I’d seen that look before on other people. The look of someone who’s been gaslit so many times they’ve stopped expecting anyone to believe them. Carly, Dad said slowly. Is that true? For a split second, I saw something change in his face. Doubt, maybe even concern. Like for once, he wasn’t sure whose side to take. Carly saw it, too. She burst into fresh tears.
I was upset. She wailed. You don’t understand what it’s been like for me. 14 years of doing this alone. 14 years of wishing things were different and watching everyone else get what I wanted. She grabbed mom’s arm. I didn’t mean it like that. Jordan knows I love her. Tell them, Jordan. Tell them I’m a good mother.
Every head in the room turned to Jordan. She was 14 years old and suddenly the entire weight of the room was on her shoulders. I watched her face cycle through emotions. Fear, exhaustion, something that looked like hope dying before it could fully form. She’s a good mother, Jordan said quietly. Her voice was flat, rehearsed, like she’d said it a thousand times before. Mom relaxed.
Dad’s face smoothed over. That was all it took for the moment of doubt to disappear. See? Carly wiped her eyes. Jordan understands. We have our difficult moments, but we love each other. I felt something twist in my stomach. You just made her lie for you right in front of all of us. She’s not lying. She’s telling the truth.
She’s scared of you. I looked at my parents. Can’t you see that? She’s standing in the corner shaking and you’re acting like everything’s fine. Families are complicated. Mom said, “You’ll understand when you’re a mother.” “I understand right now. I understand that you’re watching a child get manipulated in real time.
And you don’t care because it’s easier to believe Carly than to admit something’s wrong.” “Don’t talk about my daughter,” Carly snapped. “Someone has to.” I was shaking now. “You called her disgusting. You told me she ruined your life, and now you’re using her as a prop to prove you’re a good person. What kind of mother does that?” the kind who’s been doing it alone for 14 years.
Carly was standing now. Well, you got everything handed to you. The husband, the career, the baby boy, and what do I get? Nothing. That’s enough, Dad said. His voice was cold. Final Enid, I think you and Zach should leave. Gladly. I grabbed my purse. But I’m telling you right now, I’m not giving her my son. Not now. Not ever.
Mom stood up. If you walk out that door, there will be consequences. What consequences? We have rights as grandparents. If we decide that baby isn’t being properly cared for, “Are you threatening us?” Zach finally spoke. His voice was quiet but hard. Because that’s what it sounds like. We’re expressing concern.
Dad said, “Concern?” Zach stepped forward. Your daughter just asked for our baby. Your other daughter made a child lie to protect her. And you’re concerned about us? Nobody answered. Carly was staring at me with that same cold smile from the kitchen, like this was all going exactly how she wanted. “We’re done,” I said.
I looked at Jordan one more time. She was watching me with this look I couldn’t forget, like she’d been drowning for years and someone had finally noticed. “I’m sorry,” I said to her. Then I grabbed Zach’s hand and we walked out the door. I can’t even wrap my head around what just happened. My own mother looked me in the eye and asked if giving away my baby would really be that bad.
My father wouldn’t even look at me. And Carly just sat there crying like she was the one being attacked. I defended her daughter, her daughter, and somehow I’m the villain. I’m done being the reasonable one. Done explaining myself to people who already made up their minds. Carly wanted a war. She’s about to find out I don’t lose.
I thought I was ready for whatever she threw at me. Then I came home from my doctor’s appointment and found the front door open. I ran inside and stopped dead. Carly was straddling Zach on the couch, her hands pressed against his chest, her face inches from his. He was struggling underneath her. “You could fix everything right now,” she was saying.
“Just say yes.” I didn’t hesitate to grab a fist full of her hair and yank her backward as hard as I could. It was like I had been wanting to do that. She flew off of him and hit the floor. For a second, she just lay there gasping. Then she looked up at me. “You bitch!” She scrambled to her feet and came at me, but Zach was already up shoving her back.
“He wanted it!” she screamed, clawing at the air, trying to get past him. He was going to say yes. I saw it in his face. “Get out,” I said. “Get out of my house right now.” “Or what? You’ll call the police?” She laughed and out came this sharp, unhinged sound. “And tell them what? That your sister came over to talk? That she sat too close to your husband? Who do you think they’re going to believe? The pregnant woman who cuts off her whole family? Or the poor grieving widow just trying to be part of her nephew’s life? They’ll believe the
security camera,” I said. Carly froze. “What? The one in the living room? the one that’s been recording since you forced your way in. Her face went white. I was bluffing. We didn’t have a camera, but she didn’t know that. You’re lying. Try me. For a long moment, nobody moved. Then something changed in Carly’s face.
The desperation melted away, and something colder took its place. Fine, she said. Her voice was too calm now, too steady. You want to play it this way? We can play it this way. She straightened her shirt and smoothed down her hair. But that baby is mine, Enid. And one way or another, I’m going to get what I deserve.
She walked toward the door, then stopped, turned back. You can’t watch them forever. Then she was gone. Zach sank onto the couch and put his head in his hands. He was shaking. I sat down next to him and put my hand on his back. The adrenaline was starting to fade, and I could feel my own hands trembling.
