She didn’t care. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and the smug jerk she’d actually been considering marrying. What had she been thinking? The Lexus hugged the Colorado mountain road as it rounded another curve. The scent of pine filled the car as she cracked her window and breathed in the warm summer air. A cardboard box full of mementos of the life she no longer wanted sat in the passenger seat. A life full of emptiness and control. Destroying the box and its pitifully small contents was the first step to breaking free. She rounded another curve, and the box slid into the ample rump of the fat pug that shared the seat. The dog grunted his annoyance. “Sorry, Bagel.” She let up on the gas and breathed a sigh of relief as she passed the green sign reading, Cotton Creek Falls—3 Miles. Her special place. Her grandparents had been bringing her to the waterfall near their small town of Cotton Creek since she was old enough to walk.
