The Red Polka Dot Tie: When a Ten-Year Romance Unravels

Summary

My husband parked in my assigned parking spot again.

The front of his car was angled sharply over the line, obnoxiously taking up two spaces.

This was the third time.

I didn't call him right away to come downstairs and move it. Instead, I took a quick video and posted it on my Instagram Story.

A second later, the Gen Z intern I was mentoring—a guy who constantly bragged about having eighteen ex-girlfriends—sent me a DM:

[Hey boss, based on my experience, this is sketchy as hell. If you still want to make it work with him, call him to come down and move it.