Chapter 6 - The Car That Wasn't Mine Anymore
The January payment was for the car.
My car.
At least, legally.
Two years earlier, Dad’s old sedan had died. His credit was terrible, so I financed a used SUV in my name and let him make the payments.
Except he hadn’t.
Not for eight months.
I had.
“I thought those automatic withdrawals were temporary,” I said.
Dad stared at the hotel carpet.
“You make more than I do.”
“That doesn’t make my paycheck communal property.”
“You don’t have kids.”
“No. I just apparently have three adults.”
He stood so fast the chair scraped the floor.
“You think you’re so damn clever now.”
“No. I think I’ve been stupid for six years.”
His face hardened.
That hurt more than I expected.
Then he said, “Your mother was right not to let you in.”
I opened the door.
“Leave.”
He did.
I called the lender.
The SUV balance was $17,460.
The registration was in my name.
The insurance was in my name.
Dad was only an approved driver.
Greg told me the cleanest option was to retrieve the vehicle rather than risk missed payments or an accident.
So at six that evening, I took a rideshare to my parents’ street with the spare key.
The house was bright.
Cars lined the curb.
Christmas decorations still blinked like nothing had happened.
Dad’s SUV sat in the driveway.
I unlocked it.
Then the front door opened.
Melanie ran outside.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking my car.”
“That’s Dad’s car.”
“No. Dad drives it.”
She planted herself beside the driver’s door.
“You’re trying to punish everyone.”
“I’m separating my finances.”
“Same thing.”
I stepped closer. “Move.”
For once, she did.
Then Tyler, her fiancé, walked onto the porch.
He looked confused.
“What’s going on?”
Melanie snapped, “Nothing.”
I looked at him.
“Ask her who paid for your engagement party.”
Her face went white.
Tyler frowned. “What?”
I got into the SUV.
Before I could close the door, he shouted after me.
“Aaron—what does that mean?”
May you like
Melanie grabbed his arm.
And for the first time all week, someone else started asking her questions.
