Episode 12
Part 60: The Return Home
Jadon stepped off the JetBlue flight at JFK, his legs stiff from the five-hour journey. The terminal buzzed with life, a stark contrast to the peaceful beaches he’d just left behind. He felt a pang of loss as he walked toward immigration, his mind racing with thoughts of what he’d left in Barbados.
The immigration officer greeted him with a polite smile, took his passport, and handed it back with a casual, “Welcome home.”
Jadon nodded, murmuring, “Thank you,” but the word “home” gnawed at him. Home? It felt foreign, hollow. The apartment he was returning to didn’t feel like home anymore, it was a tomb of pain and memories. He resolved to redefine the word. For now, “home” would simply mean work. Nothing else.
After collecting his luggage, Jadon followed the signs to the AirTrain, navigating the chaos of the airport with practiced ease. He picked up his rental car, eager to be behind the wheel of a car with real power, but the adjustment to driving a left-hand drive again caught him off guard. When he tried to signal a lane change, the windshield wipers sprang to life.
Jadon laughed out loud, breaking through the tension that had gripped him since he boarded the plane.
As he pulled into the driveway of his apartment building in White Plains, New York, a wave of unease washed over him. The air was still, and the familiar building loomed before him like a prison. He unlocked the apartment door, stepped inside, and flipped on the lights.
The sight stopped him cold.
The apartment was a mess. It was as if time had stopped the day his wife and son died. He walked through the living room, the silence oppressive, the air thick with the ghosts of his grief. The walls, once adorned with warmth and love, now stared back at him, cold and barren.
Jadon stood in the middle of the room, surveying the wreckage of his life. It was like looking at a stranger’s existence, a broken man’s story etched into every detail. The weight of it all crashed over him like a wave.
But then something shifted.
He took a deep breath and looked around again, this time with clarity. This wasn’t him anymore. That island, those people, Nadia, they had pulled him out of the darkness. He wasn’t the man who had left this place behind months ago.
He felt it in his bones: the trip had saved his life.
Jadon whispered to himself, “This isn’t my home anymore.”
His resolve solidified as he set his suitcase down. He would sell this place, leave it all behind, and start anew. No more prisons. No more shadows.
This was the beginning of something different. Something better.
Part 61: Return to Skyline
Jadon stepped into the buzzing Skyline Entertainment Group office, greeted by warm smiles and handshakes from staffers who seemed genuinely happy to see him back. The energy felt revitalizing, a stark contrast to the weight he'd been carrying when he left for Barbados. He nodded and exchanged pleasantries, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as he made his way to Malcolm’s office.
Malcolm was already on his feet when Jadon walked in, arms wide, a big grin stretched across his face. “Well, look at you!” he said, pulling Jadon into a bear hug. “You look good, man. That trip really agreed with you.”
Jadon laughed lightly. “Yeah, it did me a lot of good.”
“Good, good. I’m glad.” Malcolm studied him for a moment, his tone softening. “You had me worried for a while there, my guy.”
“I know, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Ah, no need to apologize. After all you’ve been through?” Malcolm waved it off before motioning for Jadon to sit. “Now, let’s get down to it. Let me fill you in on what’s been happening while you were out recharging.”
Jadon listened intently as Malcolm outlined the agency’s scouting efforts. “We’ve been to eight countries in the region,” Malcolm said. “Most of those prospects didn’t pan out, but we did find some promising talent in Trinidad, Grenada, and Jamaica. I’ll be honest, though… I like what you sent me.”
Jadon leaned forward. “Really? That’s good to hear. Who stood out to you?”
Malcolm grinned. “The Jamaican guy? He’s solid. His music is good, but I’m not completely sold yet.”
Jadon raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“It’s good, but it feels too traditional,” Malcolm replied. “Don’t get me wrong, the guy’s talented, but I don’t know if he’s got crossover appeal.”
Jadon nodded, filing the feedback away.
Malcolm continued, “Now, the two Trini girls? Beautiful, great voices, but they only do soca. And as much as I love the energy of soca, it’s not big here in the States. We’d have to rebrand them completely, and that’s a risk I’m not sure we want to take.”
Jadon frowned slightly but stayed quiet.
“Your girl Nikki, though?” Malcolm leaned back, folding his arms. “She’s got the look, no doubt about it. Sex appeal?! Through the roof. Her voice... it’s passable. With some polish, I think we can make it work.”
Jadon was taken aback. “You like Nikki?”
