The Rain Changed Everything
1148 Words
Ralisa
The rain had become heavier by the time Linah and I reached the ground floor.
Not the gentle kind that made the city look beautiful.
This was the kind of rain that flooded roads within minutes and turned every available Bolt into a luxury.
People crowded near the entrance, each hoping the downpour would ease.
Some held briefcases over their heads before making a run for their cars.
Others stood impatiently refreshing ride-hailing apps.
“I told you,” Linah muttered, looking outside. “Look at that.”
I opened my Bolt app.
The nearest driver was twenty-three minutes away.
The fare was almost three times what I normally paid.
I stared at my screen in disbelief.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Linah leaned over my shoulder.
“Ouch.”
“I could buy groceries with this money.”
“And tomorrow you’ll complain that you’re broke.”
“I am broke.”
She laughed.
“You’ve been saying you’re saving money for almost a year now.”
“I am.”
“Then stop spending it on expensive Bolts.”
“As if I planned this weather.”
She shrugged dramatically.
“I didn’t say you invited the rain.”
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated.
Another message.
Looks like the rain is winning. I’m parked where I dropped you the first night. No pressure.
I stared at the words.
No pressure.
He always added those two words.
As if he wanted to make sure I never felt trapped into saying yes.
Linah read the message over my shoulder.
“He really says ‘no pressure’ every time?”
I nodded.
“He does.”
She looked thoughtful.
“That’s… surprisingly considerate.”
“I know.”
She sighed.
“I still don’t trust him.”
“I know.”
“But if you don’t go with him, you’ll spend half your salary getting home tonight.”
I looked outside again.
The rain showed no signs of stopping.
One by one, people were giving up and running toward waiting cars.
I closed the app.
“Fine.”
Linah smiled knowingly.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t encourage this.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I encouraged common sense.”
I hugged her briefly.
“See you Monday.”
“Text me when you get home.”
“I always do.”
“And if he suddenly turns into a serial killer—”
I laughed before she could finish.
“I’ll let you know.”
“You’d better.”
I spotted Darius’s SUV exactly where he’d said it would be.
He was leaning casually against the driver’s door, umbrella in one hand.
When he saw me walking toward him, he immediately stepped forward, holding the umbrella over my head before I could protest.
“You’ll get soaked.”
“I’ve survived rain before.”
“I’m sure you have.”
He opened the passenger door.
“After you.”
I climbed inside, shaking a few drops of water from my sleeves.
A moment later, he settled into the driver’s seat.
The rain drummed steadily against the windshield.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he smiled.
“Bad traffic?”
“Worse prices.”
“I figured.”
I fastened my seatbelt.
“I almost stayed at the office until the rain stopped.”
“You would’ve been there all night.”
“Exactly.”
He chuckled softly as he pulled out of the parking lot.
The city moved painfully slowly.
Every intersection was backed up.
Motorcycles squeezed between cars.
Pedestrians rushed through puddles with shoes in their hands.
“I don’t think we’ll reach my house before midnight,” I joked.
“I’ve had worse traffic.”
“You sound experienced.”
“I spend a lot of time driving.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
He glanced at me.
“Why?”
“You don’t complain.”
“Complaining doesn’t make traffic move.”
I laughed.
“That’s annoyingly logical.”
“I’ve been told that before.”
About twenty minutes later, the traffic came to a complete stop.
Not slow.
Stopped.
We didn’t move for several minutes.
I looked ahead.
“What happened?”
“No idea.”
People were beginning to step out of their cars to see what was causing the delay.
Darius switched off the engine.
“Looks like we’ll be here a while.”
I sighed.
“Perfect.”
He looked at me.
“Hungry?”
I blinked.
“What?”
“I asked if you’re hungry.”
“A little.”
He nodded toward a small roadside café just across the street.
It wasn’t fancy.
Just a simple place with warm lights glowing through rain-covered windows.
“We could wait in there.”
I immediately shook my head.
“No.”
He looked amused.
“No?”
“We’re not having dinner.”
“I didn’t say dinner.”
“You were thinking dinner.”
“I was thinking coffee.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“With snacks.”
“You’re adding details.”
“You were about to.”
He laughed.
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
He rested both hands on the steering wheel.
“Ralisa.”
“What?”
“If we stay here, we’ll be sitting in silence while staring at brake lights.”
I looked through the windshield.
He wasn’t wrong.
“If we go inside…”
He continued.
“…we’ll still be waiting for traffic.”
I pretended to think about it.
“Hmm.”
“The only difference is that one option includes hot tea.”
I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling.
“You argue very well.”
“I negotiate for a living.”
That caught my attention.
“You negotiate?”
He nodded.
“Part of my job.”
“What exactly is your job?”
For a split second, I thought I’d finally get a proper answer.
Instead, he smiled.
“A complicated one.”
I groaned dramatically.
“There you go again.”
“What?”
“Answering questions without answering them.”
“I answered.”
“No, you avoided.”
“I redirected.”
“That’s even worse.”
He laughed.
A real laugh.
The kind that reached his eyes.
I couldn’t remember the last time talking to a man had felt…
Easy.
Not exciting.
Not romantic.
Just…
Easy.
That realization scared me more than it should have.
Because easy had a way of becoming important.
And I had promised myself…
I would never make that mistake again.
Outside, the rain continued falling.
Inside the car, neither of us realized that this unexpected traffic jam was quietly changing something between us.
Not love.
Not yet.
But comfort.
The kind that grows so slowly…
You don’t notice it until one day it’s simply there.
- Writer
