the living room. "How can it get to you?"
Jordan spins around to face me, so many emotions on his face. His eyes move around the room as he clenches his jaw. My foot taps as I wait for his reply and watch as pain floods his expression.
"No." He shakes his head and quickly walks away from me. "I'm not going. He’s pulling this shit trying to force me into going over there," he says, snatching his keys from the coffee table.
"Jordan—" I pause, finally getting the hint that more is going on than I realize. He’s halfway to the door before he turns back to me.
"I don't give a shit if you want to go. But if you do, you're going alone." He yanks the door open and slams it behind him.
Two hours later, I pull up to the school and head directly for Jordan’s office. I would have followed him when he left but I knew he was headed to class and I'd be wasting my time trying to talk to him then. I don’t understand what set him off and I’ve never seen so much hurt in his face. It’s like whatever he was feeling was completely gutting him and I had no idea how to respond. His last class ended fifteen minutes ago and I’m praying Satchi isn’t in the office with him.
The elevator seems to crawl as it moves through the floors. I’m anxious, I don’t know exactly what I want to say to him, I just hate that he left so angry. I couldn’t understand his behavior but he really didn’t give me an explanation either. The elevator dings and I quickly step off and walk down the hall to the office, passing students and professors alike. I push the door open slowly, seeing Satchi first, speaking into his camera at his desk, and Jordan across the room at his. Dammit.
“Oh, Ms. Teller,” Satchi says. “Missed you in class this week. You look a lot better than you did last time you were here,”
“Hi, Prof,” I say, glancing over at Jordan, then back to him. “Sorry, I’m truly sorry about that but, yes, better. I should be good for class Monday morning,” The second I speak the words my heart sinks as I remember the whole virus thing could have been total bullshit all along. That I could be pregnant and all the progress Jordan and I made in our relationship could come to a screeching halt.
“Good.” He nods. I glance over my shoulder at Jordan again, who’s keeping his focus on the paper in front of him. Satchi must feel the tension because he looks between us curiously. “You guys must be fighting, I was wondering why my TA has been so damn moody today.” He rises from his seat. I watch in shock as he straightens himself before looking back at me.
“Fix him,” he says, leaning forward as he walks past. “We have a lot of work to do next week.”
I smirk, nodding once, and watch as he walks out of the room and shuts the door. Jordan is now looking at me, his body hunched over his desk.
We maintain eye contact as silence seeps through the space and I approach him.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“No, I'm sorry,” I say. “I should have asked why you didn’t want to go instead of blowing up on you like that.”
He stands and comes out from behind the desk. “There is nothing my father could do or say to make me not want to be with you.” He wraps his arms around me. “You aren’t the reason why I didn't want to go over there.”
“Then what is it?” I ask.
“It’s my mother.” His eyes drop to the floor as he moves away. “I haven’t told you this, but since she died, I’ve been avoiding going in there. Dad has been on me a lot recently about coming home and dealing with things and him inviting us over through you was his way of trying to manipulate me.”
I’m speechless as I look at him. I never knew he was in so much pain. He’s done damn well hiding it. After the first year he sort of fell back into his old ways, staying busy with football, school. Maybe that was the problem.
“Jordan,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Baby, I’m so sorry. Lisa’s death was hard on us all.”
“Yeah,” he says.
“But, don’t be angry at your father. He’s just trying to help.”
“I know,” Jordan huffs. “