You: an old paperback held up for me. Me: stuck on the L train

We were stuck between stations on the L train one Tuesday morning for eleven minutes and the whole carriage went silent in the way only New York can. You were holding a striped scarf and a very old paperback. I looked at the book. You looked at me and held it up so I could read the cover. We both nodded as if that settled something. The doors opened and you got off first. I have since read the book. It was good. I would like to tell you the ending.