I had just walked in on my sister trying to assault my husband. That sentence didn’t even make sense in my head. It sounded like something from a crime documentary, not my actual life. What happened here? I carefully asked, making sure he knew I wasn’t accusing him of anything. He didn’t answer right away.
He just sat there with his head in his hands, breathing hard like he’d just run a marathon. I rubbed small circles on his back and waited. I wasn’t going to push him. She knocked on the door, he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I looked through the window and saw it was her. I wasn’t going to open it, but she kept knocking. Kept calling my name.
said she just wanted to apologize, that she felt terrible about dinner and wanted to make things right. He took a shaky breath. I opened the door to tell her to leave. That’s it. Just to tell her to go away, but she pushed past me before I could stop her. Zack. She started talking about how you don’t understand how hormones make pregnant women irrational.
How I seemed like a reasonable person and maybe I could help her. He looked up at me with red rimmed eyes. He looked so small in that moment. I hated Carly for making him look like this. I kept telling her to get out. I kept moving toward my phone to call you, but every time I moved, she moved with me, cutting me off, getting closer.
His voice cracked, and then she started talking about how I gave you a boy. How that meant I had something special, strong jeans, and how it would be such a waste to only use them once. He stopped talking and stared at the floor. His hands were clasped together so tight his knuckles had gone white.
She touched my arm. I pulled away. She grabbed my shirt. I tried to push her off, but she just kept coming. She shoved me onto the couch and before I could get up, she was on top of me and he stopped, swallowed hard. I couldn’t get her off. I was trying not to hurt her because she’s your sister and I didn’t know what to do.
And she just kept saying she wanted me to get her pregnant. His voice was that I could give her a boy like I gave you. No one would have to know. He couldn’t look at me. He was staring at the carpet like he was ashamed, like any of this was his fault. I pulled him into me and held him as tight as I could. It’s not your fault, I said.
Do you hear me? None of this is your fault. I should have never opened the door. You couldn’t have known. You couldn’t have known she would do something like this, but I did open it. His voice broke. I let her in and she Hey. I pulled back and took his face in my hands, making him look at me. His eyes were wet.
You did nothing wrong. She forced her way in. She wouldn’t leave. She attacked you. That’s on her, not you. Do you understand me? He didn’t say anything. He just looked at me with this expression that made my heart shatter. Zach, I need you to hear me. This is not your fault. I feel like I should have been able to stop her. She caught you off guard.
She manipulated her way in. That’s what she does. That’s what she’s always done. I wiped a tear from his cheek with my thumb. You are not responsible for what she did to you. He buried his face in my shoulder and I felt him shaking against me. My husband, the strongest person I knew, was broken down by my own sister.
I held him and let him fall apart because that’s all I could do. We sat like that for a long time. I don’t know how long. I just held him and let him cry and tried to make sense of what had just happened. My sister had tried to assault my husband to get herself pregnant. I kept turning that sentence over in my head, trying to make it fit into reality.
Carly had always been difficult, entitled dramatic, but this was something else entirely. This was a line I never thought she would cross. And if she would do this, what else would she do? The thought hit me like ice water. I was pregnant with the baby of her dreams, and she had just proven she would do anything to get what she wanted.
We need to do something, I said quietly. We can’t just let this go. Zack pulled back and wiped his face. You heard her. She’s already figured out what she’s going to say. grieving widow, crazy pregnant sister. Who are they going to believe? So, what do we do? I thought about my parents. How they’d sided with Carly at dinner. How they’d threatened me with grandparent rights.
If I told them what happened, they’d find a way to make it my fault. They’d say Zach misunderstood. They’d say Carly was just emotional. They’d twist it around until I was the villain again. We were on our own. No family, no support, just us against whatever Carly was going to do next. I don’t know, I admitted, but we have to be ready because she’s not going to stop. Zach nodded slowly.
He still looked shaken, but something harder was settling into his face. If she comes back here, I’m calling the police. I don’t care what she says. I don’t care who believes what. She’s not stepping foot in this house again. Agreed. We sat there in the quiet, holding hands, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong so fast.
I kept thinking about the look on Carly’s face when she left. that cold certainty like she already knew how this was going to end. My sister had tried to assault my husband to get herself pregnant. I didn’t know how to process that. I didn’t know if I ever would. We just held each other and tried to breathe.
An hour later, the doorbell rang again. Zach went stiff beside me. If that’s her, I’ll check. I looked through the peepphole. It wasn’t Carly. It was Jordan. I opened the door and she was standing there hugging herself, trembling so hard her teeth were chattering. Her eyes were red and swollen, and there was a bruise across her left cheek, dark purple against her skin.
“Jordan, what happened?” She tried to speak, but all that came out was this tiny broken sound. “Come inside,” I said, pulling her in. “You’re safe now. Come inside.” Zach wiped his face quickly and got her water while I sat her on the couch. She couldn’t stop shaking. Every few seconds, she’d flinch like she was bracing for a blow that wasn’t coming.
