Chapter 1 The Passenger Seat Was Never Mine

The car stopped in front of my apartment building, and the rain still had not let up.

Chester held an umbrella over me as he walked me to the entrance. I had just leaned against the wall to catch my breath when he suddenly stopped. "You go on upstairs. I need to grab something from the car."

I turned around and watched him dash straight into the rain.

He opened the passenger door, pressed the seat memory button twice, then checked the angle of the backrest with his hand.

He even bent down to make sure the seat had slid back to the exact same position as before. Only when he was certain everything was perfectly unchanged did he close the door.

Rain soaked one side of his shoulder, but he did not seem to care.

Standing in the hallway, I felt my heart turn cold.

It was not that he was incapable of being thoughtful. That thoughtfulness had just never been meant for me.

The moment I collapsed onto the couch, my phone chimed with a notification that my car loan payment of 574 dollars had been deducted automatically.

The money had come out of my payroll account.

I had paid 70 percent of the down payment for the car. He had covered the other 30 percent.

The loan was under my credit, and the payments were linked to my bank account.

Back then, he had promised to send me the money every month. He even used to label the transfers as monthly payment for our car.

Eventually, the transfers stopped.

Sometimes, he remembered and sent me a couple dozen dollars. Most of the time, he conveniently forgot.

I had never kept score.

I always figured we were going to get married eventually. Splitting every expense so clearly felt too distant.

Looking back, I could only laugh at myself.

I was the one paying for the car. Yet the passenger seat had become someone else's reserved spot.

I opened the car's companion app on my phone.

The most frequently used destination was Linnea Quinn's yoga studio. The second was her apartment. My office came in third.

Looking through the navigation history from the past three months, more than half the trips had been detours to pick her up.

Suddenly, I remembered how often he'd said "It's on my way" over the past six months.

Picking Linnea up for class was on his way. Driving her home was on his way. Taking her to physical therapy was on his way.

However, whenever I worked late and called him to pick me up, he always gave me the same answer. "Just take a rideshare home. I'll cover the fare."

Apparently, "on his way" depended on who was waiting.

For Linnea, halfway across the city was still on his way. For me, even a mile was too far.

Chester walked in carrying a glass of warm water and my medicine. He rested a hand against my forehead and spoke gently. "You're still running a fever. Take your medicine and get some sleep."

I took the glass without saying a word.

He sighed and sat beside me. "Are you still upset about what happened in the car? Linnea's back has only recently healed. She still has to be careful. Just be a little more accommodating."

I stared at the water in my cup. "You are overthinking it."

He froze for a moment, probably surprised by how calm I sounded.

He reached over to hug me, but I leaned away.

"Once you're feeling better, I'll take you diving in Madaia. Happy?"

In the past, that would have been enough for me to let it go. Tonight, though, the offer only made me sick.

Just then, his phone rang. The screen lit up with Linnea's name. He instinctively glanced at me.

After a brief hesitation, he took the call on the balcony and slid the glass door shut behind him.

Unfortunately, it did not close all the way.

His voice drifted inside, every word perfectly clear.

"Don't worry. I reset the seat. It's exactly the same position as the last time you rode in it. I'll pick you up for physical therapy tomorrow right on time. I promise your back won't hurt."

My fingers tightened around the cup.

I opened a used car marketplace app and entered my car's model and license plate to get an estimated value.

Then, I checked the remaining loan balance.

If I paid it off early, combined with the honeymoon deposit I had just gotten refunded, it would be enough.

I had spent nearly six months planning that trip. It was supposed to be our honeymoon after we got engaged.

Yesterday, Chester had brushed it off. "Linnea can't miss her rehab sessions. We can travel another time."

I did not argue. I simply canceled the flights and hotel.

When Chester came back inside, he tucked the blanket around me and told me to stop overthinking everything and get some sleep.

With my eyes closed, I gave a quiet hum in response.

Only after the shower started running did I open my eyes again.

I saved a screenshot of the used car appraisal. The passenger seat was not mine anymore. There was no point in keeping the car.

The same went for the man who drove it.