Chapter 10: The Open Road

The day of departure was a fine day.

It happened to be the county fair.

Very lively.

But the bustle had nothing to do with me. I, with a little maid, slowly moved things onto the pickup truck.

Box after box, item after item, filling the truck bed so full there was barely room to sit.

The little maid complained softly that I brought too many useless things, making her suffer in the July heat; she didn’t want to go with me.

“Go back to Natalie. I’m not used to being waited on.”

After sending the maid away, Jason came by.

He stood by the truck, glanced at my packed bed, frowned, and asked coldly, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

I pressed my lips and said nothing.

Because I knew he had more to say.

“Don’t forget, you are just a mistress and can’t ride with me and Natalie.”

“Don’t make trouble; that’s the rule.”

He added.

I shook my head, indicating I wouldn’t make trouble.

“I’ll ride with the driver.”

“I’m a small-town girl; I’m used to it.”

He was heading north to D.C.

I was heading west to the border.

We were never on the same path.

Jason’s face was as cold as March ice. He flicked his sleeve and left: “Do as you wish.”

Natalie finally appeared, surrounded by maids and agents, carefully helped into the car.

My side was desolate; even the only maid was sent away.

The driver hesitated: “Ma’am… Miss.”

I lifted my skirt and jumped onto the truck bed, sitting beside the driver, saying softly:

“Go slowly.”

“No hurry.”

The wheels rumbled, heading toward the city gate.

My truck was heavy and moved especially slowly.

In my sight, Jason’s car grew farther and farther away.

At first, he had the driver stop to wait for me, sent people several times to urge me to hurry and not fall behind.

The driver patted his chest: “There’s only one highway to D.C. You won’t get lost.”

Natalie lifted the curtain, her face excited:

“Jason, let’s go faster. Maybe we can catch the cherry blossoms in D.C.”

Hearing this, Jason couldn’t help but speed up, and the cars moved faster and faster.

The city gate was crowded with cars, pickup trucks, pedestrians, and delivery guys. It took a while to squeeze through.

Jason did not notice that none of the cars following on the highway was mine.

Watching Jason’s car pull farther and farther away.

The driver revved the engine: “Miss, hold on.”

But I put my hand on the brake, took out a hundred-dollar bill from my purse, and said, “Thank you. I’ll drive the rest of the way myself.”

The driver was hired, did his job for pay, asked nothing, took the money, and got out.

I turned the truck and headed west toward the border.

The open road shimmered in the late sun, and the horizon stretched wide ahead of me. I didn’t know what waited out west. But for the first time, I was driving toward my own future—not someone else’s.