At first, Harry would still drop me off at work. But then the detours started. “Mom needs me to swing by first.”
Then it became, “I’ll pick you up after I take Mom to her appointment.”
Then, his mother started needing rides.
Soon, I was back on public transportation, standing at crowded bus stops in the rain.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry driving my car, his mother in the passenger seat, laughing like I didn’t exist. And what crushed me most was knowing I’d paid for that car with my grandmother’s money.
One morning, I was 20 minutes late to work because the bus broke down. When I got home that evening, exhausted and damp from walking in the drizzle, Harry was watching TV.
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