I rub my tired eyes. Another grueling day has seamlessly slipped into evening, and now it’s inching toward night. Yet here I am, still holed up in my office, trying to wrap up what I started.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes insistently. I’ve completely lost track of time.
“Alex, are you planning to come home anytime soon? I can’t sleep knowing you’re not here!” my grandmother’s voice crackles through the receiver, laced with frustration. “Your grandpa’s already snoring, and I’m pacing around, worried sick.”
“Gran, I’m working!” I reassure her. “But I’ll be home soon. Go to bed without me.”
“And when are you going to make us happy with some great-grandkids?” she starts in on her familiar tune. “We’ll pass on without seeing you settled down with a nice girl. What a waste!”
Honestly, sometimes I feel like a stray cat they’re desperate to rehome into “good hands.” I can’t help but crack a smile at the thought.
“Gran, we’ve been over this a hundred times,” I say, trying to keep my tone patient.
In front of me, my laptop screen glows with endless numbers. I need to finalize this contract and send it off to the finance team.
“And you just let it roll off your back like water off a duck. Is it really so hard to bring a nice girl home? Not some floozy, mind you, but a proper young lady. Someone like Katie, who you wouldn’t even have dinner with…”
Here we go again. Katie was the granddaughter of one of Gran’s old friends, and not the first attempt at matchmaking from my family.
Gran and Grandpa are all I have left. And I’m all they’ve got. My parents died in a car accident when I was young, so my mom’s parents raised me.
I can’t just brush them off or snap at them. But I also can’t stand the constant pressure to get married. I’m at my wit’s end. I haven’t found the right girl for the job. And even when I’ve brought someone home who seemed like a decent candidate for a fiancée, Gran quickly found fault with her. They’re always lacking some virtue or another. Gran dreams of seeing me married, but she’s impossibly picky. Katie somehow passed her test, but Alina, a girl I brought home myself, didn’t make the cut. Truth be told, I wasn’t exactly eager to tie the knot with Alina either. I only introduced her to buy myself some peace for a while. We parted ways quickly and painlessly—Alina couldn’t get away from my grandmother fast enough.
Good grief, what a mess.
“Gran, I’ve got a girlfriend,” I blurt out, desperate to cut off her endless praise of Katie’s virtues.
I figure if I say this, she might back off—or at least stop pushing Katie on me.
“You do?” Gran’s voice lights up with excitement. “Then why haven’t you brought her home?”
“Uh… she’s not ready to meet you yet.”
“You’ll bring her over soon. I need to live long enough to see you married, Alex! I’m not getting any younger!”
“Yeah, Gran,” I mumble, still distracted. I hang up and go back to tapping away at my laptop.
Finally, I’m done. Time to head home.
Gran’s probably calmed down now, plotting some kind of test for this imaginary girlfriend of mine. As for where I’m supposed to find a real fiancée who can withstand my grandmother’s iron will without bolting on day two, well, I’ll figure that out tomorrow.
I drive home, half-asleep. Our house is out in the suburbs—an upscale area with fresh air that’s good for retirees. Of course, it’s a two-hour trek from downtown.
I’m nodding off at the wheel. I should probably stop for a coffee. It wouldn’t take much to fall asleep right here.
So I do. I pull into a supermarket parking lot. It’s well past midnight, so the place is deserted. The only light comes from a glowing coffee vending machine.
And there, sitting on the curb near it, is the lone figure of a young woman.
“Are you okay?” I ask politely.
She lifts her face to me, tear-streaked. I catch a glimpse of the trails on her cheeks before she shakes her head and buries it in her hands again.
“Can I get you a coffee?” I offer, glancing her over. She’s dressed decently, not like someone down on their luck.
She doesn’t respond. So I buy two coffees and hand her a cup.
I really should get going. Gran’s waiting, and I’m exhausted. But my conscience won’t let me leave a lone woman in distress. What if some creep bothers her? She looks so small and vulnerable, like an abandoned kitten.
“What are you doing out here so late?”
She lets out a heavy sigh and finally speaks.
“My husband left me…”
“Had a fight?” I guess. “You might still work things out.”
“He got another woman pregnant. There’s no working it out.”
“Can I give you a ride home?” I ask.
Do I need this? Probably not. But Gran would give me an earful if I acted like a jerk and left this poor woman to fend for herself in a supermarket parking lot. Sure, I’m no superhero, and I’m not obligated to solve other people’s problems. But… I look at her again.
She sips her coffee thoughtfully, then nods.
“Please. Take me home.”