question aside, not expecting that just a short time later, that small photo would become the final key to unlocking the entire truth she had been looking for all these years.