He’d been home for barely ten days before flying out again, this time to Singapore and Indonesia, and Tessa didn’t expect him back for at least another week. The assignments that had initially lasted two to three weeks in duration had gradually lengthened into four to five weeks. And when he was gone he didn’t email her as often as before, so that sometimes almost an entire week would go by without any word from him.

But when he did eventually get in touch with her, he always sounded so excited about the places he’d seen and the people he’d met that Tessa hadn’t had the heart to complain about his lack of communication. He had warned her after all, she’d reminded herself sternly, about what it would be like, had given her the choice more than once about following him to San Francisco. So she kept her feelings to herself, and continued to offer Peter support and encouragement rather than whine like a spoiled child about being neglected.

She was practically soaked to the skin within a minute of exiting the building, her long hair clinging to her face and neck in wet, heavy strands. She shivered as the wind whipped through her raincoat, a lightweight beige garment that she’d bought at a thrift store after moving to San Francisco. It did precious little to keep her either warm or dry, but after a recent rent hike their budget really didn’t allow for her to buy anything nicer.

As she hurried to the bus stop, hoping that the bus would actually arrive on time tonight, she accidentally stepped into a puddle. Tessa truly felt like crying at that point, with a soaked shoe and stocking, and couldn’t remember a time in recent years when she had felt quite so miserable. She was wet and cold and exhausted after a particularly stressful day at work, and knowing that she’d be returning home to a lonely apartment only made matters worse.

Maybe Peter was right, she thought despondently. Maybe she should finally accept that their marriage was something of a joke, and that the only reason she hadn’t allowed him to pursue a divorce was because of her fears about being alone. A divorce would certainly mean that she’d be truly alone, but it would also present her with the opportunity to find someone else – someone who wouldn’t be on the other side of the world four weeks out of every six; someone who’d be a real partner to her, who could satisfy her sexually and eventually get her pregnant, giving her the child and family she’d always longed for.

But not just yet, she told herself. She wasn’t ready for that right now. She needed more time to prepare herself emotionally, to build up enough confidence to be on her own, take care of herself, make decisions. She’d made good progress, she realized, was coping reasonably well during Peter’s lengthy absences. It had been several months since she’d slumped into depression, and she had worked very hard to keep herself busy and remain positive. But if she was being completely honest with herself, Tessa admitted, there was still a lot more she had to do before she could feel confident about being on her own.

The bus was more than ten minutes late, and by that time she felt like a drowned rat, so cold and wet that she feared she’d never get warm again. As she waited to board the bus along with a couple of dozen other equally wet, tired riders, Tessa half-jokingly looked around for that nonexistent knight in shining armor to ride up on his white steed and rescue her. Or, in this particular case, drive up in his warm, comfy car and offer her a ride home.

She shook her head in disgust as it was her turn to board the jam-packed bus, wondering why she still bothered to believe in silly fairy tales. There were no knights, no princes, and nobody was ever going to come and rescue this particular damsel in distress, not even Peter. It was time, she realized wearily, to start saving herself.

“Good Lord, it’s rotten weather out there tonight, mate,” declared Ian as he slid gratefully inside the warm, dry interior of the Town Car.

From the front seat Simon nodded in agreement. “That it is, Mr. Gregson. An ideal night to sit in front of a roaring fire with a good book and a glass of Scotch.”

Ian grinned. “A man after my own heart, Simon. And not a bad idea. In fact, I’ll likely follow your advice as soon as I get home.”

It had been a long, particularly stressful day at the office, and he was grateful he’d had the foresight to hit the gym early this morning. Even someone as disciplined about his workouts as Ian would have been hard pressed to find the motivation to exercise right now, given the rather hellish day it had been.

At least, he thought grimly, he didn’t have to stand out in the pouring rain and howling wind like the couple of dozen people he saw gathered at the bus stop on the corner. He felt more than a little guilty that he was comfortably ensconced inside the Town Car, and that he didn’t even have to worry about driving home in rush hour traffic. Simon, fortunately, was probably the calmest, most competent driver Ian had ever met, and never seemed to mind driving in such conditions. He knew that his quiet, capable chauffeur had spent more than three decades serving in the British Army, and that for at least part of that time had driven tanks and other armored vehicles. Ian supposed that maneuvering a luxury automobile through San Francisco’s congested downtown streets was child’s play in comparison.

The car was stopped at a red light as he continued to gaze outside, watching as the heavy rain lashed the window noisily. As he glanced sympathetically at the sodden crowd waiting for their bus to arrive, he gave a start as he realized that one of the poor bedraggled souls was Tessa. A soaking wet, shivering, and visibly miserable Tessa.

He was instantly filled with fury that she could find herself in such a state, that her husband allowed her to travel home on public transportation in such appalling weather conditions. She should be taking a taxi home, or a ride service like Lyft or Uber, and not getting soaked to the skin waiting for an overcrowded bus. Angrily, he guessed that Tessa wouldn’t want to spend the money on a taxi or private car, and that her husband didn’t earn enough money to take proper care of a treasure like her.

His hand was on the door handle, ready to open it and call out to Tessa to run over and get inside the car, when two things happened almost simultaneously. The first was the sighting of Gina and Alicia as they emerged from the building and hurried over to get into a car that was waiting for them at the sidewalk. Both girls were wearing expensive looking raingear, unlike Tessa whose thin coat provided no protection whatsoever.

Ian hesitated briefly, knowing that if he were to beckon Tessa over now that the two other girls would be sure to notice. While he was struggling with this particular dilemma, the bus pulled up to the curb and the waiting crowd – including Tessa – began to pile inside what was already a jammed packed vehicle.