The cool, fresh air of Washington hit my face, causing a small shiver down my spine. I watch as the small children around me, running after the others with their tiny water guns. Parents of them all smile in glee while their eyes are trained on their child as they see the happiness shining in their eyes.

Lately, everything had seemed that way. The world was more bubblier, happier, and merrier. It is great, but something seemed completely off. I didn't know what it was, but I had told my thoughts to focus on the present. The future is not set, and I had the time for that later. It was the now, and now, everything looks appreciable.

I currently am sitting on a white, wood chipped bench. It is terrible to sit on because of the wood sticking into my bottom, but it seems worth it. Watching the children having so much fun is entertaining, especially when one little girl named Sally accidentally threw her water gun at a little boy named James.

To say Sally's face was priceless was an understatement, but it was absolutely in shock. And after seeing her cry because of the small red mark on James's head, it was slightly depressing. James had misinterpreted the whole situation, understanding that it was another boy rather than Sally. It was all such a dramatic situation, but they both managed to figure it out with the help of their parents.

But then, there is my little girl.

The light, the heart, the little soul of my life. Rosemary Melanie Smithson was born on the thirtieth of January, two thousand and thirteen. I had always thought it was such a special day, and it is. She seemed to come into the wrong time, but it actually was the most amazing moment of my life, when her little face was introduced into this disastrous world. I had adapted to the world of doing everything by myself, and without him, my life as well as Rosemary's is so much better.

Jonathan had changed. My ex-boyfriend, my first love, my first everything was gone. He had disappeared just like my mother did when she drove all the way to California and never came back. His mood was different as well as himself overall.

And then, he left once he found out I was having Rosemary.

It honestly broke my heart. Jonathan was my rock, or that was what I had thought when I was twenty one. But, I guess that is how I knew it was the beginning to the end. His smiles weren't sincere, and his eyes did not glow when I said his name. Jonathan didn't want to hold my hand, when Jesus that's all I ever wanted. I guess it ended way before you called me at 12:00 a.m. and telling me that he didn't love me anymore.

God, how much that broke me.

And what made me even more mad was that the father of my child had left. He didn't dare to stay because just finding out that I was pregnant drove him away. But, I know understand that as we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't ever supposed to let us down, probably will. You'll have your heart broken and you will do the same to others. I guess you just have to live life to the fullest and not worry about everything else that is gone, because there is a chance that they will never come back. And I do not want to keep waiting for someone that most likely will never be coming back into my life, nor Rosemary's.

This has taught me how to secure my heart. To not throw it to the person who was the first bidder. Because if anything, my heart is heavy and it's tired. I think that this time, if there is a next time, I will be more careful. I'll look at damn resumes and zodiac signs. Even though I'll be careful, the next time I love, it will be pure and real. The next time, my heart will be happy and they will give me kisses on my forehead that are everlasting. The next time I love, it won't be like the last time.

Every time I look at Rosemary, she reminds me so much of him. Her small chestnut curls frame her face perfectly, just like Jonathan's at the ends. Her little small, flat nose was just as similar as his, as well as his blue eyes. Rosemary didn't get my dull, brown ones, but inherited his ocean eyes. They are absolutely beautiful, breathtaking, but everything absolutely changes when I look into them.

She is apart of this park group, too. Rosemary is chasing a little boy with her water gun, and God knows where she got that from. We both had happened to be walking into the park, when all of a sudden, we both were sprayed with a small sheet of water.

And Rosemary had then declared war.

I sit back, watching her on this old, wooden bench. It isn't creepy because happiness coursed through my veins when I see her making new friends. Even though Rose is only three, she has been a very quiet child in her life. And from seeing that, I noticed she had inherited the shyness and independence from me.

"Rosemary!" I yell across from the small field, laughing as I watched her pour all the water from her water gun onto the boy's head. "Don't do that!" I have to admit, it is quite funny to see her face and her actions, but as I see the brunette boy's lip tremble, it worries me.

Quickly walking over to the two children, I bite my lip harshly to try and contain my laughter. Rosemary's face is full of shock, and I know that she is thinking I will probably scold her. In all honesty, I don't know what I am going to say, but I will probably find the parent of the child and apologize. The boy's clothes are literally soaked, and my thoughts are starting to wander on how a medium size water gun can do that to a three-year-old boy.

