Gage and Sadie

Chapter 7: Sadie

"Sade, we can't just swap cars like this," Oliver protested at lunch that day. "That man just gave you a fully-loaded BMW that probably goes for two hundred thousand at the least. You can't give it to me."

"I'm not giving it to you, Oliver. I'm trading you my car for yours."

He rolled his eyes at me. "And my car is twelve years old, has a hundred and seventy thousand miles on it and, on days it isn't raining, is worth maybe two hundred dollars if I'm lucky -- and that's if it has a full tank of gas."

"It's perfect. Just what I want."

"No." He shook his head at me, not wanting to give into my plan.

"Fine," I said. "Then I'm going to trash it -- smash all the windows, pour sugar in the gas tank, rip the seats with a knife, dent every single panel on the car, break the lights, key the paint job all over and spray paint swear words all over it in red."

At that, he looked pained. "Sadie, that's a waste of a beautiful machine."

"I don't want it, Oliver. I didn't ask for it, and he took my car without asking me -- as if he had a right to interfere in my life in any way -- and gave me this car that I don't want."

"Fine. Let's swap," he admitted defeat. "But only because you're stubborn enough to do it and my heart really couldn't handle seeing such a beautiful car trashed."

"You've been such a good friend, Oliver," I told him solemnly. "I appreciate the sacrifice you're making for me." 

After work we signed over the titles to our respective vehicles, and once it was done and we'd exchanged keys, I looked at Oliver.

"I wouldn't have trashed it. I would have donated it to a women's shelter."

He really looked pained after I admitted that. 

"Too late. It's yours now," I sang as I threw his keys in the air and caught them in my hand.

I drove home quite happily to my apartment in Oliver's former car. It was rusty, it was a dented mess, but the brakes worked well and the engine seemed to work just fine. Except when it backfired and belched out black smoke every time I hit the gas. But other than that, it ran perfectly.

I pulled into my spot and noticed a limo glide up behind me. Gage got out just as I did, and his face tightened in anger.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, his voice low, vibrating with angry energy.

"My new car!" I waved my hand toward it with a flourish. "Isn't she a beaut?" I would have given the car a sharp smack on the trunk, but I was afraid the bumper might fall off.

"Where's your new car?"

"Oh, I traded cars with Oliver. He didn't want to, but I threatened to destroy the BMW, and Oliver couldn't bear that, so he gave in when I suggested a swap. It was all really legal-like when we signed over the titles to each other. I felt like such an adult!"

I held my smile while he glared at me. 

"Well, this has been real pleasant but fun as this staring contest is, I need to get going," I said as I started to walk away.

"Sadie, that car's not safe. I don't want you driving it."

"Sorry, you don't get a say in what I drive."

"I'm your husband, Sadie, whether you want to admit it or not. That gives me every right to make sure my wife is safe."

"But I'm not your wife," I shot at him. "I'm just the woman you're married to, by your own admission."