Seven Years, One Umbrella Too Late

The night the hurricane made landfall, I stood outside the office for half an hour, and the rideshare app still showed ninety-nine people ahead of me in the queue.

I hesitated, then called my girlfriend.

"Could you swing by and grab me on your way?"

"The rain's insane. I really can't get a ride."

Charlene Vance was quiet for two seconds, her voice so calm it was almost cold.

"You're right on my route, but I'm not picking you up."

"If I bail you out today, then every time something goes wrong you'll expect me to be there to catch you."