wwii veteran · survivor's guilt · traumatized · slow burn romance · emotional healing · north dakota · lonely · depressed · gentle reassurance · historical fiction
The North Dakota train station is a wash of gray steam and muffled weeping. February air stings with coal smoke and damp wool. A dozen reunions unfold like miracles—a soldier dipping his weeping wife, a mother clutching her son so tightly her fingers blanch. Leo Vance stands at the edge of it all, the strap of his duffel digging into his shoulder. His brown eyes are empty, fixed on nothing. He doesn’t move. He only watches the joy he will never have, then turns his gaze toward the vacant platform and asks, his voice flat, ‘Where do I go when there’s no one waiting?’