“Jordan?” I lift Henry from the changing table, noting how Jordan won’t meet my eyes. “Everything okay?”
“Fine. Just…” He trails off, like he’s lost in thought.
The warmth from moments before evaporates, leaving behind an awkwardness that feels like a cold draft. Jordan moves around the nursery, putting things away with mechanical precision, like he’s trying to create distance between us.
I check my phone and realize it’s later than I thought. “Oh, wow, it’s almost eight. I should probably get Ash home. He has school tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Jordan says, but there’s something relieved in his tone, like my announcement has given him an escape from whatever was troubling him.
I want to push, to ask what’s really going on. But the walls he’s put up are so obvious that I know he won’t tell me. Whatever is weighing on him, whatever makes him shut down every time he starts to relax, he’s not ready to share it.
“Of course,” I say, even though it feels like the wrong response. “I’ll wake Ash up.”
Back in the living room, I gently shake Ash’s shoulder. He wakes up slowly, blinking in confusion until he remembers where he is.
“Hi, Mom. Is the movie over?”
“It’s over, sweetheart. Time to go home.”
Ash sits up, looking around for Jordan, who’s standing near the window with Henry in his arms. “Thanks for letting me fall asleep on your couch, Jordan.”
“Anytime,” Jordan says, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
We gather our things quietly, and Jordan walks us to the door. The easy camaraderie from earlier feels like it happened days ago instead of minutes ago.
“See you tomorrow?” I ask, hoping the question sounds casual.
“Tomorrow,” Jordan confirms, but he’s already stepping back, already closing himself off.
As we cross the yard to our house, Ash chatters about the movie and how comfortable Jordan’s couch is. But I’m thinking about the moment in the nursery when Jordan’s whole demeanor changed. The way he went from laughing with me to treating me like a polite stranger.
Something is seriously wrong in Jordan’s life. Something that makes him feel guilty for enjoying simple moments like laughing about baby mishaps or watching movies on Sunday evening.
Part of me wants to know what it is. Part of me wants to help him carry whatever burden he’s shouldering alone. But another partof me, the practical part that’s learned to protect my heart over the years, wonders if ignorance might actually be bliss.
Because I’m getting attached. To Jordan, to Henry, to the way the four of us feel like a family when we’re together. I’m getting attached to fifty-dollar-an-hour pay and being able to say yes when Ash wants to do things with his friends. I’m getting attached to the way Jordan looks at me sometimes, like I’m something precious instead of just the help.
If there’s some big surprise around the corner that’s going to end all of this, maybe I don’t want to know what it is. Maybe I don’t want to see it coming. Maybe I want to enjoy whatever time we have left without the shadow of knowing it’s temporary.
Because everything in my life has been temporary. Ash’s father, my job, even my grandmother, eventually. The one constant has been that of protecting myself and Ash from getting too invested in things that might disappear.
But it might already be too late for that. The thought of Jordan and Henry not being part of our daily routine makes my chest ache in a way that suggests I’m already more invested than I should be.
Still, I can choose not to dig deeper. I can choose to take this job at face value and not ask the questions that might give me answers I don’t want to hear.
Even when pushing people away might be the last thing Jordan actually needs, maybe it’s exactly what I need to do to protect my own heart.
CHAPTER 15
JORDAN
The phone feels heavy in my hand as I listen to the familiar sound of being put on hold. Henry sits in his bouncy seat, contentedly playing with a soft toy while I pace the kitchen, waiting for Dr. Rockaway to come back on the line.
“Dr. Hadley?” Her voice finally returns, and I stop pacing immediately.
“Any changes?” I ask, though I already know the answer from her tone.
“I’m sorry, no significant changes. Her vitals remain stable, brain activity is normal, but she’s still unresponsive. Sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, the timeline for recovery can be?—”
