Browsing my phone at work, I stumbled upon a forum post: ["Accidentally pregnant but not done partying. How to abort AND make my husband love me more?!"] The top reply chilled me: ["Frame an intern—preferably one with a new car (money + naivety). 'Borrow' it during lunch, take the pill in her car, then blame her. Guaranteed compensation + husband’s sympathy."] OP liked this. I scoffed. Use protection if you’re not ready! But ruining an innocent life? Pathetic. As I went to report it, my coworker suddenly asked: "Ashley... your new car’s in the underground garage, right?" 1 I looked up instinctively. “Oh, yeah, Brenda. It’s in our company’s designated parking area.” Brenda smiled sweetly. “You’re so lucky. All our company spots were taken, and the last one was actually reserved for me. But I decided not to buy a car for now, so I let them give the spot to you.” “Oh, wow, thanks so much for that! But isn't it inconvenient for you not to have a car?” Brenda covered her mouth with her hand, letting out a delicate laugh. “My husband drops me off and picks me up every single day. It’s not inconvenient at all!” “I see. You two must have a great relationship!” At my words, Brenda let out another one of her signature dainty giggles. I kept a fake smile plastered on my face, but a layer of goosebumps had already broken out on my arms. I’d only been an intern here for a week, but I’d already gotten a read on everyone’s personalities. Brenda was the office’s resident “spoiled wife.” She couldn’t go three sentences without mentioning her husband. I had no interest in continuing the conversation. I glanced at the time, grabbed my phone, and headed for the elevator. But as soon as the doors opened, I saw Brenda standing inside, clutching a pillow and a small blanket, a wide smile on her face. “Perfect timing. I was just waiting for you!” I was confused. “What? Waiting for me? Do you need something?” She just gave me a mysterious smile and said nothing. I was baffled but didn't press the issue. My mind, however, couldn’t stop replaying the forum post from this morning. No way. It can’t be. Am I really that unlucky? Did I stumble upon the real-life version of that toxic poster? Just then, the elevator dinged. “First floor.” Brenda walked out, still holding her things. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. I was just overthinking it. But just as I relaxed and started scrolling through my phone again, a foot suddenly jammed into the gap of the closing elevator doors. “Wait, wait!” I flinched, and my head snapped up to see the doors slide open again, revealing Brenda’s face. She was holding the pillow and blanket in one arm and a bag of takeout in the other. “That delivery took forever!” she complained. I eyed her cautiously. “Brenda, where are you going with all that?” She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to take my lunch nap.” “But…” I started, but was cut off by another ding. The doors opened. “Basement Level 1.” Brenda immediately stepped out. “Come on!” I couldn’t help but ask, “Brenda, I thought you didn’t have a car. Where are you going to nap?” She turned around and gave me a look like I was the stupidest person on earth. “In your car, of course! Now hurry up, it’s boiling down here. Go turn on the A/C.” I stopped in my tracks. “My car?” 2 Brenda didn’t stop walking, heading straight for my EV. “Yes, your car.” I hesitated for a moment before speaking, putting extra emphasis on my words. “Right. So, this is my car.” She slapped the takeout bag onto the hood of my car. “Yes, yes, I know it’s your car. Just open it!” I frowned. Remembering I was just an intern, I took a deep breath and tried to be patient. “Brenda, doesn’t everyone usually nap in the office breakroom? Besides, my car can’t fit two people.” Brenda pouted. “The breakroom is so loud and uncomfortable. You’re the only one in the office with an EV. They’re perfect for sleeping in!” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “If you sleep in my car, where do I sleep?” “You can sleep in the breakroom. You’re an intern! It’s a great chance to bond with everyone!” she said, as if she were doing me a favor. “I’m only telling you this because I feel sorry for you. You don’t have to thank me too much. Just buy me lunch tomorrow.” Before I could protest, she snatched the key card from my hand and unlocked the car. She plopped herself into the passenger seat, takeout in hand. “Ugh, how do you adjust this seat?” she muttered, her fingers poking and prodding randomly at my center console. The screen flickered on and off as she mashed the buttons. Defeated, I got into the driver’s seat and adjusted the seat for her. Once she was comfortable, Brenda placed the container of spicy, garlicky noodle soup directly on my center console. “You need to get one of those little tray tables for tomorrow. This is so inconvenient for eating!” The