Chapter 132 Boundaries

Chapter 132 Boundaries
Chapter Thirty-Three

Charlie

Saturday mornings are usually reserved for sleeping in.

Today, I’m standing outside a diner at ten o’clock, wondering why Jordan’s text had sounded so…serious.

\[Lunch? Just us.\]

No explanation.

No joke.

Just four words.

When I step inside, I spot him immediately.

He’s already seated in a booth by the window, stirring a cup of coffee he clearly has no interest in drinking.

I slide into the seat across from him. “You look like someone died.”

Jordan snorts. “Good morning to you too.”

“I try.”

A waitress appears, takes my order, and disappears just as quickly.

For a few moments, neither of us says anything.

Jordan keeps turning his coffee mug a quarter turn every few seconds.

Finally, I lean back. “All right.”

He looks up.

“What’s going on?”

He lets out a long breath. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“I learned it from you.”

“I walked right into that one.”

A ghost of a smile crosses his face before fading again. “I wanted to talk.”

“I’m listening.”

He studies me for a moment. “You’ve been around a lot lately.”

“I have.”

“My dad…” He trails off. “…He’s happier.”

The words catch me off guard.

Jordan stares out the window before continuing.

“I didn’t realize how tired he looked until he stopped looking that way.”

I don’t know what to say.

“He laughs more.”

Jordan smiles faintly.

“He smiles for no reason.”

Another pause.

“I haven’t seen that in a really long time.”

I look down at the table.

“I’m glad.”

“So am I.”

The waitress returns with my breakfast.

Neither of us touches our food immediately.

Jordan waits until she leaves as he stares down at his coffee for a long moment before speaking again.

"You know my dad's been through a lot."

I nod.

"I know."

He shakes his head.

"I don't think you do. Not all of it."

His fingers tighten slightly around the mug.

"Not just relationships."

His voice is quiet now.

"But especially raising me by himself."

He lets out a slow breath.

"He was barely more than a kid himself, and suddenly he had to be everything.”

"A parent."

"The provider."

"The one who never fell apart because there wasn't anyone else to pick up the pieces."

I stay silent, letting him continue.

"I don't remember most of it."

"I was too young."

"But I know enough."

"I've heard the stories."

"I've seen the pictures."

"I've watched him spend my entire life making sure everyone around him was okay before he ever thought about himself."

Jordan finally looks up at me.

"He's always had to be strong."

His expression softens.

"But..."

"I don't want him to have to be anymore."

The words settle heavily between us.

"I want him to learn how to relax."

"How to lean on someone else for a change."

A small smile flickers across his face.

"I hope you're strong enough to take that on."

Emotion catches unexpectedly in my throat.

"I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be."

Jordan studies me for several seconds.

Then he nods once. "Good."

Another quiet moment passes before his expression becomes just a little more serious.

"If you ever hurt him..."

He doesn't raise his voice.

He doesn't have to.

"I'll hurt you."

I don't hesitate.

"Fair."

His eyebrows lift.

"That's it?"

"What else am I supposed to say? I can't promise life will never be difficult."

I meet his eyes. "But I can promise I'll never stop choosing him."

Jordan holds my gaze for another moment before a slow smile spreads across his face.

"I figured you'd say something like that."

"So..."

He points a French fry at me. "One more question."

I groan. "I knew there was a catch."

Jordan grins. "You like old guys, huh?"

I nearly choke on my coffee. “Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“You walked me straight into a heartfelt speech just to ask me that?”

“I’m genuinely curious.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I’m serious.”

I rub a hand across my face. “I don’t think about it like that.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So what do you think?”

I don’t even have to consider my answer. “I think about Cade.”

Jordan watches me carefully.

“It’s never been about age.”

I shrug. “It’s him.”

“The way he laughs.”

“The way he worries about everyone.”

“The way he somehow remembers everybody’s birthday.”

“The way he pretends he doesn’t like being fussed over.”

A smile tugs at my mouth. “The way he thanks people for things they wanted to do anyway.”

Jordan chuckles. “Yeah.”

“He’s just…” I search for the right word. “Him.”

Jordan is quiet for several seconds.

Finally, he nods. “Good answer.”

“I didn’t know this was a test.”

“It absolutely was.”

I groan. “I passed?”

“Barely.”

We both laugh.

The tension that had followed us into the diner finally dissolves.

By the time breakfast is over, we’re talking about everything except serious life conversations.

Sports.

Movies.

A disastrous attempt Jordan made at cooking spaghetti last week.

“You burned water,” I remind him.

“I maintain the pot was defective.”

“The pot was innocent.”

“You weren’t there.”

“I’ve seen the pictures.”

Jordan shakes his head dramatically. “I knew I shouldn’t have sent those.”

“You absolutely should have.”

He pays the bill before I can argue.

Outside, the winter air is crisp enough to sting my cheeks.

We stand beside our cars for a moment.

Jordan shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. “One more thing.”

“There’s always one more thing.”

“If you ever need help…” He shrugs. “…with the baby.”

I smile. “I’ll ask.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

He nods once. “I just figured…”

His voice softens. “…that kid’s already going to have a lot of people who love them.”

My chest tightens. “They will.”

Jordan smiles. “Good.”

He opens his car door before looking back one last time. “Oh.”

“What?”

“If my dad tells you he’s ‘fine’…”

I laugh.

“…He’s probably not.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I plan to.”

Jordan climbs into his car.

As I watch him drive away, I realize something I hadn’t fully understood until now.

Today’s lunch wasn’t about permission.

It wasn’t about approval.

It wasn’t even about me.

It was about Cade.

About the people who love him wanting to make sure he’ll never have to carry everything by himself again.

I stand in the parking lot for another minute before pulling out my phone.

Me: \[How are you feeling today?\]

The reply comes a few minutes later.

Cade: \[Still tired.\]

Another message follows almost immediately.

\[But…happy.\]

I smile before typing back.

\[Good. Rest today.\]

\[That’s doctor’s orders?\]

\[No. Mine.\]

Three dots appear.

Then:

\[Bossy.\]

My grin widens.

\[Someone has to be.\]

A few seconds later, a laughing emoji pops onto my screen.

It’s a tiny thing.

Barely a conversation.

But somehow, it feels like the beginning of something beautifully ordinary.

And for the first time in a long time, ordinary sounds perfect.