I Said It Didn’t Need Directions

It was a place I’d never been before, but it didn’t seem complicated.

I had the address. I had my phone. I had a general sense of direction.

He said, “Just put it in maps. It’s easier.”

I waved him off.

“I know where I’m going.”

I didn’t.

But I felt like I did.

We started driving, and at first, everything looked right.

The turns made sense. The streets looked familiar enough. I was confident.

Then things started getting… less familiar.

Still fine though.

I kept going.

He glanced at my phone sitting in the cup holder and said, “You sure you don’t want to just—”

“I’m good.”

Again, too quick. Too sure.

A few minutes later, we hit a road that didn’t look right at all.

Narrow. No signs. Definitely not where we were supposed to be.

I slowed down.

Looked around.

Tried to piece it together in my head like I could somehow fix it without admitting anything.

He didn’t say a word.

Just sat there.

Which somehow made it worse.

I made another turn.

Then another.

Now we were fully lost.

I picked up my phone, stared at it for a second, then quietly opened maps like I should’ve done ten minutes ago.

The route popped up immediately.

We were going the complete wrong direction.

I just exhaled and said, “Don’t.”

He smiled a little and looked out the window.

“I’m not saying anything.”

And he didn’t.

But yeah.

My husband was right.