“I do. I wasn’t expecting to, but she’s got that raw energy. There’s something there, Jadon. But those other two you sent, Marcus and Lyric?” Malcolm shook his head. “Spoken word it’s old school… doesn’t translate, you know that. It’s niche. And the market here... it’s not big on that.”
Jadon interjected, “But that’s just part of what they do! Malcolm, they’re versatile. They don’t just do spoken word, they’ve got Afrobeat tracks, hip-hop, even some jazz influence.”
“Yeah, but it’s all in that heavy Bajan accent,” Malcolm countered. “That’s a tough sell, Jadon. Trust me. I know you’re passionate about them, but I don’t see it working.”
Jadon felt the disappointment sink in. Malcolm’s words were firm. It was a hard “no” on Marcus and Lyric, and Jadon hated the thought of letting them down. But he also knew Malcolm wasn’t wrong. He resolved to find a way to soften the blow for them later.
Then Jadon remembered why he was excited to be back.
“Wait,” Jadon said, reaching for his tablet. “I’ve got something else for you to see.”
Malcolm tilted his head curiously as Jadon hit play on a video. The screen lit up with Crystal’s performance of All At Once. Her voice filled the room, pure and unpolished, yet brimming with potential. Malcolm leaned forward, his eyes widening.
“Wow,” Malcolm said, almost in a whisper. “She’s definitely not what I had in mind, but my God... get this kid a contract. ASAP.”
Jadon couldn’t help but smile. “Right? She’s incredible.”
“She’s more than incredible,” Malcolm said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Tell me more about her. Where did you find this girl?”
Jadon leaned back, grinning as he recounted the story of how he stumbled upon Crystal. Malcolm listened, enthralled, and for the first time in weeks, Jadon felt like he was exactly where he needed to be.
Part 62: Broken Promises
Jadon sat quietly on the flight to Barbados, the hum of the plane’s engine a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind. This was the part of the job he dreaded, the quiet cruelty of breaking dreams. He couldn’t bear to deliver the news to Marcus, Lyric, and Nikki over the phone. They deserved better.
When the plane landed at Grantley Adams International Airport, Jadon felt the warmth of the Caribbean sun wash over him, but it did little to ease the knot in his stomach. He rented a car and drove toward Bridgetown, rehearsing his words over and over.
He met Marcus and Lyric at a small café near the port, their favorite spot for writing and performing. They greeted him with smiles, clearly hopeful for good news. Jadon felt like the air was being squeezed from his lungs as they sat down.
“Fellas,” Jadon started, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “I want you to know how much I believe in what you’re doing. You’ve got something special.”
Marcus exchanged a glance with Lyric, their smiles faltering slightly. “But…” Lyric prompted.
Jadon sighed. “Malcolm’s not moving forward with the contract.”
The silence at the table was deafening. Marcus leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed as he processed the words. Lyric stared at his drink, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
“I fought for you guys,” Jadon continued. “I truly did. But Malcolm doesn’t think spoken word will translate in the U.S. market. And he thinks the Bajan accent in your music might make it harder to connect with audiences there.”
“That’s…frustrating,” Lyric said softly. “But I get it.”
Marcus nodded, his jaw tightening. “It’s not the first ‘no’ we’ve heard, and it won’t be the last.”
“You’re both incredibly talented,” Jadon said, leaning forward. “This isn’t the end. It’s just…not the right time with Skyline.”
“We appreciate you coming to tell us in person,” Marcus said after a long pause. “It means a lot.”
Lyric managed a small smile. “You’re still our guy, Jadon. Don’t think this changes that.”
Jadon exhaled, a mix of relief and guilt washing over him. “Thanks for understanding. And I’ll do everything I can to help you find the right opportunity.”
Later that afternoon, Jadon made his way to Nikki’s apartment. He hesitated at her door, running through the words he needed to say. With a deep breath, he knocked.
Nikki opened the door with a wide grin. “Jadon! I wasn’t expecting you. Come in!”
Her enthusiasm made Jadon’s chest tighten. He stepped inside and took a seat, but Nikki quickly sensed something was off.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her smile fading.
Jadon leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Nikki, I came here because I didn’t want to tell you this over the phone.”
Her face fell as she sat across from him, bracing herself. “Tell me what?”
“Malcolm decided not to sign you,” Jadon said gently.
“What?” Nikki blinked, her voice rising in disbelief. “What do you mean? You said I had this, Jadon!”
