Page 31 of Jordan’s Breakthrough (Unexpected Love #3)

JORDAN

L aughter rolls from the other side of the bar where Declan is telling a ridiculous story about a customer who tried to pay for his beer with a Costco membership card.

Piper is practically doubled over, wheezing.

I laugh right on cue when they look at me, but something feels off about it.

The sound is right, but inside, it feels… flat. Hollow. Like distant wind chimes.

It makes me pause. Am I mimicking joy again?

Turning my back on the others, I tug at my necklace as I finish wiping the counter.

Their voices blur around me. A week ago, I was with Miles.

Holding hands and feeling whole. Now I’m…

here, nodding at stories and smiling on the outside while something rots away on the inside.

When did I let myself slip back into the sadness again?

I promised Miles I wouldn’t. I promised him I’d keep trying. That I’d hold on to the anchors, and I haven’t. Not really. I haven’t called my doctor. Haven’t checked in about the meds. I haven’t written anything since that poem. Or even journaled.

I’ve been coasting by, going to work, sleeping, eating as I should—at least that’s one thing I’ve managed to do right.

I’ve been making easy meals with the food Miles bought me to avoid takeout.

The supply is running low, though. I’ll need to buy more so the temptation for a drive-through isn’t there.

But at least I’m not drowning.

That, in all honesty, is shocking. I expected to crash harder than ever after Miles left, but I haven’t. I’ve slipped back into my routines, sure, but I haven’t crashed. Not like before.

“Hey, you guys ready?” Piper asks after a few minutes. “I’m just about finished here.”

I shake off my thoughts. ”Yeah, just let me put this away.”

Piper and Declan are waiting by the door when I come out of the backroom, and Piper gives me a small smile as we head out. “Tell Miles hi for me.”

The returning smile is less forced this time. “I will.”

“Hey, do you think he’d care if I send him a friend request on Facebook?” Declan asks.

“No, I think he’d like that.”

His grin is immediate, reaching his eyes. “Cool. I’ll do that then. Think he’ll be coming for a visit soon?”

An ache blooms in my chest. “No word yet.”

“Well, if you want time off to go to him…” Declan gives me a pointed look as if to say, Just ask.

The thought of leaving San Diego still makes my palms sweat, but I have to admit, the resistance is fading. Salt Lake City is at the top of the list of places I’d go, if only so I can see Miles again. I just need the courage to do it.

After waving goodbye to my friends, I head home. Clematis greets me with a long meow, pleading for her late-night meal.

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, slipping out of my shoes. My limbs are heavy as I hang my keys.

Clematis circles around my feet before leaping to the kitchen island, waiting as I scoop some kibble into her bowl.

It’s half of what I feed her in the morning, and no gravy.

After scratching her ears, I grab a couple cheese sticks from the fridge and sit on the couch, but I am almost too tired to eat.

Today was a long day with never-ending customers, and it made the shift go by fast. I didn’t have time to think or feel. Now, it’s hitting me all over again. I’m aware of the loneliness and grief. The sadness. And it hurts to feel it.

I rub my sternum. How did I live like this for so long?

Glancing at the time, I have ten minutes until Miles will be home.

I want to hear his voice, and I want to talk to him, but the amount of energy conversation requires is like moving rocks with a trowel.

It’s just not there. Neither are my words.

I reach for the notebook, flipping to a blank page, but nothing comes.

No words, no rhythm. Just emptiness and an ache that won’t turn into language.

I shove it away. Fuck depression.

Monday. I’m off on Monday. I’ll call the doctor then.

Or…

I pull my phone out, pulling up the doctor’s website in the browser. It takes less than five minutes to schedule an appointment to see Dr. Briggs.

Five minutes to do something I should’ve done two years ago.

Ridiculous, Jordan.

But at least it’s done. I see her in three weeks, and with any luck, I’ll be able to start moving forward.

Eventually, Clematis climbs onto my lap, flopping against my chest with a happy purr. I curl my arms around her warm body and press my forehead to hers.

“Love you, pretty girl.”

She flicks her tail. I’ll take that as an I love you back .

My phone buzzes with an incoming video call, making me smile. I hit accept.

“Hey,” I say.

Miles is on his bed, seeming just as tired as me. “Hey, you.”

We’re both quiet for a moment, existing with each other through a screen. Seeing his face eases the weight on my chest.

I settle deeper into the couch, rubbing my thumb over Clematis’s ear as I kick up the footrest.

“How was your day?” Miles asks.

“Not terrible. Declan told a story tonight that was so dumb I think I lost brain cells, though.”

