Making Sacrifices

“Jonathan, stop the car,” Amy demanded, her features resolute. “Right
now. This minute.”
His head swiveled around. “Are you insane? It’s two in the
morning,” he pointed out incredulously. His grip on the steering
wheel tightened until his knuckles were white. “I’m not going to let
you walk home from here.”
Amy inhaled deeply, mentally counting to ten. Then to twenty.
It didn’t help. Her eyes fairly burned. “I’ll call a cab from a
payphone or something. Just stop the car and let me out. I don’t
want to spend another second with you. I-I don’t understand how you
can be such–Ugh! Just take stop this car. Please.”

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