I could hear my mom’s voice in my head: “People tell you who they are, honey. Believe them.” Well, Aaron had just told me who he was — a man with an ego big enough to turn dating into a game show.
Nope. I wasn’t about to play.
I waved the waiter over, pulled out my card, and paid the bill for both of us.
Yes, I know I shouldn’t have paid for him, too, but at the time it felt like a power move and I’m petty. I grabbed my purse and the rose and left. I walked to my car, the cold night air biting at my skin, but I didn’t feel it.
I felt clear-headed.
No “what ifs,” no “maybe I’m being too harsh.” I’d seen the flag. It was red. I wasn’t colorblind.
I climbed into my car, tossing the rose onto the passenger seat like it was just another piece of clutter.
As I reached for the ignition, my phone buzzed.
Aaron.
I hesitated, then opened the message: “Wow, I love a woman who takes initiative and isn’t a gold digger. Paying the bill? That’s impressive.
You’ve definitely earned the next rose.”
I threw my head back and laughed. The kind of wild, ugly laugh that shakes your whole body.
He thought he was the prize.
I didn’t reply. No witty comeback.
No “well, actually…” speech. I just blocked his number, deleted our chat, and drove away.
I’d spent years trying to find my perfect match, but that night, I realized something. Sometimes, the win isn’t finding the right person.
Instead, it’s walking away from the wrong one.
Source: amomama
