I slammed my car into reverse, pulled down the driveway of my overpriced suburban mansion, and skidded onto the street with a screech of rubber. For a second I considered speeding back down the driveway and slamming into my husband’s Porsche. Really ramming it. That would teach him.

But I didn’t. I took a deep breath, passed the four motorcycles parked side by side at the end of the driveway, and drove off without looking back.

My hands gripped the steering wheel like I was holding onto it for dear life. I drove erratically, too fast, tearing around corners. If I didn’t calm down I was going to cause an accident.

The radio was playing some sad, girl-loves-boy, girl-loses-boy song. It was the type of song that normally would have had me crying in seconds.

But I was done crying. I was sick and tired of being sad, and frankly, I don’t think I had any tears left in me.

I changed the station.

Taylor Swift? Nah.

Commercials.

Commercials.

Justin Bieber? Sorry, no. This wasn’t the time for adolescent angst.

I hit the next preset. Respect, by Aretha Franklin? Fuck, yes.

I cranked up the volume, opened the sunroof, grabbed my sunglasses and slid them on as I drove out of Palo Alto, screaming, “R-E-S-P-E-C-T, FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS TO ME,” at the top of my lungs.

The song ended as I merged onto the freeway. Some song I didn’t recognize came on next and I turned the volume down. It was in that moment, once the distraction of Aretha was gone, that I realized I had no idea where I was going. I had no plan, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t care.

All I knew was that I wanted to keep on driving and never go back. It had scarcely been five minutes since my marriage evaporated before my eyes, but already I felt more free, more myself, than I ever had with that asshole of a husband.

Then I had my second realization. My spur of the moment road trip meant I had packed nothing and all I had with me was my purse.

Ugh.

The stupid Coach purse Matt gave me after one of our many fights.

I grabbed it and tossed it on the backseat, out of my sight.

I couldn’t remember what that fight was about, but I did remember the loveless look on his face when he handed me the expensive gift. He was one of those men who thought he could solve any problem, no matter how serious, by spending money.

After a while, each expensive gift just hurt me more. It was never thoughtful, I don’t even like Coach. It was just his way of trying to shut me up.

The truth was, I didn’t need expensive gifts. All I needed was a husband who loved me. And that was the one thing Matt could never give. I finally knew it for certain.

My attention was drawn to the dashboard when the empty gas light turned on. So much for smooth sailing into my new life.

Luckily, there was a gas station a few minutes down the road.

I pulled up to the full service pump and asked the attendant to fill the tank with premium gas. I got out and opened the backdoor to grab my purse and headed into the convenience store. I took my time walking around and picked up a few snacks. Cracker Jacks, Bits ‘n Bites and a bag of Sour Patch Kids.

Don’t judge. I never denied being an emotional eater.

There was a display at the end of the aisle with sunglasses, hats and beach bags. I looked through the bags and found one on the smaller side with a few pockets and lots of color. I grabbed it and made my way to the checkout.

The young girl working at the cash register smiled when I put down all the snacks. Not in a judgmental way, but in an, excellent choice kind of way. We both laughed as she scanned them through. I reached for my purse and remembered about the gas.

“Oh and whatever it came to at pump six.”

I lifted up my Coach purse and dumped the contents on the counter. The girl looked at me like I was crazy. I started transferring all my stuff into the new bag.

“Why on earth are you taking your things out of that amazing Coach purse and putting them into this cheap gas station bag?” she asked. “Hah, yeah, I guess it does seem a little strange. I think I’ve finally come to the realization that money and fancy things aren’t the most important things in the world. But, I think I’ll still hold onto my Vogue sunglasses for now,” I said with a smile.

We laughed again and I put the Vogue case into my new purse. She told me the total and I tapped my credit card to pay.

I’d seen that same girl working at that rest stop every day for two years. She was a sweet girl. Always friendly, always helpful. I didn’t know anything about her but always assumed she was putting herself through college with the gas station paychecks.

“Here. You’d look amazing with a Coach purse,” I said, holding it out to her.

“No way. I can’t accept that. It’s far too expensive. I don’t deserve it,” she said, taking a step back and raising her hands in protest.

“You do deserve it,” I said. “You deserve the world. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

I handed her the purse and gave her a look that made it clear I meant it. She reached out and took it, still unsure if she was doing the right thing.

“Thank you so, so much,” she said.

“You’re so, so welcome,” I said and walked back to my car.

I could hear her squealing behind me as I left. I turned back and saw her holding it up like a winning lottery ticket, showing it to the other kid who worked the counter with her. He clearly didn’t have the same appreciation for purses she had but it made me happy to see her so excited.

I grabbed the keys from my new, gas station purse and got back into my Lexus. The luxury Lexus Matt had also bought me.

It was one of the many gifts I received after I told him I knew he’d been cheating on me for years.

Big fight, big gift. That’s the way it was in our marriage.

But with this gift he’d also dangled the promise of a family, our own baby some day, on the condition I didn’t leave him. He even went to the trouble of installing a car seat in the back.

But I never did get the baby.

I hated that I was driving a car he’d paid for but honestly, I wasn’t ready to give that away too. My high principals had their limit, and I’m a practical girl. I needed this getaway vehicle.

But I hated what it stood for with a passion. I still had no idea what my destination was, but the ocean was calling my name. I merged back onto the highway and continued south.

The sun was setting over San Jose and I put my car into cruise control. I turned the radio back on, turned the volume up to full and took a deep breath.

New life, here I come.