“I know,” Jadon said quickly. “And I believed it. I still do. But Malcolm…” He paused, trying to find the right words. “He’s not convinced you’re ready yet. He thinks your voice needs more polish.”
Nikki stared at him, her expression hardening. “So that’s it? After everything? After you told me I was in?”
“I fought for you, Nikki. I really did.”
Nikki stood abruptly, pacing the room. “You fought for me? Really? Because it sounds like you just gave up the minute he said no. You let me believe this was happening, Jadon!”
Jadon stood, his hands outstretched. “Nikki, I didn’t want this to happen. I thought… ”
“You thought what?” she interrupted, her voice trembling. “That you could just fix this with an apology? You don’t get it, Jadon. This is my life. You dangled this in front of me and then took it away because, what? Someone better came along?”
“That’s not what happened!” Jadon defended. “This isn’t about Crystal… ”
“Don’t lie to me, Jadon!” Nikki snapped, her voice breaking. “First, you chose her over me…Nadia, the perfect little island girl who just swept you off your feet. And now this? You’re doing it again. You found someone better, and I’m just…I’m just leftovers to you.”
Jadon froze, stunned. “Nikki, that’s not fair. Nadia…”
“Don’t,” she interrupted sharply. “Don’t even bring her name into this. You led me on twice now. First with you, and then with this contract. I trusted you, Jadon. I thought you were different, but you’re just like everyone else. Selfish.”
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to respond but found he had nothing to say.
Nikki shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t call me again, Jadon. You’ve done enough.”
She walked to the door and held it open, her face set with a mix of anger and heartbreak. Jadon hesitated, his own guilt weighing heavily on him, before stepping outside.
The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed in his chest. As he walked back to his car, Nikki’s words replayed in his mind. Selfish.
He’d heard it before. From his late wife. From others. And now, from Nikki. Each time, it hit harder.
Jadon leaned against the car and exhaled deeply. He had tried to change, to be better. But maybe Nikki was right. Maybe he was still the man he had been running from.
Part 63: Reunions
Jadon felt the weight of the envelope in his hand as he walked up the stairs to Roach’s apartment. The door was slightly ajar, letting the cool island breeze flow through. He knocked twice and then stepped inside. Roach was sprawled on his couch, flipping through channels, a cold beer resting on the table next to him.
“Jadon?” Roach sat up, surprised. “Man, good to see you, bro! You back already? Thought you’d be gone for a while.”
Jadon shook his hand and gave him a quick hug. “Yeah, I’m back. Had a few things to sort out.”
“Good trip?” Roach asked, his sharp eyes scanning Jadon.
Jadon shrugged. “It was…complicated.” He sat down and studied his friend. “How about you? How’re you feeling? You good?”
Roach leaned back, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Feeling alright, and yeah, I’m safe. Everything’s quiet and I haven’t seen Cyrus since… well, you know.”
Jadon nodded, relieved. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the envelope. He handed it to Roach, who looked at it in confusion.
“What’s this?” Roach asked, opening the flap to reveal the wad of cash inside.
“It’s for you,” Jadon said simply.
“Cash?” Roach frowned, holding up the envelope. “What for? You already paid me, man. You don’t owe me anything.”
Jadon smiled faintly. “Call it a bonus. For everything you’ve done. For looking out for me.”
Roach smirked, shaking his head. “Man, you’re too good for this business, you know that right? But thanks. I appreciate it.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of the wind filling the room.
“I spoke with Lyric and Marcus,” Jadon said after a while, his tone somber.
Roach gave him a knowing look. “Yeah, I heard.”
Jadon hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “What about Nikki?”
Roach shook his head. “Haven’t heard from her.”
Jadon sighed heavily, leaning forward. “Man, I feel like shit.”
Roach leaned over and clapped a hand on Jadon’s shoulder. “Bro, Nikki’ll make you feel like that. But remember, she’s got money, she’ll be alright. The other kid you found? She’s scrubbing toilets. You can actually help her.”
Jadon nodded, Roach’s words resonating with him.
There conversation is cut short as their attention turns to the live press conference unfolding on tv.
The camera panned across the imposing facade of the Bridgetown Police Headquarters, its emblem gleaming under the evening sun. The scene was tense, electric with anticipation, as the camera settled on a poised news anchor standing in front of a podium set for the police spokesperson to speak.
