I borrowed my husband’s SUV while my car was at the mechanic’s. Then my lip balm rolled beneath his seat. When I reached down to grab it, I pulled out something that made no sense. Liam’s reaction when he called made one thing clear: I wasn’t supposed to find what was wedged underneath the seat.
I was sitting in the grocery store parking lot when my lip balm slipped into the narrow gap beside Liam’s driver’s seat.
“Perfect,” I muttered.
When I reached down to grab it, I found something that made no sense.
My own car was at the mechanic getting new brakes, so Liam had handed me his SUV keys that morning without hesitation.
That was normal for us.
What wasn’t normal was finding anything beneath his seat.
—
Liam treated that SUV better than some people treated their living rooms.
He vacuumed it every weekend, wiped dust off the dashboard, and had once made me finish a granola bar in our driveway because crumbs were apparently “how civilization collapses.”
