The floor. The taste of blood. The paramedics.
Jordan.
Her voice. Her hands. Telling me she was there. That it was going to be okay.
I woke up in a hospital bed with her by my side.
Everything after that was handled. Discreetly.
I push up from my chair and head for the kitchen.
I need a drink.
I pass Jordan at the counter and swing open the liquor cabinet, grabbing the tequila and a whiskey glass. I pop the lid and start to pour.
“Whoa. What are you doing?” Jordan asks, her voice laced with concern. “The guardian ad litem is coming in twenty minutes. You can’t drink that.”
“Ah, fuck.” I dump the tequila into the sink and set the glass down hard on the counter. “Fuck.”
I shove the bottle away, sliding it across the counter. A risky move. Jordan’s gaze follows it, shocked and wide-eyed as it stops just short of the edge.
I plant my hands on the surface of the quartz and inhale, forcing air into my lungs before looking at her. “Tell me I’m not like him.”
Her brows knit together. “Like who?”
“My father.” My voice comes out rough. “I’m not like him. Am I? Please. Tell me I’m not.”
“Matt—what happened? What did he say?” She’s already on her feet, moving toward me.
I push off the counter, clasping my hands behind my head. “Just tell me I’m not like him, Jordan. Please.”
I start pacing, noticing the time on the clock. “Shit. He’s going to be here in fifteen minutes. And I’m not ready. I’m not ready for this.”
“Matt. Stop.” She reaches for my arm.
I brush her off.
“What if I can’t do this? What if—” I stop, going still. “What if I’m like him and don’t even know it yet? What if I hurt Cole? Or make him feel like shit? What if…” I huff out a breath. “What if this isn’t even the best thing for him? What if he’s better off with Cece?” I drag my hands down my face. “Fuck.”
Jordan’s hands press to my chest, her chin tilting up. “I don’t know what happened,” she says, shaking her head, eyes steady. “And it honestly doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t change the fact that…” Her hands slide up to my neck, thumbs grazing my jaw. “Look at me.”
I exhale, defeated.
“You are nothing like him. You hear me?” She frames my face, then repeats, firmer this time, “Nothing. Not even a little.”
I hold her gaze, wanting to believe her, if only for the next two hours.
To be good enough right now.
I can worry about all the ways I might fuck Cole up later.
Just let me be enough today.
She’s the only one that knows about that night. About my dad. About the hospital.
How I moved out afterward and got my own place.
How I told my mom and she already knew, then asked me to stay quiet about it.