“Take your time,” Zach said softly, handing her the glass. His hands were still trembling from what had happened, but he pushed it aside. You’re okay now. Jordan took a shaky breath. She came home angry. I heard the car the way she slammed the door. I went to my room, but she came and found me. What did she do? Jordan’s eyes went distant.
She was screaming before she even got up the stairs, saying it was my fault, that everything wrong in her life was because of me. She sniffled hard. She grabbed my hair and dragged me into the hallway. I tried to cover my face, but she just kept hitting me. She touched her bruise and winced. She said if I had just been a boy, none of this would be happening.
She said she spent 14 years looking at me and feeling sick. She said my dad would still be alive if I hadn’t disappointed him so much that he didn’t want to live anymore. Jordan, she kicked me. Jordan’s voice went flat. Number. When I was on the floor, she kicked me in the stomach and called me worthless.
And then she grabbed my arm and threw me out the front door and told me if she ever saw my face again, she’d make me regret it. She looked up at me with hollow eyes. I didn’t know where else to go. I pulled her into a hug. She was so thin, so small. You’re staying here, I said. With us. You’re not going back to her. She’ll come looking for me.
Let her come. Zach sat down on the other side of Jordan and put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched at first, then relaxed. You’re safe, he said. She’s not going to hurt you again. Jordan looked between us. I could tell she seemed confused, hopeful, terrified it wasn’t real. She started crying then.
Not loud, just these quiet, exhausted tears that had been held back for too long. I held her and let her cry. This whole day has been a mess. I walked into my own house and found my sister on top of my husband. She looked me dead in the face and said he wanted it. Then she went home and beat her 14-year-old daughter until she ran away.
And somehow, somehow, my parents still think I’m the problem. I don’t even have words for this. What kind of person does these things? I’m not just protecting my baby anymore. I’m protecting Jordan, too. Wait until you hear what Jordan told me. Carly just lost the only person she had left. She doesn’t even know it yet. Jordan told me everything that night.
After she stopped crying, after Zach made her something to eat, after the shaking finally stopped, she started talking. And once she started, she couldn’t stop. You know, she only named me Jordan so she could pretend I was a boy, she said quietly. We were sitting on the couch together. Zach was in the chair across from us.
I looked at her. What do you mean? When she was pregnant with me, she was so sure I was going to be a boy. She had the nursery ready, blue walls, baseball posters, the whole thing. Jordan pulled her knees up to her chest. And then I came out wrong. You didn’t come out wrong, Zach said. You came out a girl.
There’s nothing wrong with that. Try telling her that. Jordan almost smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She kept the name anyway. Told everyone it was unisex, but I know the real reason so she could call me by a boy’s name and pretend at least a little bit that she got what she wanted. I reached over and put my hand on her arm.
How long have you known this? Forever. She never let me forget it. Jordan’s voice was flat. That’s why she used to shave my head. I remember that. Everyone would tell Carly to let Jordan’s hair grow, that she would look so beautiful with long hair. But Carly always refused. Always had the same excuse. Every few weeks when my hair started to grow out, she’d sit me down in the bathroom and shave it all off.
Jordan continued because it was easier to manage. I finished off for her. Yeah. Jordan looked down at her hands on her lap. She didn’t want me to look like a girl. Zack leaned forward. How long did that go on? Jordan touched her hair, shoulder length now, tangled and messy from running here until I was 11. That’s when I started fighting back.
Really fighting, screaming, locking myself in my room. She couldn’t hold me down anymore, so she stopped. She let out a bitter laugh. This is the longest it’s ever been. 14 years old and I’m finally allowed to have hair past my ears. Lucky me. The sarcasm in her voice was sharp, but I could hear the pain underneath it.
And no one could help no matter what. My teacher saw the bruises, but she always had an excuse. I fell. I was playing rough. I was a difficult child. And everyone believed her because she’s so good at being the victim. She looked at me. You saw it at dinner. The way she turned it around on you. I saw it. I nodded.
I just didn’t understand how deep it went. I thought about all the family gatherings over the years. All the times I’d seen Jordan sitting quietly in the corner. All the times I’d noticed something seemed off but told myself it wasn’t my business. I should have said something. I should have done something.
It goes all the way down. Jordan picked at a thread on the couch cushion. She only let me wear boys clothes. Jeans, t-shirts, nothing with flowers or pink or anything girly. When I started middle school, teachers asked questions, so she let me wear some girl stuff to school. But at home, it was back to the same thing.
Zach shook his head. And let me guess, she used that grieving widow raising a difficult daughter all by herself. excuse that she loves so much when questions start getting heavy. Jordan laughed bitterly. Yeah, everyone constantly feels sorry for her. That’s her whole thing. She makes people feel sorry for her and then she gets whatever she wants.
She stopped suddenly looked down at her hands. I shouldn’t be telling you all this. She’s still my mom. I know that sounds stupid, but it doesn’t sound stupid. I said she’s your mom. Of course, you have complicated feelings, but Jordan, what she’s done to you isn’t okay. None of it is okay. Jordan was quiet for a moment.
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