He chuckles. “Oh yeah? Pretty sure a patient stole some of mine.”

“Assholes,” I mutter.

He snickers, but his smile fades quickly. “I miss you.”

“Yeah,” I exhale. “Me too. I was just thinking I wanted to see you again.”

“Shit, that reminds me!” Miles sits up in a rush, scooting back to the headboard. “There’s a chance for me to take a shift in San Diego soon.”

Relief floods me as I sit up. “Really?”

His cheeks puff out in a smile. “It’s a one-year contract. Possibly eighteen months. And it’s a general rotation, which means I won’t be stuck in one department the whole time.”

“You sound excited about that. It’s a good thing?”

“A very good thing. For me, anyway. I like the change.”

Miles is clearly interested, but something is holding him back. “What do you want to do? You know I’d love to have you, but it’s your career, hon. I’m just here to support you.”

“Well, I want to be with you, obviously. And this is… Jordan, I don’t get long contracts like this very often. And in San Diego of all places . I’d basically be on your doorstep every night.”

I can’t help but smile. There is no basically about it. He would be. I’d make sure of it. “So, why haven’t you applied already?”

His smile fades instantly, and he bites his lip. “The position doesn’t start until three months after this one. Which means I either leave and head down there without three months’ pay, which I can do, but would rather not. Or…”

“Or you stay in Salt Lake City for three more months.” My heart sinks.

“Exactly. I won’t get there until December.”

Fuck.

I try to hide my disappointment. “That’s rough, but we’ll figure it out.”

He shifts, and somehow, I can tell he’s pulled his knees up, like he’s trying to hug himself. I wish I could be there. I miss him so fucking much.

“I might be able to take a couple weeks off after this contract. Like a vacation before the partial term? I could come see you.”

It would gut us both if he did that, and we both know it. Saying goodbye after two days tore us apart. Still, I try to be encouraging. “See? Possibilities.”

If the darkness wasn’t lingering, I might actually feel good about this. December is far away—far, far away—but it’s also a set date. A promise that we would be together at the end of it.

He looks offscreen, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft, pained. “I know the timing sucks, but I thought you’d be happier.”

I sigh. “I am, Miles. Really. It sounds great, and I would love for you to be here that long.”

“But?”

“There’s no buts. It’s just been an off day.”

He’s quiet, like he wants to ask if it’s my depression, but he doesn’t, and I love that about him. He gives me the space I need, when I need it.

“Speaking of which, I have news too.”

“Oh?”

“I made the appointment with my psychiatrist.”

His jaw drops. “Really?”

“I should’ve days ago.” More like years ago. “But yeah. It’s in three weeks.”

“Jordan! That’s good!”

I swallow hard, rubbing my chest. The weight is unbearable now that I’ve noticed it again. “Yeah. Hopefully.”

“It is. It’s a step.”

He doesn’t overdo it. Doesn’t try to fill the space with overzealous praise or encouragement. Just says it plain, which somehow makes it sink in.

He’s right. It is a step.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“I know you will. I trust you.”

His words wrap around me like a hug.

He gasps suddenly, eyes going wide. “Oh my gosh, Lily is on the bed with me,” he whispers. “This is the closest she’s gotten since I came back.”

I chuckle.

He covers his mouth. “You need to see this.” He flips the camera around, showing Lily sitting tall and pretty near his socked foot, with her black tail wrapped around her feet.

“That’s some suspicious eye contact.”

“Right?” He lowers his voice. “I should be worried, shouldn’t I?”

“Definitely. She’s deciding if you get to live.”

Miles says nothing. Then, as if her silent treatment meant nothing all week, Lily plops down next to Miles’ leg with her back facing him.

He gasps and flips his camera around again. “Did you see that?”

I laugh. “I did. She’s going to let you live another day.”

“She is! Aren’t you relieved?”

“Very.”

Miles has a dopey, relieved grin on his face as he watches his cat, and it warms my heart. The silence between us is comfortable, like we’re sitting side by side on the couch, not states apart. But it fills me with longing. I wish we really could be together.

“I tried to write again today,” I say finally. “Nothing came out.”

“That’s okay,” Miles replies. “You don’t owe the world a poem every day.”

I swallow. “It’s not the world I feel like I’m letting down.”

The blanket shifts, and then his head hits the pillow again.

He props the phone up, just like we used to.

“You’re allowed to just be , Jordan. There’s no pressure.

You promised you’d try, not that you’d have it all figured out.

And you made an appointment. That’s a big step. Give yourself more time.”