CHAPTER 5
1057 Words
Isabella was settled into a cozy corner of the coffee shop. She was a slim blonde with piercing blue eyes and a beautiful face who typically worked diligently behind the counter of the cozy coffee shop. But today was different
She had been given the day off by her boss yesterday to rest but decided to come into the coffee shop to take a break from the problems of her home.
As Benjamin and Michael wrapped up their conversation and prepared to leave, she saw her chance to secure a vacant seat closer to the window.
In her haste to claim the empty spot, the contents of her coffee cup splashed onto Benjamin, staining his shirt. She looked up, her eyes meeting those of two tall, handsome men standing before her. Panic surged through her as she muttered quickly, "I'm sorry."
Benjamin's reaction was anything but subtle. He yelped loudly, while Michael simply burst into laughter. Frustration welled up in Benjamin, and he snapped, "Look where you're going!" Isabella apologized once again, her embarrassment evident.
Benjamin's response was stern. "Would sorry fix this?" he retorted, casting her a severe look. Michael, sensing the tension building, tried to intervene, reassuring Benjamin, "Hey man, relax. It's fine."
Isabella, confronted by the stern and irate man in front of her, responded with a hint of sarcasm, " Pull your shirt then and let me wash it since you're acting like a child now" Michael couldn't help but burst into uproarious laughter, further adding to the awkwardness.
Seeing Michael's reaction, Benjamin shot him an incredulous look. Isabella didn't appear to be fazed by the situation again. Instead, she walked and headed to the counter, and saw some of the coworkers laughing, with a scorned look she grabbed a towel and headed back.
Approaching Benjamin and Michael, determined to help clean Benjamin's shirt. He questioned her intentions, to which Isabella replied, I'm trying to clean your shirt", She then turned to Michael, wearing a smirk, and quipped, "Is your friend this clueless ?"
Benjamin, finally taking matters into his own hands, grabbed the towel from her and declared, "I don't need your filthy hands on me," his tone dripping with contempt, and headed toward the bathroom.
Isabella nonchalantly replied, "Suit yourself and hissed loudly," as she walked away to the counter to order another one. Under her breath, she mumbled "Such an arrogant man."
As she approached the counter, she noticed some of her colleagues were making a mockery of what had just happened. She took her newly prepared espresso which is her favorite and went to sit down in the same corner where she had hurriedly claimed a seat earlier.
As she looked outside the window, this was not the day off she was expecting, as she slowly took sips of her drink. A sudden deep voice interrupted her, and she looked up to see Michael.
With a frown on her face, Isabella responded coldly, "Yes, how can I help you now?"
Michael, unsure of what to say, cleared his throat and replied, "I'm Michael. "We met earlier".
Isabella gave him a serious look, her eyes narrowing, and responded, "Okay" Her tone indicated she was not in the mood to entertain him.
Michael took a seat across from her, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he said, "I apologize for my friend's behavior. I know….
"I don't need it," Isabella shot back, cutting him off before he could complete his statement. She continued sipping her coffee and faced the window, avoiding any form of facial interaction.
Michael, seeing that Isabella was giving him a hard time, reluctantly stood up and said, "You're quite stubborn," and left to wait for Benjamin.
Isabella didn't mind what Michael said and continued drinking her coffee.
After what seemed like an eternity, Benjamin finally emerged from the bathroom, much to the relief of Michael. Michael greeted him with a light frown and a hint of impatience, "Finally, you're out. Took you a while to scrub some stains out."
Benjamin, seemingly unfazed by Michael's comment, simply chuckled and gave his friend a playful pat on the back. The two of them headed for the door.
Isabella, who had been silently observing this interaction, couldn't help but let out a deep sigh of relief as she watched the two tall men make their way out of the café. "Finally, some peace," she thought to herself. It was all she had yearned for from the moment she entered the café, and she hoped with all her heart that this would be the last time she'd ever encounter those two men.
As Michael and Benjamin made their way toward their respective cars, Michael couldn't resist bringing up the recent encounter, a bemused expression on his face. He commented, "That was one hell of a reaction, don't you think?"
Benjamin, not entirely sure what Michael was referring to, furrowed his brow and replied, "What reaction? She wasn't even sorry."
Michael raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his face. "Oh, really?" he retorted.
Benjamin, his thoughts elsewhere, sighed and said, "I have a lot of things going on; this is the least of my problems right now."
With a nod, Michael conceded, "Alright, Ben. We'll catch up another time. I'll text you when I get home, probably head to the club from here."
Benjamin, knowing his friend all too well, chuckled and remarked, "Typical you." With that, they both got into their respective cars and drove off to their destinations.
The night had fallen quickly, Isabella found herself reluctant to leave the coffee shop. She hesitated for a moment as she bundled up in her coat and wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck. With a deep sigh, she finally pushed the cafe's door open, but just as she stepped outside, her phone rang.
It was a familiar voice on the other end, her sister, urgently asking, "Izzie, where are you? It's Mom again." The words struck Isabella like a bolt of lightning, and her heart pounded in her chest.
In a split second, she ended the call and began running as fast as she could down the silent street. Each racing step echoed behind her praying that her Mom was okay.
"I should never have left home " she mumbled underneath her breath as she fastened her pace.
- Writer
