The Day Everything Changed

Flashback

                                                        A Little Less Than Nine Years Ago

Laila had stopped by Jordan's place after her appointment, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves the entire ride over. Her mother had gone with her to the doctor since Jordan couldn't make it—football practice ran late, and the coach was strict—but he had promised to call. She wanted to tell him in person instead. The moment her mom dropped her off, Laila walked up onto the porch and took a seat on the old wooden step once she realized no one was home, drawing in a slow breath. She traced the grain of the wood with her fingers, imagining his reaction, imagining their future. Would he be scared? Happy? Both?

After nearly ten minutes, she saw him walking up the street, sweaty from practice but smiling the moment he spotted her.

"Lai, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprise tugging up the corners of his mouth.

She sprang up. "I told you I'd stop by after the doctor, and I have news," she said, unable to contain her bubbling excitement.

Jordan's smile faltered as he glanced nervously toward the house. "Lai, let me take you home. My grandpa should be coming any minute."

She crossed her arms, brow raised. "Jordan, we have been dating for three years. You've been living with your grandparents for six months. And we're going to have a baby. I think it's time we tell them. My parents said they'd help us."

"Laila, we can't. Not yet," he insisted, panic creeping into his voice.

Before she could argue, a car pulled into the driveway, neat and deliberate. Laila's stomach tightened. She had only met his grandparents once, and it had been rushed—just polite hellos. She had always wondered why Jordan never let her come over, why he avoided the topic of his family entirely.

George and Pauline Hall stepped out of the car. Pauline smiled warmly the second she noticed Laila.

"Jordan, I didn't know you were having guests today," Pauline said in her soft, sweet voice.

"Um, yes… this is Laila," Jordan said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Pauline's smile widened. "My son and daughter have said wonderful things about you, Laila. And Sammy seems to be quite taken with you."

Before Laila could respond, George slammed the car door and glared at her like she had personally offended him.

"Why is she here?" he barked.

Laila straightened her shoulders. "I'm here because Jordan and I needed to talk to you about something important."

George snorted. "I don't see what you need to talk to me about. Jordan, see your friend home. Now."

"Girlfriend," Laila corrected, her voice cool but sharp. "Not friend. And it's important that we talk."

George eyed her up and down with disgust. "Girlfriend? No. Jordan wouldn't date someone like you."

Laila blinked. "Someone like me?"

"George, please don't," Pauline whispered, wringing her hands.

"Yes, someone like you," he spat. "My father would roll over in his grave if he saw you with her."

Jordan stepped forward. "Grandpa, that's enough! Laila is amazing, and I love her!"

"Love!" George scoffed. "You're seventeen! What the hell do you know about love?"

"I'm almost eighteen," Jordan argued. "And I know enough."

Laila instinctively placed a protective hand over her stomach, her heart pounding. She wasn't ashamed of her pregnancy—not for one second—but the way George's gaze slid to her hand made her skin crawl.

His eyes widened with fury. "Jordan… tell me she's just gaining weight, and that is not a baby bump."

Laila's voice dropped into a cold, steady tone. "Wow. You aren't just ignorant—you're rude as hell."

"Grandpa, I wanted to tell Mom and Dad before—"

"Before what!? You ruin the Hall name by breeding with the likes of her!?"

Laila's jaw dropped. "Breeding? What am I, cattle?"

George sneered at her. "Isn't that what animals do?"

Pauline gasped, covering her mouth. "George!"

Laila's anger burned hot. "So because I'm Black, I'm an animal? It's 2016. What century are you living in?"

"I don't care what year it is," George snapped. "No grandson of mine will father a mixed-breed child! You are ruining your life. Seventeen years old, still in high school—how do you think you're going to raise a baby?"

"I don't know! But it's my choice!" Jordan shot back.

"You don't even know if it's yours!" George hissed. "Her kind likes to sleep around. I bet your mom has five different baby daddies, right?"

Laila stepped forward, shaking with fury. "Excuse you? You, racist, misinformed jackass. Jordan is the father. And my mom has ONE husband and ONE father to all her children. I love Jordan, and yes, this is hard, but we'll get through it. Together."

George leaned in so close she could smell his aftershave. "Jordan, end this relationship now, or you are cut off. From us. From your future. From everything."

Pauline's voice trembled. "George, please. This isn't how—"

"Pauline, stay out of this!" he roared. "Jordan, say goodbye to this harlot."

Jordan's voice cracked. "Grandpa…"

"Fine. If you won't do it, I will!" George snapped, stepping toward Laila again. "Jordan has a future. A real one. And you? You'll drag him down. Scouts will be watching him this year. Do you think he'll get into a college program with a baby on the way? He'll end up flipping pizzas, working nights, barely scraping by."

"It will be hard," Laila said, voice trembling but fierce. "But we can do it. Together."

George's eyes narrowed. "Do you think your father is going to take this well? No. You either come inside and pretend this never happened… or you walk away now. And never come back. Make your decision. Now."

The world felt painfully still. Laila looked at Jordan, tears gathering. "Jay… please."

Jordan's face contorted with anguish. "Laila… you should go."

Her heart shattered so loudly she swore she could hear it crack.

George smirked triumphantly and waved Pauline inside.

"Just—just give me a minute," Jordan whispered. He turned to Laila, desperation in his eyes. "I'm sorry. Let me talk to them. I'll call you. I promise."

"Jordan, don't leave us," she begged. "Your daughter… she needs her father. I need you."

He stopped in his tracks. "Daughter?"

Laila nodded, wiping her tears. "Yes. A girl."

Jordan squeezed her hands, torn between love and fear. "I'll call you this weekend. I swear. I… I love you."

She watched him walk away, her legs trembling until she collapsed onto the porch step.

She cried the entire drive home—silent, aching sobs that made her chest hurt. She cried for herself. For the little life inside her. For the man she loved who wasn't strong enough to choose her.

When she finally walked into the house, Amelia Jones rushed to her side immediately.

"Lai? Baby, what's wrong?"

Laila broke down. "It's horrible, Momma. He… he just—"

"He what?" Amelia asked softly, guiding her to the couch.

"His grandfather is a racist," Laila choked. "He threatened to cut Jordan off if he stayed with me. With us. I've never—" She couldn't finish.

Miles, Mariah, and Link burst into the room, protective instincts flaring.

"What happened?" Link demanded.

Amelia stroked Laila's hair. "Jordan's grandfather said terrible things to her. Belittled her. Threatened him." Link's nostrils flared. "Okay. I'm going over there. Miles, let's—"

"No," Amelia cut in sharply. "Jordan has to make his own decision. We can't force this."

Laila wiped her cheeks. "I just… want to go to bed."

Her siblings escorted her upstairs like a shield.

Downstairs, Link paced back and forth, fists clenched.