“You out of gas?” I asked.
He nodded.
Didn’t say a word.
I glanced toward the station. It wasn’t far, maybe two hundred yards, but the pumps outside looked dead. Probably closed.
“Hold on.”
I grabbed the small gas can I keep in the back. Walked over. The place was barely running, but they still sold fuel inside.
Took me about ten minutes.
When I came back, he hadn’t moved.
Same spot. Same posture.
I filled his tank. Wiped my hands on my jeans.
“Should be enough to get you to the next one.”
He looked at me.
Not quickly.
Not casually.
He just… looked.
Longer than normal.
“Thank you,” he said finally.
Low voice. Calm. Too calm for someone who’d been stuck on the side of the road.
He pulled out his wallet.
I shook my head.
“It’s fine.”
He didn’t argue.
