Then he leaned against me again.
This time, I was certain he knew what he was doing.
“Please stop leaning against me,” I said.
He rolled his eyes.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
I stared at him.
I wasn’t asking him to leave the train. I wasn’t demanding a different carriage or special treatment. I was asking a grown man to respect a simple boundary.
Yet somehow, I was the one being made to feel unreasonable.
He noticed a man across the aisle watching us and raised his voice.
“Apparently, somebody expects first-class treatment!”
The man chuckled awkwardly before returning to his phone.
Several other passengers glanced over.
My face burned with embarrassment.
I hated public arguments. I hated being the center of attention, and I hated the feeling that everyone was silently judging me without knowing what had happened.
For a moment, I almost apologized.
The words were right there.
