Chapter 9
Dealing with a life of prostitution, shallow and fleeting relationships was not an easy task for anyone, and Isabella was feeling the weight of the baggage she had created for herself. Now, with a child in her womb, she had difficult decisions to make. Her thoughts wandered deeply into dark memories.
The former sought-after escort for clients due to her charm and stunning beauty was now succumbing to depression and anguish, sitting in a chair with a container of chocolate ice cream, crying, unsure of which path to take. The stained mirror in the bathroom reflected the image of a woman who, despite her youth, carried the burden of a life that had aged her prematurely. Every line on her face told a story of disappointments and fleeting encounters, leaving the feeling that she was losing pieces of herself with every client who walked through the door.
While the city lights shimmered outside, Isabella remained enclosed in her own internal darkness, day after day. Watching the sun shine and darken only through a crack in her poorly tinted window. Her room was a stage for deep loneliness, where the escort longed to find a lost meaning amid the disconnections of her life.
A phrase spoken in one of the TV series airing, made Isabella wake up to life and regain her will to live, continuing to search for an escape from her uncertain future.
"There are things we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go. The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary."
Criminal Minds
Isa threw the ice cream container into the sink, which was already filled with dirty dishes, tore off her clothes with voracious force, entered the bathroom to wash off all the "stench" that had encrusted on her body for so long without a shower. Her hair no longer had movement due to the oiliness generated by pregnancy hormones mixed with dirt. The young woman took a long and restorative shower. When she looked at herself in the mirror, Isa saw her image in the future and considered what she could do to get there. She needed to do something for herself; there was no one in her life who would do it in her place.
She saw how beautiful, strong, and powerful she was, and with these qualities, she couldn't stay there, mired in sweets, waiting for the days to pass and things to happen in a disorganized manner. She could organize her own life in a clear and intelligent way.
She dressed in an elegant yet comfortable outfit, put on 11-inch high heels, finished her hair with a hairdryer and straightener to look like a model. She applied her wine-red lipstick, left her messy house behind, and went to address her problems.
Isa knew that what she was about to do was madness, but every madness solves any problem, either for worse or for better. Isabella was willing to pay to see. She just needed a solution.
Leaving her house for the nearest bus stop, Isabella spoke to herself. "One day I'll have my car and won't face this difficulty." The stop was 850 meters from the girl's house; she needed to walk, and this made her sweaty. Pregnancy left her fatigued and with excessive sweating.
In the distance, Isa glimpsed a dark cloud covering the sky, announcing a storm. She quickened her pace, but it wasn't solely up to her; she needed the bus to come quickly. Before reaching the stop, the rain caught Isabella, soaking her clothes and disheveling her hair that had been meticulously styled.
The motivating attitude Isa had experienced a few minutes ago had dissipated with each raindrop running down her face. What she felt now was anger and resentment.
“Damn the moment I considered a change in my fate.”
The rain fell incessantly, like tears from the sky reflecting Isabella's internal torment. Alone, she faced the downpour that turned the streets into turbulent rivers, a perfect mirror for the whirlwind of emotions consuming her.
Isabella, with tears mixed with rain on her face, silently cursed the destiny that seemed to have guided her down a dark path. Her conflicted heart echoed the sound of thunder tearing through the sky as she vented words of rebellion in the midst of the storm. It seemed like even the heavens wept for her.
In this moment of vulnerability and despair, a familiar presence emerged from the shadows. A feminine figure, with eyes filled with compassion and a shared past in the darkest corners of Isabella's life, silently approached in her beautiful red car with automatic doors.
— Isabella? Is that you? — the woman lowered the tinted window of her car in front of Isa, sitting on the bus stop bench, on Misery Street, completely drenched by the storm's waters.
It was Paloma, a friend who knew the scars of her dark secrets. Someone who shared the streets with Isabella in moments of rebellion and torment.
— Paloma? — Isabella squinted her eyes to recognize her.
The well-dressed and elegant woman stepped out of the car and extended an umbrella, creating an improvised shelter against the storm.
— Come on, let's get out of this rain. — Paloma opened the car door and ushered Isabella inside.
— Your car is going to get all wet. — Isa hesitated, complaining.
— Tsk! Don't worry about that.
With gentle gestures, Paloma enveloped Isabella in a hug that seemed to carry the promise of redemption. In that moment, in the dance of raindrops, a friendship from a dark past reignited, offering Isabella the hope that even in the darkest storms, the light of friendship could guide her on an uncertain and desired path.
They drove without exactly knowing where they were going, the two women stayed silent for a few minutes, making the moment awkward.
— Where do you need to go? — Paloma started — It doesn't matter; let's have some hot chocolate and catch up, then I'll take you wherever you want. — she concluded, not letting Isa decide.
The distinguished woman who seemed to have succeeded in life stopped at a famous bakery in the city and opened the door of her Volvo for Isabella to step out. Without saying anything, they entered the dazzling bakery. Paloma seemed to be a regular, as she ordered her usual and a hot chocolate for Isabella.
The two stared at each other for a while until the waiter brought their orders.
— It seems you've done well in life! Congratulations. You always said you would. — Isabella managed to say something after warming her lips with the chocolate.
— Tsk! Life is full of surprises, my friend. But what about you? You seemed so distressed at that bus stop. What happened? Besides the torrential rain, of course.
In the illustrious bakery, slowly, customers began to fill the empty spaces. Isabella and Paloma sat in a discreet corner, each lost in their own thoughts. The comforting aroma of freshly baked bread hung in the air, creating a welcoming atmosphere that contrasted with the harshness of their past lives, and a sense of nostalgia reflected in the girls' eyes.
Isabella timidly stirred her cup of hot chocolate, occasionally breaking the silence with heavy sighs. Paloma, with an attentive gaze, noticed her friend's silent agitation. An awkward vacuum began to form between them, making the friendly atmosphere of the bakery almost oppressive.
— Paloma, remember that time we found that abandoned place to spend the night? — Isabella began, trying to dissipate the tension.
— Oh, yes. That place had a horrible smell, but it was better than the hostile environment of our homes. — Paloma replied, attempting to smile, but her eyes betrayed a shared melancholy.
The silence returned, becoming an elephant in the room, a weight that neither of them seemed capable of dispelling. Their gazes crossed and evaded, as if both were dancing around uncomfortable memories.
— Paloma, I... I don't know how to say this, but... — Isabella began, interrupted by the sound of the bakery doorbell, indicating the entrance of new customers.
The moment was shattered, and the awkward vacuum seemed to temporarily dissipate. The two women focused on their drinks, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air, waiting for a more opportune moment to be revealed.
And so, in that corner of the bakery, the story of Isabella and Paloma remained suspended between what was said and what was left for later, in a silent understanding that transcended words.