"We don't pour water on our friends, baby." Bending down to reach their height, I quirk my eyebrow up at her, noticing her blue eyes full of sadness. It was either fake sadness or real, because Rosemary had the tendency to trick me with her feelings.

"Sorry, mommy." She speaks softly, turning to look at the wet boy beside her. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

"It's okay," his high-pitched voice slightly yells, making my ears start to close. God, he was so loud.

Unbelievable. I would have thought the small boy would yell or scream at Rosemary, but life is full of surprises. The children I had been around had the tendency to scream or cry wildly at you when something terrible had happened. Of course, that was not very many children, considering I was an only child and moved all the time.

"C'mon Rose, we've got to-"

And then, the bitch throws the water gun at my daughter.

"You little fucker. I'm going to find your damn parents and you're going to be in deep shit, you little-"

I need to calm down. This is a young child, and he only threw a medium-size water gun at my daughter. If this kid was a teenager, I would beat his ass, but he is not. Profanities had already came out of my mouth and slipped, in front of my daughter! What are you thinking, Sage?

"Ah! She said bad words," the boy yells loudly, making me groan. Turning to look at Rosemary, I notice that she has not realized what has come out of my mouth, but is rubbing her small head. He hit her in the head with a water gun.

"Excuse me," a deep voice scares the hell out of me from behind, making me jump in fright. Great, more people.

As I grab Rosemary's small body and lift her into my arms, I stand up and turn around to the voice. And holy fucking shit, my eyes are blinded. Now, this might be the moment when I pass out from flawlessness, but no. This is not like the movies, even though this guy was very attractive. I would not look at the hotness, I will not look at the very sexy man.

"Yes?" I question, looking at Rose's scared look and ignoring the stare of the man. Her blue eyes were radiating off of the sun, making them look ever so brighter. My thumb begins to rub on her chubby side in reassurance.

"Your child just dumped the water from her little water gun on my nephew, I believe." His deep voice brings me out of my daughter's eyes, and I can not help but look at the man.

The first thing I had notice is the brown hat atop his head. From what I had learned in the hat fashion, a fedora is on top of his chocolate curls. Yes, this boy has curls. In my town, I had never met anyone with hair as curly as this boy in front of me. Next is the cross pendent laying lazily across his plain grey shirt. Black ink is sprawled onto his arms and imprinted into them as I analyze each one. The tattoo that I notice immediately is the large heart on his left forearm. Beautifully drawn it is, but I suddenly remember how my mother had told me it ruins your skin. Yes, she was such a critical mother, but I absolutely disagreed with her on many terms.

And as I scan lower, I really try not to look at the bulge, I really do. But holy shit, he is big, and I am pretty sure he does not have a boner.

My thoughts wander off to if those light grey jeans are suffocating his legs and manliness, literally. The jeans I am wearing now are nowhere near close to that tight, and I usually wear some damn tight jeans. His large, veiny hands are covered in rings. Only both middle fingers as well as the finger beside it on his right hand are in large rings. I am never a ring wearer, except the one on my pointer finger. It lies as the top of mine as always, and is a remembrance of my mother, it always has been.

Lastly is the chocolate boots on his feet. I have never seen any feet in my life that are as big as his. Boots are a little over the top for my fashion, but everyone is different. It does match though, his boots with is hair, and I do admire his fashion sense a small bit.

"Yours threw a water gun at my daughter's head." I remark, finally bringing my eyes out of my thoughts. "Now, it is a bit fair, so there is no need throw a fit. You should actually be worried about your son's violence."

"Nephew," chocolate head corrects me and looks at his nephew. "And actually, your daughter needs to worry about her rudeness. My nephew did nothing wrong, except an act of revenge."

He is British. That immediately overwhelms me, wondering what the hell this guy was doing in the town of Seattle. It is nowhere except for loners in my opinion. People around me that I had previously met were always looking for something; their lovers, themselves, or trying to find a lifestyle. I, for one, do not really know what I am doing in Seattle, besides moving and traveling with Rosemary. It is an experience with it all, but after Jonathan left, I moved everywhere and changed.

