Bad Boy Judah

f o r t y t w o

3 years later

♠♠♠

The candlelight doesn't seem so romantic when Andrew sits across the table, boasting about himself. I've listened to him go on, since we sat in the restaurant. I don't think I can stand him any longer. Maybe it's best if I just ended this, because it isn't going anywhere.

What was I even thinking? Dating again? Really Rosalie?

"Andrew," I start.

"After, I say to the guy—I'm going to win the position before you."

"Andrew?" I try again.

His brows shoot up and he takes a sip of wine.

"Hm?"

I sigh, "I don't think this is going to work out."

He pauses, but grins.

"What?" he blinks.

"This," I say, shaking my head. "Just isn't going to work out. What you want, isn't what I want. I need somebody a little more... responsible. I mean somebody who wants to settle down—and somebody who can care for Ryder."

A question mark plasters on his face, "Who?"

I suck in my cheeks in annoyance. We've been at this for 4 months and he still forgets.

"My son," I spell.

"Oh, right, right," Andrew waves his hand dismissively and sets down his wine glass. "I mean you could just put that tyke in boarding school or—pff—boot camp, or something."

"See, this is what I'm talking about," I snap.

I lift to my feet and throw the napkin on the table, not caring about finishing my dinner.

"Ah, Rosalie! I was kidding. Come on."

"Yet you say that same joke over and over," I say, grabbing my purse and leaving money to pay for my food. "Goodbye, Andrew."

He follows me outside, even though I made myself clear. I stand on the curb and call a taxi over. Rosalie, what were you expecting? That he'd willingly be a father figure for Ryder? Or anyone else for that matter? All the guys you've dated were the same—egotistical, party animals, and hate children.

"Come on," he whines, dropping his hands to his sides. "Can't we talk this through?"

"No, Andrew. You've shown zero interest in Ryder, which was really what I was hoping you'd do."

Every time he's met Ryder, he's been indifferent.

He rolls his eyes, "I didn't sign up to be a babysitter."

"I told you since day 1 that I have a kid!" I snap, "But never mind now. I'm going."

"Whatever," he turns around, "I don't need this."

The cab comes and I hop right in it, trying not to feel hurt. I tell the driver my address and he begins the meter.

I stare out the window, looking at some familiar buildings.

I had to come back after two years, because there were no jobs for me in my hometown.

There was absolutely nothing.

Plus, living in group homes for single mothers wasn't secure for me. I don't know whether I regret coming back here...

When I reconnected with Mara, she said she was giving up her waitress job, because she got an opportunity to be a flight attendant again. She told me to come back to town and take the waitress job.