"Good evening, Barbados," the anchor began, his voice measured yet heavy with the weight of the news he delivered. "The disappearance of two police officers from the Oistins Police Station has sent shockwaves throughout the island. Constables Weeks and Harris went off duty several weeks ago, and since then, there has been no trace of them. Their families remain desperate for answers, and tonight, the Barbados Police Service is addressing the nation."
As the camera cut to the podium, Inspector Holder stepped forward, his expression grave. The gathered press leaned in, waiting for his words.
"As of this moment, Constables Weeks and Harris remain missing," Holder stated firmly. "The Barbados Police Service is fully committed to finding them and determining exactly what transpired. We are exhausting every resource available, working alongside forensic experts and conducting extensive searches."
The anchor's voice cut in again, narrating over the live feed. "Despite ongoing investigations, the circumstances surrounding the officers’ disappearance remain unclear. Authorities have ruled out voluntary absence."
The screen switched to Lisa Brathwaite from Nation News, gripping her microphone tightly as she leaned forward. "Inspector, is there any indication that their disappearance was voluntary?"
Holder's jaw tightened as he responded, his voice resolute. "We have no reason to believe that either officer would abandon their duty or their families without cause. This is being treated as a case of suspicious disappearance."
A CBC News reporter stepped into the frame next. "Inspector, given the recent uptick in crime, is it possible they were targeted because of their work?"
Holder exhaled sharply. "That is one of many angles we are exploring. The safety of our officers is paramount, and if foul play is involved, those responsible will be brought to justice."
The camera shifted, showing the murmuring crowd of reporters before another journalist interjected. "Inspector, there are rumors that this may be linked to organized crime. Any comment?"
Holder squared his shoulders. "We are not in the business of speculation. This is an active investigation, and I will not comment on theories without evidence to support them. However, let me be clear… no one is above the law. If there are individuals who think they can act with impunity, they will soon learn otherwise."
The camera zoomed in slightly, capturing the weight of Holder’s words. A final question came from a reporter near the back. "Inspector, what message do you have for the families of the missing officers?"
Holder’s tone softened. "To their families, I say this: we will not rest until we find them. We understand your pain, your fear, and your frustration. We are committed to bringing you answers."
As the broadcast neared its conclusion, the anchor reappeared on screen. "While the investigation continues, the nation watches and waits for any sign of Constables Weeks and Harris. Reporting live from Bridgetown, this is BNC News."
The screen faded to black, the words ‘Breaking News’ flashing ominously before disappearing into darkness followed by commercials.
Across from him, Roach exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Shit. This is bad, Jay. Real bad."
Jadon turned to him, his voice lower than a whisper. "Yeah, I know. The Inspector, Holder. He was there that night. He was in on it.
Roach swallowed hard. He had always known there were consequences to being around Cyrus, but this…this was beyond anything he had prepared for.
"We need to be smart about this," he said finally. "Keep our heads down. Watch our backs.
Roach leaned back again changing the subject. “Your girl know you here?”
Jadon glanced out the window, avoiding his friend’s gaze. “No, I didn’t tell her.”
Roach chuckled. “Well, a lil birdie told me she’s doing a photoshoot down on the boardwalk this evening.”
Jadon looked up sharply, his heart skipping a beat.
*****
That evening, Jadon walked along the boardwalk, the salty air filling his lungs. He spotted Nadia in the distance, her camera slung around her neck as she directed her clients with a confident smile. She seemed to glow, the setting sun’s golden light wrapping around her and lending her an almost luminous presence. He didn’t interrupt, instead sitting on a bench nearby and watching quietly as she worked. She seemed happy, in her element, and he didn’t want to disrupt her.
When the session ended, Nadia packed up her equipment, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she strolled down the boardwalk. Jadon rose and followed her closing the distance between them, his heart pounding.
“Nadia,” he called softly.
She froze at the sound of his voice. The familiar tone sending a shiver down her spine. Her whole body stiffened, and she didn’t need to turn to know it was him, she recognized his voice instantly, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over her.
Before she could move, he was there, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
Her lips curved into a soft smile as her eyes fluttered closed, savoring the feel of his embrace. “Jadon,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but heavy with emotion.
He rested his chin lightly on her shoulder, his breath warm against her ear. “I’m here,” he said, gently tightening his hold.
She reached up to touch his hand, her smile widening as her voice came soft and steady. “I knew you’d come back.”
Nadia turned to face him, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, as if memorizing the scent of him, the feel of him. “I needed this. I needed you.”
