Bad Boy Judah

f o r t y e i g h t

"He'll be fine," the doctor ends.

Although the wait was long, I sigh a breath of absolute relief. He then explains to me that little Ryder should limit physical activity and running for the time being, while Judah helps him get dressed. I nod at the doctor, as my eyes glance at Judah zipping a half-awoken Ryder in his puffy jacket. Running is all Ryder does.

"And what about his apnea?" I rub my forehead and ask.

"We'll have to keep watching," he answers.

"Thank you, doctor," I say, as he heads out the room.

I grab our things, before they get left behind. In new familiarity, little Ryder snuggles into Judah's steady arms. My hand holds the door open, as Judah walks through. We step outside the hospital in our own quiet thoughts. Judah walks ahead, leading the way to his car.

I guess we're going to his place. I'm not even going to try arguing. I'm sure he's made the decision for the both of us.

He stayed the whole night. What do I make of that? He didn't catch his flight. Are things different?

I still have his expensive coat around me. Despite everything, chills run down my back.

No, nothing's changed.

He's still a liar-just in a nicer attire.

We don't share a single word during the ride.

♠♠♠

I stay downstairs, as Judah tucks Ryder in bed upstairs. I pull a hanger from its closet and rest Judah's coat there. I've got so much going on in my mind. Swallowing the awful taste in my mouth is difficult.

Yesterday's nightmare hits my mind repeatedly, until Judah returns.

I watch him swing his long legs towards the kitchen.

"Need something to drink?" he offers, pulling out a dark red wine bottle and wine glasses.

I take a seat on the sofa by the noiseless living room.

"You might need it," I sigh in critique of his choice of word, rubbing my hands against my jeans.

Judah rests next to me and pours. He doesn't stop until the glass is full. It's impossible to look away.

He says with a raised brow, "I always need a drink."

I wonder whether he's an alcoholic now or just making jokes. I wonder about the things I don't know about him.

I just take the glass, wanting to shut up my thoughts.

"Thanks."

He pauses, before getting a chance to taste the expense of his wine.

"Don't. It's cheap."

My mouth stays ajar, "I'm talking about Ryder. For being there..."

His lips hit the glass and the drink disappears with every gulp he takes.

Then, I watch him set his glass down on the end table.

"That's something I'm supposed to do," he says, shaking his head at my gratitude.

"Then why haven't you... three years ago?"

I didn't want to let those words free. But they've reached his ears. Now, we must talk about it. All of it.

Judah's hand pushes his hair away from his forehead.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," his voice plummets.