Mid-January 2026
There are moments in life when you realize you have made a series of questionable decisions.
For example:
Accepting an invitation to spend the afternoon with your ridiculously attractive boss and others from work.
Driving nearly an hour into the middle of nowhere.
Ending up at a bright yellow house on a lake with a man whose aura practically screamed, “RUN!”
And then finding yourself trapped behind a locked sliding glass door while someone’s alleged long-time girlfriend screams obscenities at you through the screen.
That was my Saturday.
And somehow…
That isn’t even the craziest part……
It’s January 17, 2026. Two months and three days out of a five-year prison sentence.
My boss is constantly trying to give me rides.
Sometimes it’s to a “doctor’s appointment” that is actually probation. Other times it’s the behavioral health center. He also regularly offers to drive me home, but I am absolutely not ready to explain why I live in a halfway house.
At all.
I don’t know what I was thinking, but on this particular Saturday, I decided to accept an invitation to his house to “cheer him on” while he changed the oil in his motorcycle. The superintendent and his room mates from work were coming too, so why not?
To be fair, I really did want a ride on the back of the motorcycle.
The entire drive there, I was a nervous wreck.
What am I doing?
And underneath all of that was another thought:
Saturday is Hayley and my night.
Church. Dinner. A meeting.
Our routine.
I shouldn’t be canceling on her for a man.
That should have been my first clue to stay home.
Second clue was I had no intention of staying the night, and they were already talking about drinking. That meant there was absolutely no way I was letting him take me home afterward.
Obvious red flag.
A reasonable person would have changed their mind right then.
I did not.
Everything about this man made me want to throw caution to the wind and ignore every bit of common sense I had worked so hard to develop.
So naturally, I got in the truck.
The drive felt… weird.
He kept calling the superintendent to make sure he was coming.
Then he called him again.
And again.
Maybe he was having second thoughts.
Maybe I was too.
We stopped for random things along the way, including mint leaves for mojitos. Meanwhile, he still had no clue I didn’t drink.
The drive felt like forever.
At some point, we were deep in the town where he was staying, and he suddenly announced that he didn’t recognize where we were.
We had been driving down the same road for at least ten minutes.
How was he just now noticing?
He turned on GPS.
We were still fifteen minutes away and somehow heading in the wrong direction.
What the hell was happening?
We finally pulled into the driveway.
The house was bright yellow.
Not pale yellow. Not beige pretending to be yellow.
Bright yellow.
It was gorgeous inside and exactly the kind of place I would have imagined for him.
He disappeared into the kitchen while I wandered around taking everything in. Floor-to-ceiling sliders stretched across the back of the house, opening to a pool, hot tub, lake, and one of the prettiest sunsets I had seen in a while.
For a moment, I thought maybe I had been overthinking everything.
I kicked off my shoes, settled into a lounge chair, and enjoyed the fresh air.
Then the superintendent arrived.
They asked what I wanted to drink.
“I’m good,” I said.
They laughed.
My boss yelled, “What? Have you been sober for five years or something?”
I laughed nervously.
“Something like that.”
And suddenly… Everything felt weird.
The house had a terrible aura.
I know that sounds ridiculous, but it’s the only way I can describe it.
The beauty of the place had sucked me in at first. Now I felt a sense of impending doom I couldn’t explain.
I couldn’t relax.
I couldn’t make conversation.
Then I saw movement at the screen door.
A woman.
Thankfully, the door was locked.
As I watched her standing there, pieces of the day started falling into place.
The phone calls he took in private all day.
Him disappearing around 2PM without telling me.
That may not sound strange, but trust me, it was.
He took me everywhere with him.
Always.
Then there was the strange detour.
The nervous energy.
The way he kept checking to make sure everyone else was coming.
Standing there, staring at a woman on the other side of that screen door, I realized that maybe this wasn’t as unexpected as he wanted me to believe.
She looked a little unhinged.
With a mix of anger and disgust, she pointed at me and said,
“So you’re Amy.”
Then she looked at my boss.
“I thought nothing was going on.”
Then she looked back at me.
“Amy, I’m his long-time girlfriend. Are you sleeping with him?”
Through a combination of accusations, profanity, and details I never asked for, I pieced together that she believed they were still together and had been told to leave the yellow house earlier that day because someone from corporate was flying in early that night.
Apparently, my presence was proof that she had been lied to.
I don’t remember exactly what she said after that.
I just remember the volume and the anger.
I wanted absolutely no part of whatever this was.
Inside, I was completely panicking.
I don’t do drama.
More importantly, I can’t do drama.
If the police got called or things escalated in any way, I wasn’t just dealing with an awkward evening.
I was dealing with a possible probation violation and ten years back in prison.
Without saying a word, I picked up my shoes, walked back into the house, and slid the glass door shut behind me.
Then I called Hayley completely terrified.
The second she answered, I started talking way too fast.
“I’m so sorry, but you have to come get me. You have to come get me right now.”
She immediately told me to breathe and asked what was wrong.
She told me she would come get me, but gently reminded me that I was almost an hour away.
Then she said something that somehow hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“If you need to leave right now, call a Lyft.”
I hadn’t even thought of that.
By now, everyone was back inside, and the sliding glass doors were locked.
The woman had moved to the front door and was still screaming obscenities.
I walked over to my boss.
“Get me a Lyft right now. I’m leaving.”
He looked disappointed.
Then he told me he didn’t have the app and would have to download it.
I waved him off.
“I don’t have time for that. You can give me the money at work on Monday.”
For a moment, his face lit up.
“So I get to see you Monday? You’re not quitting?”
I shook my head.
“No. I’m not quitting. I can’t. I need this job.”
Then I paused.
“You don’t understand how bad this situation is for me. If the police get called, I am screwed.”
He looked confused.
I wasn’t about to explain probation, halfway houses, and why a random domestic dispute in the middle of nowhere felt like my life was about to end.
Thankfully, there was a Lyft less than ten minutes away.
While I waited, the screaming continued.
Most of it was so vile and degrading that I don’t even want to repeat it.
But one comment got through.
The cyst on the side of my face.
My hair covered it, so most people never noticed it. But it had gotten huge, and I was incredibly self-conscious about it.
I had mentioned it to my boss before because I figured he’d eventually see it.
I just never showed it to him.
Now, standing outside the yellow house from hell, I was being told that he made fun of it behind my back.
My insecurity flared instantly, and I could feel my face turning beet red.
Ouch.
That one stung.
Of all the things she could have said, she somehow found the one thing that would get to me.
She got me with that one.
Eventually, the screaming stopped.
The superintendent had spent what felt like hours but must have only been around 20 minutes trying every tactic he could think of.
First, he explained that my boss didn’t want to see her.
Then he promised there would be a phone call later if she would just leave.
Somehow, it finally worked.
When my Lyft arrived, I asked the superintendent to walk me to the car.
I was not taking any chances.
I climbed into the back seat, shut the door, and let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding all night.
Then I called Hayley.
She was still heading to the 7PM meeting.
I was going to be late.
I was rattled.
But I was going.
I wasn’t going to let anything confuse my priorities.
I walk into the meeting late, but Hayley has a seat saved with a huge bottle of water and a peanut butter Snickers waiting for me.
My heart melts with gratitude.
I love this woman.
I am not okay.
But I will be.
I always am.
That’s how I roll.