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

But before I could slide in, he stopped me with a glance and a shrug.

“This isn’t for you.

Mom’s sitting up front.”

Then he turned to his mother, all smiles. “Come on, Mom. You deserve the front seat.

You’re the number one woman in my life.”

Stephanie sank comfortably into the seat and gave me a smug smile through the rearview mirror, like she’d just won a prize.

I climbed into the back.

That was the moment I understood with brutal clarity: I wasn’t Harry’s partner. I was an afterthought.

And I’d had enough.

I didn’t cry that night. I was done doing it.

I devised a plan instead.

The following week, I enrolled in driving school without telling a soul.

I told Harry I was working late on a project. Twice a week, I’d stay at the office until everyone left, then walk three blocks to where my driving instructor waited.

His name was Miguel, and he was patient in a way Harry had never been. He didn’t sigh when I stalled at a stop sign.

He didn’t make me feel stupid for asking questions.

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