The rain fell in sheets outside of the coffee shop I was sitting in, and all I could think about was how I didn’t have an umbrella with me. I hoped it let up soon before I finished my coffee. It pelted and sprayed the windows, and watching as it came down mirrored and reflected the way I felt inside.

I exhaled sharply and thought about how I might snap if this day got any worse. I stared down at the coffee in my mug as I sat alone in my booth. I liked my coffee black, and I needed this caffeine just as much as I needed my hands that were holding the cup.

I looked back out the window and saw a woman trying to jump through the rising puddles in six-inch heels. “Good luck, lady,” I murmured under my breath, secretly feeling a guilty pleasure about how someone else’s day wasn’t going as planned either. Suddenly, I cringed as my mind played a cruel trick on me—by making me think about how my father had yelled at me just recently.

I was what some people might call an ‘emotional cutter,’ not being able to stay away from beating myself into the ground on a regular basis. I was worn out mentally and physically. Something needed to change for me, and fast.

The universe has bullied me the past two years, and I wouldn’t be the first to admit that it’s been rough. Part of that problem though, is how much my family loved to rub my face in it.

“When are you going to grow up, Cindy? You’re twenty-four years old and you aren’t getting any younger. You need to stop with the pity party, pick yourself up and start over.” My father’s words lashed in my brain and stung like a whip, no matter if they were true or not.

I had left my boyfriend, Todd, two years ago, but the emptiness still lingered and so did the struggle to make ends meet alone. The last straw had been when I had come home one evening to find Todd laid out on the couch with a beer in his hand. He had hit me before, but this time it was different. I had decided to surprise him with takeout burgers from his favorite restaurant.

I’ll never forget the blow to my cheek and the searing pain I felt as he struck me. There had been other times where he had shoved me or shook me but he had never hit me this hard. He had later told me the reason he had hit me was that I wasn’t to go out and buy food without his permission. I had laid on the cold tile bathroom floor and wept silently.

I remember feeling so low and helpless. I didn’t want to feel like his prisoner anymore, and I was tired of looking over my shoulder and walking on eggshells with everything I said or did. I had decided to leave him and plunged out into the world on my own. My parents had chastised me the entire time, telling me if I had a better personality or knew how to take care of a man, I wouldn’t have gotten myself into this position in the first place.

So, I had spent many nights laying in the fetal position on my bed over the past two years racking my brain on how to make ends meet at my dead-end secretarial job. Now, the icing on the cake was that the company I had been working for, had gone under, and for the second time in two years, I was out on my feet.

I finished my coffee and rubbed my eyes, ran my hands through my long brown hair. One good thing I had going for me was my looks. I was taller than most women, with long slender legs.

My hair was my best feature; it was silky and smooth and had a natural bounce to it that made my friends jealous. Even though I looked good on the outside, I struggled to feel decent on the inside.

The rain had subsided to a slight drizzle, and I decided to make a break for it back to my apartment before the bottom fell out again. The sky was still dark and I didn’t want to take any chances without the protection of an umbrella. Once I got back to my apartment building, I walked up the stairs and my heart leaped into my throat when I saw what was taped to the middle of my front door.

I walked slowly toward it and felt as if my lungs might collapse. It was a neon orange slip of paper, but I knew what it was without even having to read it. I ripped it off the door and struggled to focus my eyes on it. “Eviction Notice,” was sprawled across the paper in huge black letters.

I looked around to see if any of my neighbors were walking down the corridor and felt the sting of humiliation overcome me. Tears blurred my eyes and fell down my cheeks.

I walked inside and without even waiting to compose myself, I dialed my sister Melinda’s number. She was three years older than me and I turned to her for support when I was desperate. She picked up on the third ring. I was surprised she answered at all because she was under the watchful eye of her controlling husband. She was also bound to the two young children they had together, my niece and nephew who were three and five.

“Hello,” Melinda breathed into the phone, sounding exasperated.

“You’ve got to help me, Mel,” I sobbed into the phone, unable to contain or control my emotions.

