Forty Nine

Isabella

I take a taxi to Rita's because I left my car there. I find her drowsy from sleep.

"You are back home soon," she says sarcastically. I storm past her and throw myself in one of the chairs.

"What happened, Isabella? What has he done?" she asks, following me after closing the door. She looks sincerely concerned about me this time.

"He's such a possessive asshole and I hate it," I mutter, and shut up immediately before I spill out more than I intended to.

"They all are sweetheart. Born of the same womb it's just standards that differentiate them. What has he done?"

I suck in a deep breath and for an insane moment, I admire Rita's life; her independence, her courage, and the fact that I have never seen her weeping for a dick.

"He wants to take me back," I respond.

"Why, isn't that a good thing? You want to be with him, right?" she looks at me with utter perplexity.