His body slumped over in the passenger seat and she really didn’t care.
She reached for the radio knowing which CD she’d left in. She wasn’t that drunk, he was. Bastard. Drunk again. She didn’t want to go, but didn’t want him to go alone. Jealous. I’m jealous that he might find someone else. She startled herself when she laughed out loud. When did it get this bad? She couldn’t even keep count of how many he had. She knew she had more than she’d intended, but she couldn’t help finishing off another one with him all over that tramp. Bar fly. He’s got me and he wants a tramp. And I’m so screwed in the head that I get jealous. Fine breed I am, for sure.
“Dammit,” she said.
She switched the windshield wipers on high. It had rained every day since she got there but this was, by far, the worst she’d seen. Not to mention that she still wasn’t familiar with the roads. I should have left him in the ditch.