Poor Driver? No, I'm the Heiress

Ethan thinks I'm dirty because I drive for Uber.

If my hands touch his shirt after touching the steering wheel, he has to disinfect it.

For seven years of marriage, he constantly tells me I'm an embarrassment, that I'm just a poor driver who doesn't deserve a university professor like him.

That night, after dropping off my last passenger and preparing to clock out, the female passenger had a six-year-old boy with her.

As soon as they got in, she called her husband saying she was coming home for their anniversary.

The voice on the phone sounded exactly like my husband, Ethan.