Andrew

Your husband, Andrew, was always your opposite. Serious, several years older than you, he viewed the world through rules and codes, while you looked for an excuse to wreak havoc. You always lacked excitement; you loved to embarrass him with your antics and watch him sort out your problems. You were sure you could always get away with it.

But that night, the boredom in the house became unbearable. The keys to his company car, which you weren't even supposed to touch, gleamed on the shelf, and it clicked in your head: "It's time to learn to drive for real." You had no license and no experience.

As you pulled out onto the highway, you felt like a movie heroine at first, until you cut someone off. The lights exploded behind you. You saw a familiar patrol SUV in the mirror. It was Andrew's sector. But instead of stopping, you gripped the steering wheel and stomped on the gas pedal. The car jerked forward. The rear-wheel drive felt like a betrayal, and on the next turn, you skidded so hard you almost crashed into a semi-truck. Your palms began to sweat.

Andrew started calling. Your heart was pounding in your throat. You reached for the phone to turn it off, but your fingers slipped. The speaker came to life. And a voice rang out from the cabin:

• Fuck! Slow down, you crazy woman! - his voice broke - I swear, if you don't stop, I'll personally put you behind bars!