A few people laughed awkwardly. The rest shifted in silence.
My face burned. I wanted to vanish.
Advertisement
Jordan squeezed my hand under the table and leaned in quietly.
“Don’t let it get to you.”
“How can I not? That’s my father, and what he just said…”
“I know,” he said calmly. “But trust me, life is easier when you let ugly remarks go.”
That calmness frustrated me. Not because he was wrong — but because I could hear what he wasn’t saying.
Advertisement
I’m used to it.
It’s nothing new.
I’ve survived worse.
And that realization hurt more than my father’s “joke.”
Advertisement
Things only got worse from there.
Jordan had grown up in an orphanage after being abandoned by his biological parents. I used to think that detail would make people soften toward him — maybe even admire what he overcame.
My parents didn’t.
