“I brought the rain.”

To some extent, he was right. It had come in with Henry’s vehicle, followed about ten minutes later by the advent of lightning, a harsh reminder of God’s strength.

“You could have waited a few more hours,” the homeless man muttered. Another thunderclap shook the night, but I only pulled my cardigan closer around my chest. The covered bus stop provided some semblance of shelter, but the two lights creaked back and forth as they swung.

I risked a glance at Henry, and he caught my eye, a helpless expression on his face. “Look Shaera, what was I supposed to do?”

“Certainly not that,” I replied, turning to stare back out at the rain.

“Shaera,” he said, grabbing my arm. I wrestled it out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me,” I spat.

He lifted his hands upward, stepping back. “Okay.” A few moments passed, and he took a deep breath. “Shaera, I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late to be sorry,” I said. “We’re here because of your foolishness. They stole your car, for crying out loud.”

“And—”

“Not here,” I interrupted him, casting a meaningful glance towards the homeless man in the corner. He watched us wide-eyed from behind a bundle of sheets, but when he caught me looking he closed his eyes tightly.

“Don’t mind me,” he said. “I’m asleep.”

I raised an eyebrow, but he unnerved me, so I stepped a little closer to Henry. Another bolt of lightning arced across the sky, and this time I jumped despite myself. The scent of Henry’s familiar aftershave met my nose, and I shouldered away from him.

“I can’t do this,” I muttered.

“What was that?” he asked.

I repeated myself. “I’m leaving. When the bus comes, I’m leaving.”

“But I’m going with you,” he said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I want nothing more than to be alone!” I shouted. “I’ve wanted nothing more than to be alone this whole time.”

Henry glanced back at the homeless man, who did not even make a show of pretending he wasn’t watching. “Look, you’ve just gone through a difficult experience, and I—”

“And you what, Henry? Where were you?” I asked, words erupting from my lips. He stammered, not answering. “I kept calling your name—they kidnapped me, drugged me, and you were too drunk to even understand your own name.”

“I still came back for you!” he retorted, defensive.

“You are always coming back. You’re never there before anything even happens.”

“And I’m not supposed to be your watchdog. You’re a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

“I’m a black woman in a white man’s world, Henry. I’m powerless, and I needed you there, and you weren’t. So yes, I’m leaving,” I said, glaring at him. “Don’t follow me.”

He glared back for a few moments before stepping away and running his hand through his hair. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“How are you getting there?”

“I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

The bus chose that moment to make its way down the street, and the three of us watched it in the aftermath of the words just spoken.

As the bus pulled to a stop, I raced out towards it without a word. Henry shouted something, but it was lost to the wind. The driving rain pelted me, soaking immediately again the parts of me that had dried.

I paid my fees and took a seat, peering through the rain-coated glass. Henry was waving goodbye, mouthing words I could barely decipher: “I love you.”

I ignored him and turned away, but my eye caught on something behind him.

The homeless man was laughing.