Am I wrong for not wanting to stand by my wife?

And let me just say here that I'm not talking about the time when she got cut off in the parking lot and rolled down her window to give Mr. Big As A Mountain an earful. I wasn't very comfortable with that, seeing how he had at least an extra sixty pounds on him and he looked like a boxer and when he got out of his rig and did a shrug that resembled Do You Want Some of this Boy? I'm not talking about that.
Before I go on, let me back up to yesterday.
Inside the store we were in before the thunderstorm, we wandered around doing various things. We were getting close to finishing up when I decided to go downstairs and look for something else I had been wanting. Lois got in the elevator and pushed the button and SNAP! She was zapped by some static electricity and she screamed "OUCH." We separated briefly when we reached the other floor and I looked over to where she was standing just as she reached down to grab something to show me and SNAP, more static electricity. I watched her face grimace as she muttered something under her breath and shook her fingers. Now you have to know my wife to understand that this is a common phenomenon that plagues her. But yesterday she was definitely carrying a strong load of current around with her. I blame it on the wool sweaters she wears. When we got back in the elevator she pushed the button and SNAP. By this time I was starting to feel sorry for her.
So fast forward. I am standing by the glass doors while Lois is paying the cashier and the rain is falling in buckets. I jokingly go back to her and say that I think it's time that she takes one for the team; suggesting she make a run for the car and then swing up and grab me. And we suddenly have the same thought. I'm thinking to myself: Dude, you've got current running through you. I'm not walking out those doors standing next to you. While she is saying to herself: You're going to let me go out there alone.
So...Am I wrong for not wanting to stand by my wife?
We wheeled the cart to the door and stood there gathering the couple of sacks we had and looked outside. Lois looked at me and said, "I'll go get the car."
As nice as that sounded I couldn't let her go out there alone. I told her I was going with her. And so, like Butch Cassidy and Sundance we opened the doors and ran. My eyes watching the sky the whole time.