Driving My Car To His Bed

My coworkers always told me I had the perfect girlfriend.

No matter the weather, rain or shine, Lauren would call me without fail, offering sweet, gentle reminders to stay dry and keep warm.

But my best friend, Wyatt, didn't buy the act.

If you both work in the exact same building, why doesn't she just walk out with you and ride home together? he asked one afternoon, his voice laced with casual skepticism.

I smiled, shaking my head, and offered the same excuse I always did: her department got off ten minutes earlier than mine.

But in truth, every time I walked into the subway station, collapsing my wet umbrella while cold rain dripped down the back of my neck, a heavy, quiet ache would settle in my chest.

That was until a coworker of mine ended up transferring to the firm where Wyatt worked.

He was the one who sent me the photo.

It was taken right outside their office building.

The image was clear: Wyatt was holding a large umbrella, tilting it carefully over Lauren, shielding her body with his own as he guided her toward the passenger side of her car.

Lauren hadn't caught a single drop of rain.

A follow-up text from my coworker popped up: "This has been going on for a month. I've been debating whether or not I should tell you."

I stared at the screen for a very long time, my mind completely blank, until a single tear slipped down my cheek and smeared the glass.

She didn't want to wait ten minutes for me. Because she was driving all the way across town, taking the long route, just to pick him up and drive home together.

The car she was driving was one I had bought for her.

I looked up at the window. Outside, the sky was black, releasing a furious, unforgiving downpour.

Right on cue, Laurens daily text message lit up my phone. It was the same predictable routine.

"Its pouring out. How are you getting home?"

"Make sure you stay safe."

I stared at her words, but all I could see was the tilted angle of the umbrella in that photo. After a long pause, I typed out a brief reply.

"Im not coming home tonight."

I stayed at my desk until nine o'clock. Lauren sent message after message, but I didn't reply to a single one. I simply didn't know how to look her in the eye.

At ten, she showed up at the office lobby.

The moment she spotted me sitting alone in the dim reception area, she rushed over, shaking out a dry coat she carried on her arm and draping it over my shoulders.

"Why haven't you come home?"

Before I could answer, she took my wrist and pulled me toward the exit, her voice a soft, scolding murmur.

"Silly. You're a grown man, Jesse. You'd think you'd know enough to go home when it's raining."

Outside, the storm had quieted into a steady drizzle.

She opened her umbrella and held it over us, but as we walked, she subtly tilted the canopy toward her own shoulder. The cold mist drifted onto my bare neck.

That familiar, suffocating wave of helplessness washed over me again.

As soon as we got into the car, I unlocked my phone and held the photo directly in front of her face.

"Can you explain this?"

Lauren froze. A flicker of sheer panic crossed her eyes before she quickly masked it.

"We... we just happened to be heading the same way. Where did you even get this picture, Jesse?"

I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. "You're the one who needs to explain."

Lauren let out a dry, dismissive cough.

"Wyatt is your best friend. He only looks out for me because of you. It's just a favor."

I didn't argue. I just kept my eyes locked on hers, searching for any trace of the woman I thought I knew.

The silence inside the car became heavy and suffocating.

Finally, Lauren let out a long, weary sigh and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Its absolutely nothing, Jesse. Weve been together for eight years. Do you seriously trust some random gossip over me? You're just overthinking things."

At that exact second, her phone began to ring.

I glanced at the illuminated dashboard screen. The caller ID was a single red heart emoji.

She answered, and Wyatts voice filled the quiet car.

"Hey, the rain is brutal today. You're definitely going to catch a cold when you get home. Make sure you brew some hot tea, okay?"

He paused, then continued in a casual, familiar tone. "Oh, by the way, those bagels you bought for Jesse last month were amazing. Bring me some when you pick me up tomorrow morning, will you?"

"Hello? Lauren? Can you hear me?"

When had their conversations started sounding so comfortable? So much like an old married couple?

For a terrifying second, I felt like a stranger intruding on someone else's life.

The car was dead silent.

Lauren finally spoke, her voice tight. "Jesse knows."

Wyatt hung up almost instantly.

A moment later, my own phone began to buzz with calls and a barrage of texts. All of them from Wyatt.

"Jesse, buddy, you know how you get. Lauren and I are completely platonic, swear. Don't make a big deal out of nothing."

