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But yeah, of course he would. Because hewasa monster. The “could-not-love-thee-dear-so-much-lov’d-I-not-honour-more” breed of monster.

I waited, heart in my throat, as he reached my window. After a moment, he tapped lightly on the glass.

I tried to roll down the window but, of course, the engine was off. Beyond frazzled, I turned on the engine, rolled down the window, turned off the engine, stammered, “I-I had a blowout.”

He said without emotion, “I know. I saw. Are you okay?”

You’d think after that whole performance with the window he’d have... I don’t know. But I think it was just…the last straw. The strain of not knowing what was going to happen next. Emotional overload. I just couldn’t take one single fucking thing more. But more was coming. And would keep coming. And I just… couldn’t.

I turned away, pressed my hands against my face and took a couple of hard, shuddering breaths as I fought to get control.

Which had to look pretty suspicious from where Raleigh was standing.

After a second or two, he said in a different voice, “Caz?”

It was his late-at-night voice. Quiet and gentle. When it was just us lying together, warm and content, knowing in a few hours we would be up and moving, each of us going about our day—knowing that at day’s end we would be together again. Once upon a time when the world used to make sense.

I dug my fingers as hard as I could into my face, so hard I had to be leaving indents, and the pain helped me pull myself together. I let out a shuddering breath, turned back to him.

“Yeah. Yep.” The tightest, tersest of words.

“Is your spare—”

“I don’t know.”

“You want me to drive you home?” So gentle. So understanding.

A humiliating sound tore out of my throat. “Could you…just…not…” I begged.

There was a moment of shocked silence.

But then he said, steady and calm as ever, “Let me drive you home.”

I didn’t move. He tried the door handle. The door was still locked. I scrambled to open the door—and my seatbelt yanked me back into place. I swore, fumbled with the seatbelt clasp, and Raleigh, apparently thinking I needed help, drew off his gloves and also reached for the seatbelt buckle. Our hands groped…fingers, palms…and for an instant we held each other tight. Gripped each other with all our strength, like each of us was hanging over a cliff and our only lifeline was the other, like we would never let go.

I knew his hands so well. The texture of his skin, the shape of his fingers. How could you know someone so well and not know them at all?

We both let go. I sat back in my seat. “No. It’s okay. I already called the Auto Club.”

“No.” No doubt there. “You didn’t have time.”

I stared heavenward, howled,“Haven’t you done enough to me?”

He reared back a little. I couldn’t see his face because my eyes blurred, but I could make out his bulky outline. After a hesitation, I felt him lean in. His breath was warm against my face.

“Caz, I swear to God, I’m not g-going to hurt you. I won’t ever—I won’t even try to talk to you tonight. Let me see you safely home. That’s all. I promise.”

He had to think I was a complete lunatic by that point. I sure did. I hastily wiped my eyes, nodded. Couldn’t trust my voice.

Couldn’t even look at him as I climbed unsteadily out of the Ranger Rover.

He startled me, by taking my arm. Not in a police custody way, but cautiously, carefully, like he was trying to help a disintegrating scarecrow across a dangerous intersection.

I felt a little like a disintegrating scarecrow.

It was slippery on the hard-packed snow, no lie. Raleigh helped me into his SUV, leaning over to buckle me in as if I was too helpless to do it myself. He was saying quietly, reassuringly, “You don’t know it, but you’re in shock. That was a close call. I thought for sure you were going to lose control and flip over.”

It had happened so fast. My memories were confused. I had reacted totally on instinct and there hadn’t been time to think, let alone notice details beyond the fact that I was flying towards the trees. An unpredictable few seconds, for sure.