Jordan Knight Snapshots (Mature)

His Wife, My Love Part V

Jordan expelled smoke from his mouth as he watched numerous men, women, and children going in and out of Families United Counseling Services. He absently tapped his knuckles against his steering wheel while he watched them, humming to the beat of the Sting classic playing on the radio.

The final note of the song stuck in his throat at the vision of the trigger before him. A middle-aged man, whom he presumed to be a husband or head of the family, was walking out of the building, holding hands with a woman around his age with his left hand, and a young boy with his right. Jordan's heart twisted in his chest at the joy and smiles on their faces. He'd had that once. He'd had everything. Then it was senselessly taken away from him. One. By. One.

God was not a loving God. He was not a merciful God. He was a monster.

Jordan felt the tears rising in his chest and grunted, shoving the emotion down. He had a counseling session to attend and the last thing he wanted to do was walk in there red-faced and sniffling from an emotional outburst. Grief had many forms and wore many disguises. Many faces. Today, his was numbness. He would say what he had to say to get through the session. Then he would go home and stare at the walls and try not to punch them open with his fists.

Taking one more drag from the cigarette, Jordan tore his eyes away from the loving family who were now walking by his car talking animatedly and laughing out loud, exhaled the smoke, and stabbed the cigarette out in his ashtray.

His phone chirped beside him and he absently picked it up, cringing at the message icon on the screen with Lila's name next to it. This was the ninth text message she'd left in three hours.

He was a coward. He knew it. He knew she was looking for an explanation; probably round five of numbing, mind-blowing sex. The combination was an oxymoron at best. But he was done with that. He was not putting himself or her through that recklessness anymore. They both had to move past that and let it go. They'd never had a shot to begin with. The odds had always been against them. And that wasn't going to change now.

He'd made his mistakes, more times than he wanted to think about or admit. But that was all in the past. Lila was in the past. Right now, he had to figure out a way to move forward without his son in his life. And that was going to take the rest of his life to get through.

The woman he loved.... The woman he could never have, no matter how bad he wanted her... The woman who had been forbidden torture from the start, could not replace Noel. Could not mend that hurt. She only made it worse.

Jordan was an awful man. A foolish man. A selfish man. A coward. And being around her only constantly reminded him of that.

Jordan did a quick check of his appearance in his rearview mirror, ignoring the bags under his eyes and his wild, dark brown hair, focusing instead on his teeth and breath. He didn't have to worry about his attire. Even feeling like shit, he always made sure to look his best and accentuate his masculine appeal when he left the house.

Today he was wearing designer jeans and a button-down sky-blue shirt with a light jacket. He briefly glanced down at his shirt to make sure it wasn't wrinkled; then quickly sprayed Binaca breath spray in his mouth, combed his fingers through his hair, then exited the car, taking his keys with him and hitting the automatic lock. He entered the building and headed to the elevators, pressing the up button. His phone chirped again, and he grit his teeth.

He needed to answer her. He should answer her. But answering her would only pull him back in. Surge him back to her. She would be fine. If he ignored her long enough, she would go away. Just like last time.

The elevator doors opened, and Jordan entered, nodding at the attractive blue-eyed red-head who exited out. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him, winking. He only nodded his head again and looked down at the floor as the doors closed.