Jadon kissed her and pulled her close again. For the first time in weeks, everything felt right.
They didn’t say another word as they walked arm in arm down the boardwalk, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. It was as if the world around them disappeared, leaving only the sound of the waves and the quiet, unspoken promise between them.
Part 64: The Weight of Decisions
Jadon had never spent the night at Nadia’s place until now. There was a noticeable change to her studio apartment; her home, though modest, was warm and now filled with subtle touches of her personality, bright curtains framing the windows, shelves lined with books and photographs, and the faint aroma of lavender in the air.
As sunlight filtered through the curtains that morning, she climbed back into bed, wrapping herself around him.
He stared at the ceiling, his mind heavy with thoughts about Marcus, Lyric, and Nikki. Nadia rested her head on his chest, sensing his turmoil. “You’re thinking about them again, aren’t you?” she said softly.
“Yeah,” Jadon admitted. “Opportunities like this don’t come around often for them. They trusted me. I feel like I let them down.”
She tilted her head to look at him. “Your hands were tied, Jadon. It’s not like you didn’t fight for them.”
“I know,” he replied, sighing. “But they don’t have the connections I have. They don’t have a Malcolm backing them. And when you’re coming from a place like here, it’s just so much harder to get a second chance.”
Nadia ran her fingers through his hair, her voice gentle but firm. “Jadon, you can’t carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders. You did what you could. You gave them a chance. That’s more than most would do. Besides, this isn’t over for them…or for you.”
Jadon thought about her words and then confessed, “I haven’t even told Crystal we chose her yet.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m waiting for Malcolm to change his mind. But I’m going to tell her the good news tomorrow,” he said.
Nadia sat up and studied him. “Or maybe you don’t sign her. At least, not yet.”
He frowned. “What are you saying?”
“I think you have the artists and the leverage,” she explained. “You could always give Malcolm an ultimatum.”
Jadon shook his head. “Nah, Malcolm’s been good to me. I don’t want to go up against him.”
“All I’m saying is force his hand,” Nadia pressed. “You have what he needs. If he can’t see the value in Nikki because he’s blinded by Crystal’s potential, it tells me he’s not the visionary you are. Jadon, I’ve watched you work. I’ve seen how you find talent and connect with people. You’re good at what you do. Trust your gut. Do what’s right.”
Jadon didn’t respond immediately, but her words stuck with him.
The next day, Jadon and Nadia made their way to Lemon Arbor for lunch. As he drove through the serene parish of St. John, Jadon felt some of the weight ease from his shoulders. The rolling hills, framed by sugar cane fields and clusters of mango trees, stretched endlessly. The rural charm of Lemon Arbor a countryside community stood in sharp contrast to the busyness of his life in New York.
When they arrived, the rum shop was already buzzing with activity. Locals gathered at weathered wooden tables under the open-air canopy, sipping on drinks and chatting as the scent of grilled pig tails and pudding and souse filled the air. The small shop overlooked a stunning vista of the east coast, where the Atlantic winds whispered through the trees.
Jadon inhaled deeply, letting the salty breeze and earthy aroma wash over him. “A few months ago, I barely knew this place existed,” he said, exhaling slowly. “Now I can’t get enough of it.”
“Or me,” Nadia teased, bumping him playfully with her shoulder.
Jadon laughed. “Definitely you.”
As they settled at a table, Crystal arrived. Dressed casually in a floral top and jeans, her youthful energy filled the space. She looked around hesitantly before spotting Jadon and Nadia.
Jadon greeted her warmly. “Crystal, thanks for meeting us here.”
She smiled nervously. “Of course. What’s up?”
Jadon leaned forward, his tone calm and reassuring. “I wanted to talk to you about what’s next. Crystal, you’re going to be highly sought after… I know that. But this process isn’t always fast. It’s not always easy. I need you to be patient and trust me. I’ll make sure you get the right deal. But it’s important that we do this the right way.”
Crystal looked unsure but nodded slowly. “You really think people will want me?”
“Absolutely,” Jadon said, his conviction firm. “You’re going to get a recording deal but it has to be right for you. This isn’t just about you anymore. I want to meet with your family. We need to talk about what this means and what to expect moving forward.”
Her face softened, a small smile forming. “Okay. I trust you.”
Jadon glanced at Nadia, who gave him an encouraging nod.
