Chapter 6: Strawberry-Sweet Freedom

Luckily, I’d already dropped my suitcase at my friend’s place. One night on her lumpy couch was no hardship. Early the next morning, she drove me to the airport, her old Chevy rattling over potholes, Garth Brooks on the radio, the sunrise painting the sky pink as we neared the terminal.

As I waited in line to check my bag, Derek sent me a text:

[Mom, do you have to be so stubborn? Is it so hard to call or text Dad and apologize? You’re making things hard for me and Tanya.]

Frank texted, too:

[Linda, you’ve really grown. I won’t stop you. Let’s just get divorced.]

I replied with a single word: “Okay.” Then I turned off my phone and switched to the new SIM card Natalie’s friend had set up for me, her handwriting neat on the envelope.

My friend nudged me, a sly smile on her lips. “Really getting divorced?”

I smiled back, the airport bright and full of possibilities. “There are still many days ahead. Time to live differently.”

As the plane rumbled down the runway, I looked out the window and let the old life slip away behind me—soft, almost sweet. The sky ahead was clear and wide. I felt young again, hope swelling in my chest, strawberry-sweet and endless.