In my car, I tap ‘Durango, Colorado’ into the GPS.
Wow. Okay, so this going to be one hell of a long drive.
I consider for a moment flying to Colorado, but then I decide I want to leave no trace for Forbes to follow. Not that I think airports give out that type of information, but Forbes can be very persuasive when he wants to be, and I just don’t want to risk leaving him a way to find me.
I know he’ll look for me.
Forbes is not the kind of guy who gives up easily on what he thinks belongs to him. And he definitely believes that I am his.
I get back on the road and drive for a few hours before I need to stop for gas. While in the station, I ask the attendant if there are any malls nearby. No malls, but he tells me there is a Walmart a few miles away.
Perfect.
I follow his directions to Walmart. I stock up on jeans, t-shirts, tank tops, pajamas, underwear, toiletries and more Advil. I also grab a pair of ballet flats. And a gym bag to keep all my new things in.
Heading for the checkout, I pay for my items, making small talk with the cashier.
I’ve just left the store, bags in hand, when I realize I haven’t gotten a hairdryer. My hair is a nightmare—thick and holds water like a sponge. It was still damp this morning from washing it last night.
I’m just about to head back inside, when the hair salon next door catches my eye. Before I even have a chance to think, I’m walking toward it, then I’m seated before a mirror as a woman called Shirley asks what I want to do with my hair today.
I blink. “Oh, uh…”
My eyes drift around at the many pictures of hair models on the wall. Then I realize what I want. I want to look different.
“I want you to cut it all off.”
Did I just say that?
“All?” She looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. I probably have.
I have great hair. It’s blonde, very thick and very long, but now I just want it gone. I want to look different. I want to start my new future, with a new me.
“Yes. I want that style.” I point at a picture of a woman with short hair. It’s a pixie style.
She looks so pretty…
So happy…
I want to look like that.
Shirley tilts her head to the side, assessing me in the mirror. “Well, you definitely have the bone structure to carry it off.” She smiles. “Right, let’s get your hair washed. Give you time to change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
I sit down at the basin and lie my head back into the sink.
“You okay to remove the sunglasses, sweetie?” Shirley asks.
I freeze.
It takes me a moment to gather the courage to reach my hand up and slowly slide them off.
I hear her gasp of breath, and I’m thankful that I can’t see the expression on her face.
“Sit forward, sweetie. I forgot to put a towel around your shoulders.”
I do as she asks.
Shirley slips a towel around my shoulders, then I feel her hand gently squeeze my shoulder.
It feels like support. Solidarity.
It brings a lump to my throat.
Maybe she knows what it’s like to get a black eye. It’s not the pain on the outside that does the damage; it’s the effect that bruise has on the inside that does the worst kind of damage.
The black eye heals. The pain never does.
“Right, lay yourself back,” Shirley says. “Let’s make a new woman of you.”
***
An hour later and I’m back in my car. My purchases on the backseat. The new me in the front.
I tilt the mirror to look at my new hairstyle. My bangs sweep across, hanging in my eyes a little, and it’s just long enough to tuck behind my ear, but it is short.
I look completely different, just like I wanted.
Suddenly, laughter bubbles up and out of me. I’m laughing, and I have no clue why, then without warning I burst into tears.
I’m laughing and crying. What the hell is wrong with me?
Maybe I’m having some kind of breakdown.
A woman walks past my car, giving me an odd look, and I realize I must look like a crazy person, sitting here laughing my head off with tears streaming down my face.
I dry my face with my hands, start my car up, and begin my long drive to Colorado.
Chapter Four
Mia
It’s early evening.
Two and a half very long days since I drove out of that Walmart parking lot, but I’m finally here, driving across the city limits and into Durango.
I’m stiff, tired, hungry and beyond crabby.
Apart from two nights spent in horrid motel rooms, all I’ve done is drive. Thank god for the radio is all I can say. I’ve spent entirely way too long in my car – more than any person ever should.
It’s my own fault. I could have taken a little longer to get here, but I’ve been on a mission to put as much distance between me and Forbes as possible.