The last time I saw her, she was cloaked in darkness. She hid her secrets well. She always had.

There I slouched, her most recent victim, beaten and bloody, exposed and riddled with shame. It only took 15 years, but I’d served my time and paid my dues. Suitcases packed, van loaded with life’s accumulation of failures, it was finally time to bid her adieu. My farewell wasn’t so much a parting as it was a desperate attempt at escape. I wanted it to be about new beginnings, but it was never about that, was it? I was always so good at running away.

I shuddered in the chill air and turned back to my vehicle. It was five o’clock and most people were already inside for the rest of the evening. I pictured their happy faces hidden behind the curtains of those big McMansions. I knew I was only fooling myself when I said things would change. This wasn’t my first rodeo. Nevertheless, I pushed the guilty memories aside and continued on my way.

At the corner, instead of turning left, I turned right, towards the freeway. In the rearview mirror, her lights twinkled invitingly, but I kept my gaze on the road and watched it unfold. A new mistress was beckoning.