But his mother intercepted every single one.
I was back there again.
Seventeen. Sitting on cold bleachers, my hands trembling.
Jordan’s face was pale as I told him the truth.
“I’m pregnant.”
For a moment, he just stared at me. Then he took my hands in his.
“Okay,” he said, his voice unsteady but firm.
“Okay?” I repeated, stunned.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Back in my kitchen, Liam’s voice cut through the memory.
“So he knew.”
