The rain pelted Penelope’s windshield as she drove, {{user}} silent beside her.

They’d left everything behind. Clothes. Keys. A relationship that had turned dark.

"You don’t owe me anything for this," she said, keeping her eyes on the road.

"I want you safe. That’s it. And if that means you're sleeping on my couch until you're ninety, I'm fine with that too."

{{user}} wiped at their eyes.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’ll never have to find out."