"An act of revenge is absolutely childish, literally and figuratively. But, your 'nephew' went over the top on throwing a water gun at my daughter's head. Rosemary only poured water on him," I nod towards the small boy, who has now moved over to Curly's side. Both of his small hands grip tightly onto Curly's skin tight jeans, crumbling them in the process.

"Well," the man picks up his nephew, and within a few long strides, he is standing in front of me and Rosemary. "If it is that case, I am very sorry, Rosemary. I'm Harry." The man, now known has Harry, introduces himself and holds out his free hand to Rosemary, which was in front of my chest.

Rosemary looks at Harry's had in a questionable way. She was never good with strangers and new people in her life. It gives her anxiety, unless it is small children like the ones at this small park. Older people scare her for some reason, and it is probably the reason of the difference of age.

I watch this whole situation with my eyebrows creased and lips parted. It was unbelievable as I watch Rosemary's small hand grab onto Harry's and lightly shake it. Harry seems pleased with himself when after a few moments, a big toothy grin spreads across her face. Never in a million years would I have ever see her have this big smile on her face. The last time was when I gave Rosemary spaghetti for her birthday. I was never a good cook.

"I'm R-Rosemary," she stutters, still gripping onto his hand. Her other hand remains on my arm, squeezing it as hard as she could. I know she was nervous with this whole situation, but God, it made me so proud for some reason.

"And who is the angry lady on your arm?" Harry asks, nodding his head in my direction with a smirk on his face. A large dimple is prominent in the features, and I can not help but want to poke it.

Yes, after that remark, I can feel my cheeks rise in heat. I am either angry or blushing, both are still wrong. He is gorgeous, believe me, but I cannot wait to get out of this park and away from Harry.

"This is my mom." Rosemary spills out and suddenly cups my ear with her small hand. "What is your first name, mommy?" She whispers, a small giggle interrupting the silence.

"Sage," I whisper back, looking back at Harry to notice his questioning stare. The smirk is long gone, but is now a small smile as he admires the interaction.

The small boy is squirming in his arms, and he is also confused as well. His clothes have dried shockingly, and I also notice that his hair is matted down.

"Sage is my mommy," Rosemary slightly yells.

Laughs both erupt from Harry and me, but we quickly stop when we notice that we are doing it in unison. As always, an awkward silence is amidst us.

"Nice to meet you, Rosemary." Harry chuckles, a dimple carving his cheek. "And you, Sage," he quickly adds in a teasing manner, his hand moving over to mine.

Warmness envelops my hand as I shake his, feeling the coldness from his rings. And oh goodness, his hand feels like home in mine. It might sound cliche, but it seems like the truth to me. It all ends to fast, but I am glad.

"This is Bobby, my nephew. I should have introduced him first since these two were a bit of the cause, but it's grand now."

Rosemary shakes Bobby's hand with a pout on her face. I know she was getting tired, and this was my excuse to get the hell away from Curly. This is not the moment to make it all sweet, and I know I am not going to be seeing this guy anymore. I already have the plans for Rosemary and I to drive up to California in two weeks.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Bobby, but it seems that Rosemary here is in need of a nap." I skip over Harry's name, just as he did mine. "Goodbye, Harry."

Rearranging Rose in my arms quickly, I turn around and try to ignore Harry's voice that is calling me back. And all of a sudden, his grip is on my arm and Rosemary is standing on the ground beside Bobby. My body is froze in Harry's grip, but our bodies are turned the opposite way.

"Wait," he mutters to where only I can hear, and my body is still froze. "You kind of forgot your phone."

Holy shit, I really did think he had other plans of his own. But no, a stupid idiot like me leaves her phone on the bench. I frantically retrieve my phone back and grab onto Rosemary's hand. My eyes never leave Harry's.

"Thank you, Harry."

He slightly nods back and picks up Bobby, his biceps flexing in the process. Dear Lord, I will die one day and that will be the cause.

"I'll see you around, Sage. Bye Rosemary." A slight smile flickers across his face and he turns around, walking away with Bobby in his arms.

And by golly, the sneaky bastard put his number in my phone.