I stand in the parking lot of the van rental place, staring at the giant box truck. It looks much too big for me to drive. I wish I’d decided to hire movers. But a small voice inside had urged me to drive the truck myself. To physically be the one to drive my life away from my husband and all his bullshit nonsense.
Ex-husband. I say it out loud again, hoping this time the truth of it sticks. I am free.
I wave to the rental guy, staring at me with some trepidation as he taps his pen on his clipboard. Blowing my bangs up out of my eye, I swing open the door and climb inside. I pull the seat up as far as it goes and adjust the mirrors.
Slowly, painstakingly, I make my way to the house I’ve never liked much. A sprawling brick monstrosity on a rolling suburban lawn, the house is situated
