My Husband Told Me to Pay If I Wanted to Use ‘His’ Car, Like I Was Just a Roommate with a Bill
I was heading out to visit my mom after her stroke and asked to borrow my husband’s car. His response shook me: “Sure—$65 a day!” I was shattered when I realized he didn’t see me as his wife… just a roommate with a bill. But while I was gone, karma delivered a lesson he won’t forget.
I stared at the kitchen calendar, circling the dates in red marker. Three days at my mom’s house. Just three days to help her adjust after her stroke. I’d already packed my overnight bag and prepared meals for Liam and our daughter, Emma, to heat up while I was gone.
“I’ll be taking the car tomorrow morning,” I said, my back to Liam as I finished writing the instructions for Emma’s weekend activities.
From the living room couch came the familiar sound of the soft tap of his thumb against his phone screen.
“Sure! Glad you asked,” Liam said, not bothering to look up. “I want you to start paying me for using my car. I looked up the prices… $65 a day should cover it.”
I turned around, certain I’d misheard him. “What did you say?”
“Sixty-five a day. That’s actually cheaper than rental places charge.” His eyes remained fixed on his phone, his voice casual, as if he were commenting on the weather.
“You’re joking, right?”
He finally glanced up. “No, I’m serious, Sara. You use it all the time for your errands and to visit your mom. It adds up… wear and tear, miles, maintenance. The down payment was mine. If you use other people’s stuff, you have to PAY FOR IT!”
The marker slipped from my fingers, leaving a small red dot on the tile floor. “I’m the mother of your child, Liam. I’m your wife.”
He shrugged, already looking back at his phone. “That doesn’t mean you drive my car for free.”
My throat tightened as I tried to process what was happening. This car—the one we’d picked out together three years ago, the one I’d made half the payments on, the one I used to drive Emma to school every morning… was suddenly his alone.
“Got it,” I said.
I walked out of the kitchen, pulled my phone from my pocket, and called my best friend, Jess.
“Can you drive me to my mom’s tomorrow? I’ll explain when you get here.”
When Jess pulled into our driveway the next morning, I kissed Emma goodbye, told her to be good for her dad, and walked out without saying a word to Liam. He watched from the doorway, a flicker of confusion crossing his face as I got into Jess’s car instead of ours. Sorry, “his.”
“Everything okay?” he called out.
I rolled down the window. “Just respecting your property rights. See you in three days.”
Jess waited until we were on the highway before asking what happened. When I told her, she gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles went white.
“He did what? Sara, that’s… that’s not normal.”
“Is any of it normal anymore?” I whispered, watching the world blur past my window. “I do everything, Jess. Everything. And he acts like he’s doing me a favor by existing in the same house.”