Was I really just overthinking?

I clicked the power button, turning my screen dark. My head was spinning, my vision blurring behind a hot screen of tears.

"When did it start?"

"Jesse, please don't"

"I asked you when it started!"

I pushed her hand away, lunging forward to grab the dashcam's memory card reader.

Lauren immediately tried to block me, scrambling to grab my wrists. But she was too late. I pulled up the footage on my phone.

Today.

Yesterday.

The day before that.

Every single day. The moment she clocked out, she drove straight to Wyatts office to pick him up. Every single day, rain or shine.

And all the while, she had kept me at arm's length with lies about mismatched schedules while I trudged through the rain to catch the subway.

The loop only stored three months of data. By the time I finished scrolling through the dates, I was weeping openly, my chest heaving.

"Why?" I sobbed, the sound raw and ugly. "Why would you do this to me? Why the two of you? Why?"

Outside, a sudden crack of thunder shook the sky, a perfect, mocking soundtrack to my unraveling.

Lauren reached out and tried to pull me into her arms.

"Jesse, stop, please. It breaks my heart to see you like this..."

I wrenched myself out of her embrace. I blinked away the burning tears, my throat raw.

"We're done," I said. "It's over."

The moment we got back to the apartment, I began packing my things.

I remembered a joke I had made to Wyatt years ago when we first moved in. "I shouldn't buy too much stuff," Id laughed. "If Lauren and I ever break up, packing will be humiliating."

How cruel, to have predicted my own ruin.

It didn't take long. Eight years of my life fit neatly into just two suitcases.

Lauren sat on the edge of the sofa, watching me in icy silence. She didn't offer a single word until I rolled my suitcases toward the front door.

"I'm giving you one chance to regret this," she said quietly. "We're supposed to get married soon, Jesse. This little tantrum is getting ridiculous."

I responded by shutting the door behind me.

Walking down the dark, wet street with my suitcases dragging behind me, my mind slipped back to our college graduation.

"Lauren, I promise you, I will never let you suffer like this. We will always have a roof over our heads."

When we first arrived in New York City, we were young, broke, and squeezed into a miserable little apartment. One night, our landlord abruptly kicked us out at midnight because someone else offered double the rent. Our meager belongings had been thrown out into the hallway, our cheap suitcases tumbling down the stairs.

I had picked up those broken bags, looked into her tear-streaked face, and made that promise.

I had smiled then, full of foolish, naive hope.

But I wasn't smiling now.

Now, I was the one walking the streets alone in the dark.

Lauren, you absolute liar.

Rainwater and sweat mixed on my face. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see Wyatt's name on the screen.

"Jesse, stop being dramatic," Wyatt said the moment I answered. "Go back home. Don't make Lauren worry about you."

Worry about me. What a joke.

Three years ago, Lauren had been overwhelmed by the pressure of working in New York and wanted to relocate to Charleston. I didn't hesitate; I quit my promising management track job and followed her south.

But Charleston's job market wasn't kind to me. The sudden stress, combined with a severe stomach ulcer, landed me in a hospital bed.

Wyatt had flown down the moment he heard. I remembered him standing by my hospital bed, his eyes red with tears. He and Lauren took turns caring for me for two straight months until I recovered and finally landed a local desk job.

I had felt so incredibly loved back then.

But now, a sickening thought crept in. "When did they really start getting close? Was it during those long hours by my sickbed?"

The more I thought, the more I loathed my own stupidity.

The rain kept falling, and the thunder made me shiver to my bones.

"Don't worry about it," I told Wyatt, my voice shaking. "I'm never going back. I hope I never see either of you again for the rest of my life. I can't wish you well. Goodbye."

I hung up, dragged my bags into a nearby budget hotel, and checked in.

Staring up at the sterile ceiling of my room, my mind replayed every detail of the evening. Sleep was impossible. I was used to Laurens weight beside me, her voice soothing me to sleep.

I would never have that again.

Tears slipped silently down into my hair, but I didn't even have the energy to wipe them away.

Suddenly, I thought I heard Lauren and Wyatt's voices in the hallway. I must be losing my mind, I thought.

But when I opened the door, they were actually standing there.

