She wiped away a tear that had begun to roll down her cheek.

“I’ll kill him,” I said.

“Stratton, please, no.”

I took a deep breath. “So this was what, two and a half hours ago?”

She nodded. I leaned forward, closed my eyes, pinched the bridge of my nose. I had feared it would come to this from the second I learned of her living situation, feared having no choice but to do the thing it was far too early to do. I looked at her, seeing the sadness in her eyes, the confusion and uncertainty.

“I’m really sorry,” she said.

“Carolyn, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault,” I said.

She nodded, looked down at the table. I reached over, lifted her hand, and kissed the back of it.

“How much stuff do you have there?”

She shrugged. “Clothes, a television, the bed is mine. Everything else is things he brought or bought once we got here. I have a cat.”

“A cat,” I said and smiled. I took a deep breath. “Do you think two people can manage it without renting a car or truck?”

“I think so. Why?”

“When is he supposed to work next?”

She thought about it a moment. “Tomorrow morning until, like, three.”

“Well, this is what we’ll do,” I said, reluctant to say the words. But I knew I had to. I couldn’t stand the hurt in her eyes. But that wasn’t all. After the few days we had spent together I couldn’t bear the idea of losing her. If I allowed her to leave now and move back to Iowa, then I’d be haunted by the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens. Sometimes that’s what life comes down to, minimizing future regret. “I’ll take the day off. We’ll go over together and gather your things and bring them to my place.”

She looked uncertainly at me, as though she was about to say no. I spoke before she had the opportunity to.

“It doesn’t have to be permanent,” I said. “We’ll see how it goes. But it’s obvious we have to get you out of there.”

“Stratton, are you sure?” she asked, and her words had the calculated tone of an argument rehearsed for hours. Certainly she had pondered the option herself. And sure, maybe she was just as reluctant as I, but what choice did we have? Sometimes the world makes decisions for us. Sometimes people enter our lives neatly, without notice, in the same unexpected way we sometimes lose the very people who seemed as though they’d be with us forever.

“Of course I’m sure,” I said.

“Don’t feel like you have to do this.”

“I don’t, Carolyn. But I’ve enjoyed being with you over the last few days. I’m thinking it might not be so bad having you around a little more,” I said.