“Cindy? What’s wrong? Where are you?” Melinda’s voice changed to concern, and I knew my big sister had a genuine love for me and wanted to help me any chance she could. That’s what big sisters were for, and she certainly played the part well when she was able to.

“I’m at home. I just got an eviction notice. I don’t know what to do.” I wiped my eyes and my nose and slowly crawled onto my couch, looking up at the ceiling.

“Eviction notice? Oh Cindy, how did this happen? Is it because you lost your job?”

“Yes, I need help. I know mom and dad will be useless.” I shut my eyes tight, not knowing what else to say, and praying Melinda had an answer.

“I want to help you, Cindy, I really do. I have to talk to Mark though. I’m not sure he’s going to be up for it. You can stay here if it’s your absolute last resort.” She trailed off and I knew it was her roundabout way of saying it was probably a brick wall that her husband was not going to budge on. I could never figure out why he didn’t like me, but it seemed to be the trend among everyone I met. I was the Charlie Brown black sheep of my family, and everyone I crossed paths with.

“I will sleep on it and try to figure something out. Thanks, sis,” I smiled and hoped Melinda could feel it through the phone. She always had a warm aura around her. I hated the fact that she was so entrapped by her hateful husband.

When we hung up, I walked over to the counter where I had thrown my keys and my mail. I thumbed through everything, chucking most of it into the trash. There was something else there that caught my eye, and I held onto it to study what it was.

My name was on the front of the envelope. It read: “To Cindy Jameson: out of this world offer!” The advert nearly jumped out at me. It was an application for a mail-order bride. “Send in your application to Celestial Mates for a chance to live financially free for a lifetime.” The ad said that anyone who applied would be automatically chosen as a bride, and would get to live on a resort style island where all their worries would be cast aside—their hopes and dreams discovered.

I thought that maybe it was too good to be true, but weighing my choices, I really had no other option to lean on besides this. Having this advert come in my mail seemed like a stroke of luck for me, a way to shift gears and get a second shot to turn my life around. How hard could life be on an island? Surely better than what I was living here, under this metaphorical constant rain cloud. I didn’t hesitate to send in the application and waited to see if I would be chosen as someone’s bride. I narrowed in on how it could change my life and how maybe I could find true love. I hoped the man would be handsome and kind.

A few days later, I got a call from the Celestial Mates Agency, telling me I had been chosen by a male who was interested in making me his bride. I would be given a certain amount of money for traveling, and once I got to the island I would meet him and he would take me back to where he lived, so we could start our life together. Shoving my nerves to the back of my mind, I politely accepted the offer and then shrieked once I hung up. I immediately called Melinda to tell her my plan.

“Hey Sis, guess what?” I nearly exclaimed into the phone. “I won’t have to sleep on your couch, after all. I got an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Really?” My sister sounded instantly relieved to hear the news. I tried not to feel too offended because I knew that if Melinda had a say in whether or not I could come live with her she would have said yes in a heartbeat—if only to keep me off the streets.

“Yes! I’m going to be a mail-order bride. The people from Celestial Mates called me to tell me the good news. I leave tomorrow!”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, what if something happens? What if it’s not what you thought? I want you to be safe.”

“Yes, I have the option to come home if it doesn’t work out. I knew I wouldn’t be welcome to stay with you and would stick out like a sore thumb. I’m letting you off the hook, Mel. I’ll keep in touch, okay?” I was grateful she was concerned for me but knew I had to grab life by the horns to stay afloat.

“Okay, well you know you can always come stay with us if it doesn’t work out, Cindy. I can at least make you that promise after you’ve tried.”

“Thanks, Mel. You’re the best and I mean it. I’ll call you as soon as I get there tomorrow.” I hung up the phone and plopped my head down on my pillow, grinning from ear to ear. I knew I needed to get some rest, but I was a million miles from sleep right now. I had enough adrenaline running through my veins to power a race car I was sure of it. At long last, my eyes gradually become so heavy I had to close them. I fell asleep dreaming of a better life and a husband who would want nothing more than to take care of me.