CHAPTER 6: Jordan Taylor

CLAIRE'S POV,

I gasped, disoriented, and looked up to see a familiar pair of concerned eyes.

Jordan Taylor—a senior from my college had his strong arms wrapped around my waist, steadying me before I could collapse to the ground.

“Claire? Is that really you?” he asked softly, his voice still the same.

“I-I… I need to get to the hospital.” I was barely able to get the words out.

Without hesitation, Jordan guided me to his car, his hand gentle but firm on my shoulder as he helped me into the passenger seat. The pain still twisted in my stomach, fear gripping me as I wondered if the baby—our baby—would make it through this ordeal.

I barely registered the passing streets as he drove.

When we arrived at the hospital, Jordan hurried to help me out of the car, his hand never leaving mine as he led me through the doors and into the Emergency room. The doctors called for me right away, seeing the urgency in my pale face and trembling frame.

We were brought to a small room by a nurse who briefed him on my condition. As the doctor began the examination, he looked over at Jordan, nodding sympathetically.

“It’s good that you brought your wife in so quickly, sir,” he said. “Her condition is stable, but it’s very dangerous to have signs of miscarriage this early.”

The word husband hit me like a jolt, and I quickly shook my head. “Oh, no, he’s… not my husband.”

A shadow flickered across Jordan’s face, something like disappointment mingling with concern, but he only nodded. The doctor looked a little embarrassed, glancing between us before continuing his examination.

“You should contact your husband and let him know your condition,” the doctor suggested, his tone slightly firmer now. “It’s important he’s aware, especially given how close this was. If you hadn’t come in when you did, you… you could have lost the baby.”

His words made me shudder, the reality of it washing over me.

If Jordan hadn’t been there… I didn’t even want to finish the thought. A vivid image of Leo driving off flashed in my mind, followed by the echo of his words as he dismissed me back at the house.

"Thank you, doctor,” I said, my voice barely audible. “I’ll follow your advice.”

As we left the consultation room, the echo of the doctor’s words lingered, tightening the ache in my chest. Leonard hadn’t stopped the car for me; he hadn’t heard my desperate call for help. Or maybe he had and simply chose not to stop.

Either way, he wasn’t there, once again. I was reminded of another moment; when I fell in the bathroom and had to call the ambulance myself. That day he was with Charlotte too, because she had a fever.

The very thought of miscarriage made my heart race with a terrifying sense of fragility, of how close I had come to losing the one thing I started to care for the most.

Jordan glanced over at me, his face etched with concern.

“I’ll take you home,” he offered, his voice gentle. “Or… you can call your husband to come pick you up.”

I shook my head, trying to mask the sorrow tightening my chest. Leonard was surely still with Charlotte, maybe even blaming me for her accident. The thought of calling him only to be dismissed again felt unbearable.

Also, I didn't want to think about him anymore because it was tiring. If you loved someone for as long as we had been together, the least you could do is give that person one day. He couldn't even do that.

One-sided love hardly ever blossoms.

“Thank you, Jordan,” I replied, managing a faint smile. “But I’ll call a cab. I don’t want to keep bothering you.”

“Claire… I” he began, changing the topic.“I actually just got back to the country and set up a construction company. If you ever need anything, please call me. Here.”

He held out a business card, his name and phone number printed on it.

I took it, feeling a small, warm spark of familiarity in the card’s weight. Jordan had been famous in the architecture department back in college. I remembered admiring his designs and the way he seemed to approach every project with a passion I’d felt, too.

He’d accomplished his dream, and I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of happiness for him.

“Congratulations,” I said, genuinely. “You’ve come so far… you actually made it.”

Jordan smiled.

“What about you?” he asked, trying to sound lighthearted. “Which firm are you working with, or… should I try and recruit you?” He joked.

I hesitated before starting, “actually… I’m not working anymore. I… I’m a full-time housewife now.” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I remembered all the aspirations I once held. After our marriage, Leo's family didn't want me to work as his secretary and forced me to be a trophy wife. They feared if I still worked for him, it would start rumours in the company.

Jordan’s face fell, surprise and disappointment flashing in his eyes. “Claire, you were brilliant in school. Everyone thought you were destined for great things. Being a housewife is such a waste of your talent…”

I felt the sting of his words, not because they were unkind, but because they were true.

“Sorry, if I said too much. It's your life and your choice,” he apologized and put his hand on my shoulder.

“It’s alright, Jordan,” I said, a seed in my mind grew. “However, I was thinking of going back—”

“Claire,” a familiar voice interrupted.

I turned, feeling a rush of nerves as I spotted Leo standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on us. His expression darkened as he looked at Jordan’s hand, which still rested gently on my shoulder.

His eyes narrowed, a flash of jealousy twisting his features as his jaw clenched.