Chapter 2

Allison

Houston, Texas

The ash blonde 25 year old steered the grocery cart past the candy and cookie aisle and toward the fresh vegetables. Her cheerleader fresh face and trim figure was testament to a regimen of diet and exercise which she followed religiously.

Allison Reagan was intent on keeping her attention on the shopping list in one hand as she pushed the somewhat reluctant cart with the other.

Suddenly as she neared the end of the aisle another cart suddenly appeared and the two clattered together noisily.

“I’m terribly sorry. Are you all right?” came the voice from the other cart.

“Oh, no, it’s my fault really I...” she started, but in mid sentence lost her voice as her eyes met those of the smiling stranger.

“I’m Dan,” he said backing his cart away and offering his hand.

“ ... Allison,” she almost sputtered, so taken with him all thoughts of shopping, fixing dinner and a promised movie dissolving instantly.

“I want you to know that I don’t make it a habit of going around smashing my cart into the carts of beautiful women ... although in this case I think I would certainly make an exception,” he said smiling.

Although she still received her fair share of compliments, Allison was completely caught off guard and actually blushed.

“I ... that is ... thank you ... Dan.”

“As my way of apology could I offer you a cup of coffee? There’s a little cafe just down the street,” He offered.

Still infatuated with the man, she nevertheless shook herself back to reality holding up her left hand and showing him the ring.

“Thank you but as you can see I’m married and...”

“Wait,” he interrupted, “It wasn’t an invitation to run off to Acapulco with me, just a cup of coffee. I don’t bite, I promise.”

She laughed, still intending to politely refuse.

“I ... I ... couldn’t”

“Oh, I think you can,” he replied, his smile still captivating her. “You see I’m a very good listener and observer and looking into those lovely blue eyes of yours I see you’re troubled.”

She almost gasped.

“Uh ... What do you mean?”

“As beautiful as you are, Allison, I can read sorrow in those eyes. A sorrow that runs deeply.”

“No, you’re wrong. I’m very happy,” she replied, but there was no conviction in her voice.

“Please,” he invited with a sincere smile and those enticing eyes, “just a cup of coffee.”

“I ... I think you’re mistaken. I’m a happily married woman,” she said as they sat sipping mugs of java outside the small cafe.

“Oh, I can sense your sorrow is not with your husband. As a matter of fact you seem to be devoted to him. No, the sorrow you feel is with your marriage, but not with him. Hmmmm, could it be because you have no children?”