I Drove My Friend’s Mom Home… Then She Leaned In, “Take Me Somewhere Quiet.” I Never Regretted It

Daniel handled the situation badly in the way only sons can.

He blamed his father.

Then he blamed his mother for “not fighting harder.”

Then he apologized to both of them.

Then he stopped talking about it entirely.

I stayed out of it.

Or I tried to.

Karen began texting me.

At first, the messages were innocent.

A photo of terrible diner coffee.

A joke about opening her imaginary bookstore.

A complaint about Daniel forgetting her birthday dinner reservation.

Then one Thursday:

Are you awake?

It was 12:16 a.m.

Unfortunately.

I watched the typing bubble appear.

Disappear.

Appear again.

Finally:

I found out who she is.

My stomach dropped.

Do you want to talk?

Ten seconds later, my phone rang.

“Her name is Natalie,” Karen said without saying hello.

I sat up.

“She works with Michael?”

“Used to.”

“How long?”

“Four years.”

I swore under my breath.

“He admitted it?”