She sipped her coffee and starred out the coffee shop window at the rain as though the sky was crying for her. Her name was Isabella, and she was beautiful. She sat with her head resting on her hand, not moving, as her coffee became cold. Isabella’s eyes were striking; green with a tint of hazel. It was heartbreaking for anyone to look at her when she seemed so wounded. Being a women of beauty and success, she had everything she could ever want; the prosperous and handsome husband, the perfect children, and the dream job. What could be so troubling to put her in this dismay?
Earlier that week, after driving her kids to school, she made a point to run some errands. She got to work, dealt with some intolerable clients, and went back to her desk to take a breather. She checked her email, poured a fresh cup of coffee, and began some paper work. This was the usual routine for Isabella, and she loved it.
A co-worker that she had been working on her quarterly reports with had invited her out to lunch that day to discuss some numbers. His name was Jim, an “average joe”, but had something mysterious about him that most women found intriguing. They went to a tiny bistro a few blocks away and ordered two sandwiches and two sodas, and began to develop their report. They stayed at this bistro for quite some time. The discussion went from numbers on the report to phone numbers in their phones. Her husband was on a business trip that night, and the kids were at their friend’s house, leaving her the house to herself.
Isabella knew what she was getting her self into. With each stroke of mascara came another reason not to go. She put on a red dress that hugged her hips and threw up her hair to flaunt the bone structure of her face. She tidied up the house, and lit some candles. She was more nervous at that moment then when she had given birth to her kids. Then that’s when it hit her: her kids. Isabella and her husband had been having problems lately with their marriage, and thoughts of divorce had been spoken. The only thing holding her back was her two kids; the two perfect reasons to wake up in the morning, they are her reason for everything she does.
The front door bell of her house rang. Isabella took a moment to pause and make a choice on where she wanted this night to go. She walked to the door, and opened it slowly to see Jim standing there with a bottle of wine. She opened the door even more so he could step inside. She took a deep breathe and closed the door.