002-THE SHOCK
1487 Words
JORDAN
“What the hell…” I whispered to myself as I stumbled out of that classroom, heart pounding like I’d just seen a ghost.
Because I had.
Olivia.
That was her.
Same grey eyes. Same dark waves of hair. The same tiny curve at the corner of her mouth when she frowned in concentration. My mind was racing so fast it hurt.
She couldn’t be here. She couldn’t even be alive.
“F—” I caught myself and pressed a hand to my forehead, trying to breathe. No way. No damn way.
The Olivia I knew had been gone for three years. Gone and buried. I’d held her picture, her memory, our son. I’d built my entire life around the fact that she wasn’t coming back.
So who the hell was the girl in Psych class?
By the time I got to my car, my hands were shaking. I gripped the steering wheel and stared out the windshield, but my head wasn’t in that parking lot. It was back in the past—back in that mansion, back in that room, back when everything started.
I’d been eighteen. Taking a year off after high school to make some money before college. My parents weren’t poor, but we weren’t comfortable either. My dad was a mechanic, my mom worked part-time at the library, and my sister Jemima was still in high school.
When I heard about the Carter family hiring someone to take care of their lawn for the summer—two months, three grand—I jumped on it. Easy work, good pay. I didn’t know I was signing up to have my whole world rewritten.
Because that’s where I met her. Olivia Carter.
She was the kind of girl you weren’t supposed to even look at if you valued your job. The rich man’s daughter, with eyes that dared you to break every rule.
I tried to stay away. I really did. But one afternoon, she brought me lemonade, and the way she smiled made me forget how to breathe.
We fell hard. Fast. Stupid. We thought love could protect us from everything.
And then she got pregnant.
Her parents found out, and suddenly I wasn’t her boyfriend—I was the monster who ruined their perfect daughter. They had me arrested for assaulting her. The story spread like wildfire. My mom cried every night. I spent eight months in a cell before the charges vanished out of nowhere.
When my mom came to pick me up, she was holding a baby boy—our baby.
“His name is Alex,” she told me through tears. “Olivia… she didn’t make it. She died in labor.”
I’d stood there, numb, holding this tiny, wriggling miracle that looked just like her. That day, I promised two things: to raise him well, and never to hate her for leaving me behind.
And now, three years later, she was here. Or someone who looked exactly like her.
I slammed my palm against the steering wheel. “What the hell is happening?”
The only thing I knew was that I needed to see Alex.
I drove straight to my parents’ house. Alex stayed there during the week while I handled school. He was only three, and I picked him up on weekends so he wouldn’t forget that I was his dad.
Mom was in the kitchen when I got there, trying to convince Alex to eat. He was sitting at the table, toy cars scattered around, shaking his head stubbornly.
“Come on, sweetheart, just two more bites,” Mom said patiently.
“No,” Alex said with that tiny pout that always reminded me of her.
The moment he saw me, his whole face lit up. “Daddy!”
And just like that, the world slowed down. I dropped my bag and scooped him into my arms. “Hey, champ! Missed me?”
He nodded hard. “You late.”
I laughed. “I know. College is boring.”
He looked serious. “Boring bad.”
“Yeah, boring is very bad,” I agreed, tickling him until he squealed.
Mom chuckled. “See? You just had to walk in and now he’s all smiles.”
“That’s because he knows who gives the best airplane rides,” I said, making whooshing noises as I lifted him up. He giggled so loudly it made my chest ache in the best way.
I sat down with him at the table, took the spoon from Mom, and scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Open up, pilot. The plane’s coming in hot.”
He laughed but opened his mouth, eating happily.
Mom shook her head with a fond sigh. “He eats for you but not for me. Spoiled boy.”
“Not spoiled,” Alex mumbled through his food. “I daddy’s boy.”
My throat tightened. “Yeah, you are.”
When he finished eating, I set him on my lap and kissed the top of his head. He smelled like soap. For a while, everything felt normal again. Then Mom asked, “How was class today?”
I froze.
“Uh… it was fine.”
She gave me that look that meant don’t lie to me. “Jordan.”
I hesitated, rubbing Alex’s back. “I saw someone today.”
“Someone?”
I nodded slowly. “She looked exactly like Olivia.”
Mom went still. “What?”
“Same face. Same everything. It’s impossible, I know, but—”
“Jordan!” Her voice shot up, startling Alex. He covered his ears. I hushed him and looked at her.
“Mom, calm down.”
She shook her head, eyes wide. “You mean she’s alive?”
“I don’t know,” I said quickly. “I don’t even know if it’s her. Maybe it’s someone who just looks like her.”
Mom pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh Lord. After all this time…”
I tried to laugh it off, but my voice came out thin. “Yeah. Crazy, right?”
She looked at me like she could see through me. “You’re thinking about going after her.”
I didn’t answer.
“Jordan,” she said softly, “don’t. Please. You’ve built a life. You have Alex. Don’t go tearing open old wounds.”
“I’m not trying to,” I said, though even I didn’t believe it. “I just… I need to know who she is. That’s all.”
“That’s not all,” she said. “You still love her.”
I didn’t deny it. How could I?
Mom sighed, sitting down across from me. “Some things are better left buried, sweetheart. If she’s gone, let her stay gone.”
I nodded slowly, but inside, something burned. That wasn’t closure. That was surrender. And I wasn’t ready to surrender to ghosts.
Alex tugged on my sleeve. “Daddy sad?”
I smiled and kissed his forehead. “No, buddy. Daddy’s just thinking.”
He pressed his tiny palm against my cheek. “No think. Play cars.”
That made me laugh for real. “You’re right. Cars first.”
He scrambled down from my lap and ran to grab his toy cars. The little red one was his favorite. I watched him race it across the floor, making engine sounds, and for a few minutes I let myself just be there. Watching him, breathing, remembering why I kept going.
Later that night, after I put Alex to bed and kissed his forehead, I stood at the door of his room, listening to him hum himself to sleep. His hair was getting longer; I needed to cut it this weekend. He looked so much like her when he slept that it physically hurt sometimes.
Mom was in the living room, pretending to read, but I could tell she was waiting for me.
“Jordan,” she said as soon as I sat down. “Promise me you won’t go chasing shadows.”
I stared at the floor. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
She sighed. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I can’t promise I won’t look,” I said quietly. “I saw her, Mom. Or someone who looks just like her. You’d want to know too.”
Her eyes softened. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”
I nodded. “I know.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “Then go slow. And remember, you have a little boy who needs his dad more than he needs answers.”
“I know,” I said again, meaning it.
Maybe I was going insane. Maybe grief was finally catching up with me.
But no. That wasn’t some hallucination. She was real. Flesh and blood.
And if she wasn’t my Olivia, then who the hell was she?
- Writer