When I demanded to know how they had found me, they both stumbled over their words, but the pieces fell into place quickly enough.

To keep their little secret safe from me, Lauren had secretly installed a tracking app on my phone.

No wonder she always knew where I was.

Lauren tried to grab my hand. "Jesse, don't look at me like that. It was only for your safety."

Wyatt wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. "See? He's perfectly fine. You worried over nothing."

He looked at me, his lip curling in disgust. "I honestly thought youd gone off to get a room with some random girl. If Lauren hadn't been hysterical, I wouldn't have wasted my night coming here."

Lauren nudged him, frowning. "Wyatt, shut up."

But Wyatt kept going. "You and Lauren are getting married. Stop acting like a child. I can explain the rides. Lauren is delicate. She can't walk in the rainit triggers her migraines."

The excuse sounded horribly familiar.

Three years ago, Lauren had suddenly insisted on buying a car. I had been thrilled, thinking she was finally planning for our future. I paid for the vehicle in full, in cash, and registered it under her name as a gesture of my devotion.

But once the keys were in her hand, she never brought up marriage again. Instead, she claimed Wyatt needed to borrow it for his commute. That "temporary" loan had lasted three whole years.

Now, the memory of the night before we bought that car flashed in my mind. Wyatt had caught a fever after getting drenched in a storm. Lauren and I had gone to his apartment to bring him medicine.

I remembered him sighing on his couch. "I wish I never had to walk in the rain again."

"How long?" I asked, my voice flat. "How long has it been?"

Wyatt answered without a shred of hesitation. "Three years."

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

Three years. The car had been bought for him from the very beginning. I had been nothing but a bank account and a fool.

"Get out," I said, slamming the door in their faces. I called the front desk and had security escort them out of the building.

I didn't sleep a single wink that night.

The next morning, I bought a new phone, threw my old one in a trash can, and walked into my office to hand in my resignation.

During our three years in Charleston, Lauren had used her family connections to climb into a comfortable management role. Meanwhile, despite my degree from a top-tier university, I had settled for a low-level administrative clerk job just to keep her happy.

My work was so simple that it didn't even require a transition period. No one tried to convince me to stay.

As I walked out of the HR department, I ran right into Lauren.

She blocked my path, her eyes darting between me and the directors office.

"Are you going to complain to management?" she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "Are you trying to tell them I'm immoral? You've really grown a spine, haven't you, Jesse?"

"I didn't"

"Let me tell you something," she interrupted, stepping closer. "My word carries a lot more weight in this company than yours ever will."

I remembered our life in New York. I had earned five times her salary back then. She used to knock politely before entering my office. But in Charleston, the power dynamic had completely shifted.

She reached back, curling her arm through Wyatts as he stepped up behind her.

"If I hear a single whisper of you trying to ruin Wyatt's reputation here, Jesse, I will make your life a living hell."

I had no energy left to explain myself. I brushed past her outstretched arm.

"I just resigned," I said quietly. "Let me through."

Lauren froze, then lunged forward to grab my sleeve. "What do you mean, you resigned? Explain yourself!"

I tried to pull away from her grip. In the clumsy scuffle, she let out a sharp gasp, clutching her abdomen as she fell to her knees on the polished floor.

I instinctively reached down to help her up.

Before I could touch her, a shadow crossed my face.

"Smack."

A stinging slap landed squarely across my cheek, sending a dull ring through my ears.

Wyatts eyes were practically burning with rage as he scooped Lauren into his arms.

"She's two months pregnant!" he roared. "How dare you lay a hand on her!"

Two months?

My mind spun. Two months ago was exactly when we were supposed to get married. But she had suddenly called off the entire ceremony, canceling the venue and the dress at a massive financial loss. She had claimed the date was "unlucky."

Now I understood. She just couldn't bear the thought of Wyatts child being born a bastard.

My head throbbed, the world tilting on its axis.

Wyatt sneered, his voice a cruel whisper. "Want to know when it happened? If youd watched that dashcam footage for just one more second, you would have seen us doing it in the parking lot of your apartment building. Every single day, right before she went upstairs to you."

"Don't blame us, Jesse. Lauren was bored of you years ago."

He smirked. "What's with the blank stare? Want me to copy the files for you? You can listen to it on repeat."