“I don’t do threesomes, thank you very much.” Kelly snorted. She earned a lighthearted punch to the arm from a shocked Aria. “He wants you, period.”
“Whatever,” Aria said. “Anyway, enough about Reece, I met the new barista a couple of minutes ago. She asked me to join her for coffee.”
Kelly’s brow arched while a mischief grin curved her lips. “See. I told you, the woman’s into you.”
“I’ll be sure to set her straight.” She laughed at her pun. “I’m curious about her. She’s from South Africa.”
“Really?”
Aria nodded. “I’ll pick up Prisha on my way back.”
“No, don’t worry about her. The girls have discovered a new art form and are working on it together.” Kelly grinned. “I’ll drop her off.”
“You sure?”
“Uh-huh.”
After a quick hug, she kissed her friend goodbye, entered the coffee shop, and slid into the seat opposite Rowena.
“I’ve only been here two weeks, so I don’t have many friends,” Rowena began a trifle stilted. She gently pushed a cup of black coffee in front of Aria. “I’m hoping to make some new ones. Sorry if I came across a bit forward and coerced you into this drink?”
Aria waved off the suggestion with a laugh. “It’s okay. I understand. When I arrived here, I also found the newness a little intimidating. Thanks for the coffee.”
“I’ve never visited parts of my own country, and here I am halfway across the globe with not a clue on how to begin a new life.” Rowena sat back in her seat with another laugh.
“What made you leave South Africa?” Aria took a sip of her coffee.
Her gaze fixed on something outside the window, Rowena appeared lost in thought. Aria took a moment to study the other woman. Bright green eyes framed by shoulder-length curly dark hair gave the impression of a young woman in her early twenties. Close up, the fine lines on either side of her eyes and mouth, put her close to Aria’s age, if not older.
“I ran away from my abusive husband.” Her unexpected confession startled Aria out of her scrutiny.
“Sorry?”
Rowena exhaled on a loud sigh. She folded her arms on the table. “When I married my husband ten years ago, I thought my life with my prince charming was all set. A year later, I discovered differently. He came home drunk one evening, and I made the mistake of questioning him. I found myself the equivalent of a punching bag.”
Inwardly, Aria winced. The uncanny resemblance to her own married life made her cringe. She, however, had no intention of sharing the gory details of her previous life. Aware of the similarity, sympathy for the other woman clenched her heart. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”
The other woman shrugged. “I learned to live with the hope it would get better. That never happened. I finally woke up one day and faced reality. I had to do something with my life, or I’d die quicker than I hoped to age. So, I made a plan and got out.”
As she spoke, Aria thought of her marriage and the pain she’d suffered at the hands of her husband. Without thinking, she said, “No matter how the music changes, you have to keep dancing.”
“Huh?”
“It’s something my mom always told me.” She sipped her coffee, recalling her mother’s words with a smile. “As women, we need to learn to put ourselves first. We never do. When we’re young, we live in accordance to the dictates of our families. Then we marry, and our husbands take preference. And before we’ve had a chance to enjoy married life, the kids come and take over our entire existence. Between work, a husband, and children, women forget to live. As if that isn’t enough for women to learn to juggle, you get those unfortunate ones who end up with abusive husbands, and we forget to breathe...” she trailed off as the air caught in her throat.
“You left an abusive husband as well?”
“What?” Aria blinked in confusion for a moment then laughed. God, she almost blurted out a little more than she was willing to share. She inhaled sharply and prayed the other woman missed her blunder. “No. No, I’ve seen friends go through it. It’s not pretty. What my mom meant was, no matter what life throws at you, as a woman, you instinctively learn to deal with it. Hence, we dance to the beat of our own tune. You’ll learn how to build a new life. I can’t promise an easy ride, but it’s doable.” Her words were emphatic because she’d faced the same music and related well.
“Do you have children, Aria?”
“Yes.”
The other woman took a moment to sip her coffee. “I always wanted children. A little girl I’d sing to at night and play dolls with.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she glanced away. “Brush her hair, and as she grew talk about boys and fun girl things, only a mother and daughter shared.” Rowena sniffed then looked at Aria. “My husband insisted I stay at home. No work, no children. His playboy image was important. He had no time for kids and made sure I stuck to the contraceptive routine. Escaping my past wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. With two restraining orders, the man still managed to put me in hospital. Third time lucky.” She laughed, yet there was no genuine mirth. Who could blame her?
Aria reached across the table and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.” She understood Rowena’s pain. Prisha was the only reason Aria would relive the nightmare with Jay. Over the next hour, Aria got to know Rowena and warmed up to the other woman.
