On The Edge

Chapter 1

I was on my way home from the restaurant I met Oliver, my brother after

work, feeling a little agitated and confused from a meeting we had with

a company we are attempting to purchase, my mind was all over the place.

I have been single my whole life. I am successful and I want for

nothing. I can get any woman I want, but lately I keep thinking how it

would be nice to go home to a beautiful wife and maybe a child.

I know I have so much more that I can offer, but with my reputation as

this rich playboy that has a different woman on my arm and in my bed

every night, it don't help in finding a good girl.

Quite frankly, the woman I pick up on rare occasion are not exactly the

kind you take home to meet the parents. I don't always see the need for

a woman, but when I need that release, I will go to the clubs and get

what I need for the night. Contrary to what the media says I live a relatively

quiet and unsocial life. I only have the company of a beautiful woman

when I want one. 

I guess I wouldn't mind meeting the one woman that could possibly fill

my lonely life, someone to share my dreams with. Even though I have

the company of some extraordinary woman at my beck and call, I am still

lonely at night. Most of the woman I bed only want what I have to offer

in between the sheets and what is in my wallet.

I don't stay over night with any woman, and I never bring them to my

home.

Not one woman I have ever slept with has seen the inside of my

apartment.

Still the idea of a wife standing in the kitchen cooking me dinner when

I get home from a long day at the office would be nice.

I have the thoughts of my future with a beautiful wife running through

my head, all thanks to my mother and her constant reminding of how

I am not getting any younger and need to find a good girl and settle down.

That's when I saw her.

She was hanging off the side of the 9th street bridge. I wasn't sure what

was going on at first, or what I was seeing, but I had to stop. The sight of

any woman hanging on the side of a bridge can't be good.

When I stopped my car, the headlights caught her beautiful face. There

were tears falling down her cheeks incessantly. The pain written all over

her beautiful face.

My heart almost felt like it had stopped beating, whether it was from the

the sight of her hanging off the bridge or the sheer beauty of her face.

I got out of my car, approaching her slowly not to frighten her. That was