My Husband Said His Mom Deserved the Front Seat More than Me – I Taught Him a Lesson

I adjusted the mirrors. Checked my seatbelt. Put the car in reverse. My heart was pounding, but my hands were steady.

They walked toward the garage together, already chattering about what it might be.

Inside the white box were divorce papers. Signed. Filed. Ready.

I didn’t wait to see their faces when they opened it. I didn’t need to.

I backed out of the driveway and drove away.

For the first time in my marriage, I was in the front seat. Alone. And it felt like breathing after being underwater for too long.

Inside the white box were divorce papers.

My phone started buzzing immediately. Calls from Harry. Texts from Stephanie.

“Where are you going?”

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