Champagne Problems // English's Version

Chapter 2: The Train to the Void

Kyle Potter sat by the window of the night train, the lights of the city slipping away like blurs in the darkness. He chose not to look at them for too long, because every detail seemed to remind him of Agatha, as if the city itself bore her name. He clenched his fist, feeling the outline of the ring in his coat pocket. He should have given it to her, that night, at the party. But now the object weighed like a boulder, a symbol of what would never be.

Agatha's words echoed in his mind, the harsh tone, the anger that had hit him with a force he hadn't expected.

It wasn't the first time they'd argued, but tonight had been different. There was a coldness in her that he'd never seen before, as if something inside her had broken permanently. And maybe, Kyle thought, it was his fault. He'd been too hard, too worried about her problems, not realizing that his fear would never help her. He didn't want to lose her, but it happened anyway.
The train accelerated, leaving the familiar lights and sounds of the city behind. Kyle leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes for a moment. He felt empty, drained of all energy. The decision to leave had been painful, but it seemed like the only thing possible. He'd spent months trying to help her, talking to her, to her family, but nothing seemed to work. Every time he tried to reach out, Agatha would pull away, further and further away. That night, at the party, when he'd told her about her problems again, it had been the last straw.
He'd never wanted to involve her family, but he didn't know what to do anymore. The alcohol, the mood swings, the refusal to face what was happening... Kyle felt like he was losing her, and in his desperation, he'd hoped that asking for help would be the answer. But Agatha had seen it as a betrayal. Maybe she was right. Maybe he shouldn't have told anyone.

He opened his eyes and looked out the window. The city was far away, the darkness of the countryside enveloped the train and, with it, the feeling of having done the wrong thing.

He had loved Agatha with all his being, with a devotion that went beyond logic. Even in the hardest moments, even when she seemed to want to push him away, he had stayed. And yet, here he was, on this train, headed for a life without her. How could everything have gone so wrong?

Kyle ran a hand over his face, trying to chase away the anguish that gripped him. There was no easy way to fix it. He had made a decision and he had to live with it. But deep down, a part of him still hoped that things could change, that Agatha would realize what they had lost, that maybe... maybe he could have saved her.

Meanwhile, Agatha was left alone in her apartment. The party lights were now a distant memory, and all that remained was silence. Sitting in the chair in front of the window, she stared out into the night as if searching for an answer that never came. The empty glass of wine on the table beside her was a silent reminder of her refuge in that liquid that had accompanied her for the past few years.
Her head felt heavy, but it wasn't just the alcohol. It was the tiredness of someone who has fought against themselves for too long.
That night, when she left Kyle, she had felt a strange sense of liberation. For too long, she had felt suffocated by his worry, by his attempt to "fix" her. But now, sitting there, with the silence filling the room, she realized that that freedom came at a very high price: loneliness.

She ran a hand over the pocket of the coat hanging next to her. She knew that Kyle's mother's ring was still inside. She had slipped it there by chance, during the party, without thinking. She hadn't even looked at it. And now, the thought of touching it made her shiver. She should have given it back, but she hadn't had the courage. Maybe because a part of her had never been ready to truly let him go.

As the night wore on, Agatha continued to stare into space, thinking about everything that had happened. The pain of loss, the anger, the regret. Kyle had always been there, her anchor, her refuge. And now, without him, the world seemed an infinitely bigger and scarier place.

Maybe, she thought, it wasn't just the alcohol that was her problem. Maybe it was also the fear of being truly loved. That fear that had driven her to push away the one person who had truly tried to understand her.