Jordan was shaking with his fury. How could his father sit here and believe he had done the right thing for him? Was he delusional?
Thoughts rushed through his veins like he was going to explode at any given moment, and it made him realize a couple of things he needed to get off his chest now before he lost his nerve.
“Our phone calls when I said I wanted to come home for a visit…you insisted I stay at school…was it because you didn’t want me to discover the truth about Cassie?”
“You’re damn right I didn’t. I knew if you found out she was pregnant with your child, you’d want to do the right thing by her. You would have insisted on coming home and would not have continued your football scholarship. You wouldn’t have gone to a great college because you would be too busy earning money in a low-paying job you were not cut out for. Your life would have been miserable. I could see that, so I made it better for you. You certainly wouldn’t be playing in the NFL right now had you learned that boy was your son. They would have changed your entire future for you, and it wouldn’t have been for the better.” Clive inhaled deeply. Jordan knew how much this was hurting his father to speak, but he didn’t care. He had a right to know the truth about the life he could have had with Cassie and Jake.
“How can you fucking say that?” Jordan threw his words into his father’s face in a sudden surge of anger. “Did you ever think maybe I might have enjoyed being thrown into the deep end of fatherhood? That maybe it was my dream to stand by and support Cassie during parenthood? I loved her with all my heart, and you made me lose her.”
Lose, like she was some object. Who was he? He didn’t talk like this. Now he was blaming his father for contributing to his break-up with Cassie, like he didn’t have a backbone back then. He had been too naïve of the things to look forward to in his future to take action in his own life and stand up to his father.
“You’re mad at me now, but you could have been sinking into a dark depression back then too. All those dreams you’d worked so hard to achieve would have been dead to you. You would regret not playing football. By not knowing you’re a father, you were able to accomplish so much. Look where you are now—you’re playing in the NFL! Can you honestly tell me you don’t enjoy the thrill you actually made it into the big leagues? That you would have still become the same superstar you are today had you discovered you were going to become a father? Think logically, son, because I am, and I don’t believe you would be where you are today.”
“Only now I have regrets I wasn’t there for my family when I should have been. I’m not mad at you, Dad; I’m furious with you and the decisions you made on my behalf. It should have been me making those decisions, not you. It’s not your life; it’s mine. Do me a favor and stay out of my way from now on.”
Jordan would leave it at that. He said what he needed to say, he heard what he needed to hear, and he got his answers from his father. Besides, despite the hostility brewing between the two of them—so much he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him—he wasn’t that insensitive of a son to risk sending his father to the hospital again by causing him to suffer another heart attack from his hurtful words…no matter how true they were.
Before he left though, he turned slightly, pressing his lips together as the man behind him stared right back at him, and Jordan said, “It wouldn’t have been my dream I was destroying. It was yours.”
And with that, Jordan left. He didn’t know where he was going, but he did know he had to get out of the house before he did or said something he would regret later.
He felt the urge to ball his hand into a fist and throw a punch, but he knew to control the anger building up inside him. He couldn’t do it to his father. He wasn’t like his dad. He couldn’t and wouldn’t be controlling like Clive.
He wasn’t that kind of person.
Later that night, Cassie had just put Jake to bed, having read him one of his favorite stories she had read him plenty of times before. Just as she has settled herself back down on the couch to finish watching one of her feel good made-for-TV movies, there was a knock at her front door.
Wondering who could be coming to see her at this time of the night, she jumped up from the couch and made her way to the door, not caring that she wasn’t quite dressed for company. When she opened it, she found Jordan standing opposite her, his hands stuffed into his pockets and looking worse for wear.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him; she couldn’t turn him away, even if it was all she felt like doing.