The rain is battering the skylight, and Bess sits close to the radiator, chilled to the bone.

Her eyes are glued to her computer, watching the little dot that was Mike moving away from her as she wept.

“I’m done,” he’d said. “I’m leaving.”

But she couldn’t let him go in weather like this. The rain would turn to ice at any moment. She had to go after him.

Bess sped as fast as she could to reach him, but the dark, icy rain was blinding and her tires were starting to slip.

They never found each other.

Or Bess.

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_{Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash}