A Goodbye She Never Deserved

Flashback cont.

A Week Later

Laila lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, when a knock came—a soft, hesitant sound, the kind someone makes when they don't want to startle you. She looked up, eyes swollen from days of crying, and sighed as her older sister Mariah stepped quietly into the room. The door creaked slightly, letting in a sliver of hallway light.

"Hey, Lai… Can I come in?" Mariah asked gently.

Laila shrugged, shifting upright. Her pillow was damp again—she didn't even remember falling asleep. Everything felt heavy, like grief itself sat on her chest.

Mariah walked in slowly and perched on the edge of the bed. She held something in her hand—an envelope, folded once, edges worn as if it had been held too tightly.

"I have something for you… a letter," she whispered. "From Jordan."

Laila stared at it, her heart lurching. For seven days she had waited, checking her phone every few minutes, praying he would call, text—anything. She knew he was hurting too. She just believed love would win eventually.

But he never reached out.

Hands trembling, she reached for the envelope. Her thumb brushed over his handwriting, the familiar slanted letters sending a fresh ache spiraling through her.

"Are you gonna read it?" Mariah asked softly.

Laila swallowed. "Why did he give it to you?"

"He didn't," Mariah said. "I found it taped to the door. No knock. No message. Just… this."

A sharp breath escaped Laila's lungs. She closed her eyes, bracing herself, then opened the letter. The paper crinkled loudly in the quiet room.

Dear Laila,

I love you, I genuinely and truly love you, and nothing and no one will change that. I knew you were the love of my life the moment I met you. That my life would be forever changed by you. But I can't do this.

My grandfather was wrong in how he treated you, but he was right in telling us that we shouldn't do this. Laila, you are graduating, and I am going into my senior year; I am only seventeen. I haven't even begun to live, and it's going to be hard taking care of a baby and trying to keep up with school and football.

I found out my grandfather had bonds for my siblings and me, and after agreeing never to see you again, he cashed mine for me. I have enclosed a check for $20,000; it's the least I can do for this situation.

I am unsure what you want to do, but I will sign over my parental rights if you decide to put the baby up for adoption. I am sorry, Laila. It's all I can say.

Love,

Jordan

Laila stared at the words until they blurred. Her hands shook so hard she nearly dropped the paper. Mariah immediately wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm so sorry, Lai," she whispered.

Laila shook her head, her voice breaking. "He left me… he left me! He gave me money and walked away like we were nothing. Like our baby was nothing."

Before Mariah could answer, the bedroom door opened again.

Amelia peeked inside. "Knock knock. Your dad and I were thinking of taking everyone out for—" Her voice cut off as she took in the scene. "What happened?"

Mariah silently handed her the letter and the check.

Amelia's entire demeanor hardened—shoulders back, jaw tight. "No. No, this is not how this ends. Come on, Laila. Get up and let's go."

Laila blinked. "Go where?"

"We're going to see Jordan," Amelia said firmly. "If he wants to walk away from you and my grandbaby, he can be man enough to say it to your face. Not in a letter."

Laila hesitated—hurt, humiliated—but she stood anyway. Because part of her still wanted answers.

The drive to the Hill house felt eternal. Laila pressed her forehead to the window, watching the familiar streets blur. It all felt too much—too overwhelming for someone barely out of childhood herself.

When they arrived, Amelia marched up the steps with Laila close behind. She knocked sharply. Pauline opened the door, surprise flickering across her face.

"Oh—Laila. And this must be your mother."

"Yes," Amelia said. "I'm Amelia Jones, and we need to see Jordan. He left this letter for Laila, but she deserves to hear it from him directly."

Pauline's expression shifted to heartbreak. "You're too late. After we found out about the pregnancy, Jordan and George got into a huge argument. Jordan left—said he needed space. He's staying with his parents for a bit." She sighed. "I'm so sorry, Laila. Truly. He's only seventeen… he should enjoy his senior year. He's so close to a scholarship. He has to think about his future."

Laila's lips trembled. "And what about my future? The future of our daughter? What about us?"

Pauline looked down, guilt flooding her eyes. "I really am sorry, dear. Really sorry."

She gently closed the door.

Laila stood frozen for several seconds before Amelia guided her away. Once in the car, the brave face Laila had been wearing crumbled.

"I can't do this, Mom…" she sobbed. "I can't do this alone."

Amelia pulled her close. "Yes, you can. You're stronger than you think. Jordan is just a boy, baby. But you—you're about to become someone's whole world. You can do this."

"I know I disappointed you. I know you hate me," Laila cried. "I thought if I fixed things with Jordan, maybe you wouldn't hate me so much."

"Laila Joy Jones," Amelia said, cupping her cheeks, "we don't hate you. We love you. We didn't want this for you at this age, but we will never abandon you. You're our daughter."

Laila sniffed hard. "When I first found out I was pregnant, Gigi said I could come stay with her. I think… I think I want to go to Charleston."

Amelia paused. "Baby, that's far. Are you sure?"

Laila's eyes drifted toward the Hill house—toward the place where her dreams had just collapsed. "There's nothing left here for me. I want to go somewhere fresh. Somewhere, no one knows me. Gigi can help with the baby, I can work at her restaurant… go to school. I just… I don't want to keep breaking here."

Amelia hugged her tightly. "We'll talk to your dad. And if you go, I go."

"Mom—"

"No buts. Your siblings and your father will manage if I'm gone every other week."

"That's too much on you," Laila whispered.

"I don't care," Amelia murmured. "You're my child. I love you. And you are going to be okay."

Back to the Present

"So I packed everything I could," Laila finished, sitting back in her chair. "And drove to Charleston. I've split my time ever since—here and home—because my family still needs me."

Sebastian stared at her, mouth open. "Wow. I knew you moved here for a reason, but I didn't know it was that reason." He shook his head slowly. "Did you ever find out what happened to your ex?"

Laila sighed. "I really don't care anymore. I reached out to him—every year, actually. Birthdays. Milestones. Updates. Nothing. Not a single response. But if I wanted to know what he's been doing all this time? All I'd have to do is turn on ESPN."

Sebastian frowned. "ESPN? Why would a sports network—hold up." His eyes widened. "Why in the hell would they be talking about Izzy's father on—"

Laila cleared her throat.

"Her father," she said slowly, "is the starting quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals."

Sebastian shot upright. "Her father is Jordan Hall?!"

He stared at her like she had just revealed a state secret.

Laila just nodded, exhaustion and acceptance woven together in her expression.

And for the first time, Sebastian truly understood the weight Laila had carried alone all these years.