“No.” She said. She spoke softly. Without animosity, but with what seemed to him a deep and infinite sadness. “Please. Can we just go to the apartment? I couldn’t bear to go back in there now.”
He considered suggesting that they take rooms at the motel behind the roadhouse to wait out the storm. But she was in no condition to spend the night in some cheap motor lodge.
He stared at her. “You’re certain you want to risk the highway in this weather?” he asked one more time.
She nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Please. Let’s just go.” She said.
So off they went.
--------------------------
The snow came down harder. And the wind blew the thick whiteness horizontally, straight at the windshield. He drove slowly, with care.