moment she opened the container, a thick, pungent cloud of chili oil and garlic filled the entire car. I immediately snatched the lid and put it back on. “Brenda, this is a small space for sleeping. Eating something with such a strong smell isn’t really… appropriate, is it?” Brenda glanced around, thought for a second, and nodded. “You’re right. It is a bit inappropriate.” Hearing that, I relaxed slightly. At least she was capable of reason. But just as I was about to speak again, Brenda cut me off. “This car of yours is just not set up right. No tray table, no proper drink holders… and I need to watch my shows when I eat. You have hardly any apps on this giant screen. Do you have memberships for Netflix, Hulu, and Max?” “The show I’m watching now requires the premium tier. Here,” she said, holding up her phone with a QR code displayed. “Scan this and sign me up for the yearly plan. It’ll be more convenient for me.” I almost laughed out loud from sheer disbelief. “Only your husband would tolerate you eating, sleeping, and watching TV in his car. And newsflash, I’m not your husband.” Brenda seemed completely oblivious to my sarcasm. Instead, she gave me a bashful smile. “Oh, you could never compare to my husband. He’s the best, best, best person in the world!” “But, even though you’re not as good as him, I’m willing to give you a chance. A chance to upgrade your car. I’ll come back tomorrow to check on your progress!” With that, she slurped up a mouthful of noodles from the container. I watched in horror as a splash of oily broth flew out and landed squarely on my center console. I was at my breaking point, ready to explode, when Brenda suddenly clutched her stomach. 3 I froze. The forum post from that morning flashed through my mind. A knot of anxiety tightened in my gut. “What’s wrong?” I blurted out. “Are you feeling sick?” Brenda just rubbed her stomach and smiled. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing. I probably just ate too fast.” She went back to shoveling food into her mouth. But when she glanced up a moment later, I caught a fleeting, smug smirk on her face. What is she smiling about? A strange, unsettling feeling crept over me. I knew, with absolute certainty, that I could not let her sleep in my car. So, I waited. When she finished eating, she’d have to get out to throw away the trash, right? The moment she stepped out, I’d lock the doors. That would solve the problem. Her table manners were atrocious, but she was a fast eater. In no time, the container was empty. I watched her drink the last of the broth and start packing up the trash, my hand poised over the lock button on my key card. She wiped her mouth, let out a loud burp, and picked up the bag. My finger was literally on the button. But instead of getting out, she held the bag of trash out to me. It took me a second to process. “...What’s this for?” “Throw it out,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you have any common sense?” “...You want me to throw it out?” “Duh. Should I do it?” Brenda said incredulously. “When I’m in my husband’s car, I never have to throw out the trash. He always does it for me.” I was genuinely flabbergasted. “Brenda, I’m not your husband.” “I know that. And even if you wanted to be, I wouldn’t give you the chance. My husband would go crazy, hehe!” I had never felt so exhausted trying to communicate with another human being. So this was the infamous “spoiled wife.” It was clear she had no intention of leaving the car. My brain kicked into gear. I started the car. “Brenda, I just remembered I have to run an errand. The sun is blazing out there, and it’ll take me at least an hour. You should probably just go back to the office to sleep.” Brenda was completely unbothered. “I’ll just sleep here. You drive, I’ll sleep.” She slipped on an eye mask and immediately lay back. Fine. If she wouldn’t listen to reason, I’d have to take matters into my own hands. I slammed my foot on the accelerator and shot out of the underground garage. It was a sweltering August afternoon, hot as a furnace outside. I pulled up a map and found a shopping plaza with only outdoor parking. I chose a spot with zero shade, directly under the scorching sun, and got out. Sure enough, ten minutes later, my phone rang. It was Brenda. “When are you coming back? It’s an oven in here!” I took a long, cool sip of my iced tea. “Oh, sorry, Brenda,” I said, my voice dripping with fake apology. “It’s going to be at least another half hour over here. Maybe you should just head back on your own!” I heard her hang up with an angry huff, and a smile tugged at my lips. That should get rid of her for good. But when I got back to the office, my coworkers were giving me strange looks. Before I could figure out why, my phone buzzed. I looked down. The forum post had been updated.
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