The Woman in My Seat
Seven years into dating, Kirk came to pick me up from work in the pouring rain.
I opened the door to the front passenger seat, finding the fabric soaked and a single strand of hair stuck to it.
Kirk kept both hands on the wheel, not even glancing at me.
“I dropped an intern from the project department off at home. She was drenched since she didn’t have an umbrella with her.”
I sat on the damp seat, my heart sinking.
“Kirk, you, of all people, should know I have anxiety about certain things.”
“It’s just a seat. She’s younger and more interesting than you. Heck, she looks prettier even when she’s drenched.
“I’ve been with her, and honestly, she’s a lot more fun.
“I’ll still propose to you, but you need to stay oblivious for us to carry on.”
The rain battered the windows, yet it was the tension inside the car that left me struggling to breathe.