As the three of them continued talking, Jadon felt a newfound sense of clarity. Nadia’s presence grounded him, her unwavering faith in him filling the void he hadn’t even realized was there. With her by his side, he knew he was making the right decisions; for Crystal, for himself, and for the future he was starting to envision.
Part 65: Echoes of Hope
Jadon leaned against the balcony railing of Nadia’s apartment, staring out at the evening glow settling over the trendy south coast. The rhythmic hum of life on the island surrounded him, but his thoughts were fixed solely on her. Nadia sat curled on the couch behind him, her legs tucked beneath her, watching him intently.
“You know,” she began softly, “you’ve changed everything for me.”
Jadon turned, intrigued. “How do you mean?”
She gestured toward her apartment…small, simple, but now meticulously cared for. “This place. My life. Before you showed up, I didn’t see a way out of what I’d been stuck in. It was the same thing, day in and day out. Now… you’ve made me believe there’s more.”
Jadon walked back inside and sat beside her. “I haven’t done anything. That’s all you, Nadia.”
“No, Jadon.” She reached for his hand, her touch warm and steady. “You gave me hope… something I didn’t even realize I needed.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of her words settling between them. Jadon glanced at her thoughtfully before his eyes dropped to the faint stretch marks that peeked out from beneath her tank top. He hesitated, then asked, “Nadia… the pregnancy?”
She froze for a beat, startled by the question. “What? I’m not pregnant!”
“No, you know what I mean,” Jadon said gently. He nodded toward her marks, his voice careful. “You’ve never talked about it. I never asked, but… I want to understand.”
Her expression faltered, and her gaze turned glassy. “I was waiting for this, I figured you would’ve asked sooner but here we are,” she whispered with a bitter smile. “I knew you’d notice eventually.”
“Nadia, you don’t have to…”
“No. It’s okay.” She inhaled deeply, her voice quiet but steady as she continued. “Years ago, I was pregnant. It wasn’t planned, and I was scared out of my mind, but… I loved that baby. I loved the idea of what we could’ve been.”
Her voice trembled, and Jadon instinctively squeezed her hand. “I had a stillbirth at eight months. Went into premature labor one night, and just like that, the baby was gone...”
“I had a stillbirth,” she said, her voice even but her eyes glassy. “I was so young, Jadon. Just nineteen. I wasn’t ready for a baby, and neither was the father. But when I lost my baby boy…” She paused, swallowing hard. “It broke me. The doctors couldn’t even tell me why it happened. He was perfect, Jadon. Beautiful. Ten tiny fingers and ten little toes, but he never took a breath. Now I tell myself it was for the best. His father wasn’t there for me during the pregnancy. I remember when I first told him I missed my period how cold-hearted he was. He jokingly said, ‘not his problem and I better go and find it.’ Soon after he disappeared on me… leaving me to fend for myself. It was a stressful time.” My mother all but turned her back on me. I blamed myself for my baby dying because I was so depressed during the entire pregnancy. I gave birth at the hospital alone. No one was there for me. My father would eventually take me in.
Jadon’s heart ached hearing her story. He reached out and touched her face gently, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “Nadia… I’m so sorry.”
She forced a bitter smile. “It’s not something you ever really get over. You just learn to live with it. And for a long time, I blamed myself. I thought maybe if I had done something differently… I don’t know.” She looked away, her voice trembling. “It’s why I’ve been so careful about letting people get close. But with you… it’s different.”
Jadon leaned closer. “I’m glad you told me. And for what it’s worth, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong, Nadia. You did your best.”
She nodded, though her tears continued to fall.
Jadon took her hand again, holding it firmly. “Listen, we’ve got to get you a U.S. Visa.”
She blinked at him, surprised by the sudden shift in topic. “What?”
“I don’t want us to be apart,” he said earnestly. “I can’t keep doing this back-and-forth thing.”
Nadia smiled through her tears. “Jadon, you know it’s not that easy to get a visa, right?”
“I don’t care how hard it is,” he replied. “We’ll figure it out. I’m going back to New York tomorrow to try to make things right for Marcus, Lyric, and Nikki. But I need to know you’re with me.”
Nadia searched his face for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. “You’re serious about this?”
“Dead serious,” Jadon said. “I’m leaving tomorrow but promise, I’ll be back next weekend, and we’ll talk more about it. But I need to know you’re on board.”
Nadia nodded, her heart swelling. “I’ll be right here, Jadon. I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. For the first time in a long time, Jadon felt like he had a future to look forward to, a future with Nadia.
