I Sold Her Mercedes And Left

Summary

The moment my son climbed into the backseat, he pulled a crumpled lemon-poppyseed muffin from his backpack.

Michelle’s face went stone-cold.

"I’ve told you a thousand times, no eating in the car. Who raised you to be so undisciplined?"

Toby flinched, the pastry halfway to his mouth.

Michelle stared at a few stray crumbs that had tumbled onto the leather upholstery, and her temper snapped. "You’re just like your father. Completely lacking any sense of class."

I froze, my hand still gripping the door handle.