All Chapters of Her Christmas Wish: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Laila pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as if that might keep her from splintering apart completely. Her shoulders were tight, her posture defensive, but her eyes gave her away. Her voice came out low and dangerous, trembling just beneath the surface. "If you hurt her—""I won't," Jordan said immediately, the words tumbling out of him as he pushed himself to his feet. Panic and urgency collided in his chest, leaving him breathless. "I won't. I swear to you, I won't. I promise you, Laila.""I can't trust you," she said simply.The honesty in it hit harder than her yelling ever could have. It wasn't an accusation. It was a fact. A truth forged by eight years of absence.Jordan swallowed hard, then reached for her hand—slowly, carefully—tentative this time, as if even the act of asking permission might matter. When she didn't pull away, he nodded once, as if acknowledging the weight of the moment. "I know," he said hoarsely. "I know I don't deserve your trust. I know

Laila grew nervous the moment Miles texted that he and Bri were on their way home with Laya. Her stomach twisted sharply, a familiar anxiety settling deep in her chest—the kind that made it hard to draw a full breath and impossible to still her hands. She rubbed her palms together, then pressed them against her thighs, willing herself to stay grounded, to remember that she had handled harder things than this. Still, her heart refused to slow. This wasn’t just a conversation or a hard moment—this was the moment. One that could never be undone, no matter how carefully she chose her words or how gently she tried to guide it. Once Malaya knew, everything would change, and there would be no way to shield her from the truth anymore.She paced once, then stopped herself, forcing her feet to stay planted as she glanced across the living room at Jordan. He had been pacing nonstop for the last five minutes, crossing from the window to the couch and back again, rubbing his hands together as if h

"She hates me." Jordan's voice cracked as the words left him, barely louder than a whisper. He stood near the center of the living room, hands clenched at his sides, staring at the staircase as if sheer willpower might bring Malaya back down. The house felt too quiet now, like it was holding its breath, waiting to see what would break next.Laila exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with exhaustion and restraint. "Jordan, this isn't about you. So stop, okay?" She turned toward him, her eyes rimmed red but steady, the way they always got when she was forcing herself not to fall apart. "I know that might sound harsh, but we just told that little girl you're her father. A father she didn't know existed. You don't get to make this about how you feel right now. She needs time."Jordan finally looked at her—really looked at her—and the sight of tears shining in Laila's eyes made his chest tighten painfully. He took a step toward her, then stopped himself. "Lai… I'm sorry," he said quietly. "If w

Jordan walked into his grandparents' house and exhaled slowly, the weight of the night settling into his shoulders like a physical thing. The cold air still clung to his coat as he shut the door behind him, his chest tight from everything he'd seen, everything he'd felt, and everything he hadn't said. It felt strange to be back here—this house that had once been home, then a battleground, now something in between. He barely had time to shrug out of his coat before he was met with four pairs of expectant eyes, all trained on him like he was walking into an interrogation."How'd it go?" Judy asked immediately, pushing herself up from her chair. Her hands were clasped together so tightly her knuckles had gone pale, her face full of barely restrained hope and fear tangled together.Jordan nodded, running a hand over the back of his neck as he searched for the right words. His mind replayed Malaya's face over and over again. "It went… it went." He gave a small, tired smile that didn't quit

Jordan ran out the front door just in time to see Laila reaching her car, keys already in hand, her shoulders squared as if she’d built armor around herself.“Laila, don’t do this!” he called, his voice sharp with panic and desperation, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.She turned slowly, one hand resting on the driver’s door, her expression eerily calm. It was the kind of calm that came after too much hurt, the kind that meant she was done reacting and ready to walk away. “Don’t do what, Jordan?” she asked evenly. “I’m getting in my car and going home.” Her gaze flicked briefly toward the house behind him. “You should head back inside. Malibu Barbie is probably missing her Ken doll by now.”“That’s just rude,” he said, forcing a crooked smile—one that made her fingers itch to wipe it right off his face.“I’ve gotta go, Jordan.”She rolled her eyes and turned toward the car again, but Jordan stepped forward, placing his hand against the door before she could open it fu