Chapter 4: Her Moment of Truth
1048 Words
Time flew by in that temporary comfort. I lay there, watching Jasmine sleep peacefully, snuggled against me. I couldn't help but cry.
Today was the day. The day I had to give up my baby.
It was already checkout time, but I lingered, hoping for more moments. When the phone finally rang, I knew my time was up.
"Time to go, baby," I muttered defeatedly, as Jasmine stirred in my arms.
We left the hotel after I got her dressed. It wasn't scorching hot, but Jasmine's immune system was fragile. We stepped out of the hotel and were immediately stopped by Charles, the front desk manager.
"I'm sorry for taking so long. I didn't—"
"Don't apologize, Ms. Woods," he said with a sincere, comforting smile. "Had Mr. Hayes not called, I'd have given you an extra day. On me."
His kindness helped stem the tears threatening to spill. "Thank you so much. I can't tell you how much your kindness means right now."
"I only wish I could do more," he grimaced. "And quite frankly, I find it a shame that Mr. Hayes hasn't."
"He's done enough," I replied, knowing the truth. Any other man wouldn't have done this. Carl certainly wouldn't have. "Thank you, have a good day."
I turned to leave, but Charles held my hand a moment longer. I paused. "I truly wish you the best. I believe things will work out for you."
"Thank you."
As I left the hotel, the hope instilled by Charles began to fade. My steps slowed as I realized where I was headed. I strapped Jasmine in, kissed her forehead, and got into the car.
Maybe they could work something out. Maybe they'd let me get her back once I was on my feet.
Before I knew it, I was in front of the CPS building. That building held so many bad memories.
Anxiety crept in, tightening my chest.
"We're just talking. If we talk, we can work something out... right? We can work something out."
I got out of the car and headed to the front office, but stopped. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go in there. They'd take her, and I'd never see her again.
"Oh God, I'm so selfish!"
Tears fell as I knelt, Jasmine in my arms. I didn't care who saw. I ignored the stares and questions about my well-being because I wasn't okay. I was hurting. My heart ached.
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry." I wept uncontrollably, cradling my child.
"Journee Woods?"
By the time I heard my name, the tears had slowed, but I was still distraught. "What... what do you want?"
"Just for you to come with me."
I turned to see a man standing behind me. An unmarked car was parked behind him. He was a driver.
I struggled to my feet as he offered help. Once I was up, I backed away.
"Who are you? How do you know my name? And what do you want?"
"Ma'am, I'm only here under orders."
"Whose orders?" I demanded incredulously. Unmarked cars and men in black? I hadn't been involved in anything that would warrant that... well, there was that one guy, but...
He opened the car door, revealing a familiar glare. "Get in."
It was Jaafar Hayes! What could he possibly want?
"Hurry up! Before I change my bloody mind," he hissed, sliding into the car.
Hesitantly, I looked down the street. "But what about my car? I can't afford a tow—"
"Daren will take care of the car. Just give him the key and get in."
Okay, he was a good man. He wasn't going to kill me. Or at least, he wouldn't kill Jasmine. Right? Yeah, no, he wouldn't.
Reluctantly, I got into the car, and the door slammed shut. We sat in the back seat, a large space between us. Jasmine sensed my discomfort and started to stir and whine.
"You're not going to kill me, are you?"
His head slowly turned, annoyance clear in his expression. "It would certainly fix one problem," he replied snidely, turning his gaze back out the window. "Then what would I do with the child?"
Sarcasm. Yeah, I'd shut up now.
When the car finally stopped, we were at the rear of a high-end building—the same one from a few days ago. We were at his place.
"Come on," he said, getting out. With uncertainty and a pinch of hope, I followed.
We reached a single elevator, accessible only by key, which he, of course, had. Inside, I stood on the opposite side, as far from him as possible. I caught him stealing glances, likely wanting to see Jasmine but not wanting me to get the wrong idea.
"Do you want to look at her?" I asked, trying to make some attempt at a cordial exchange.
"Why would I want to do that?" he snapped with clear irritation.
I knew he might be doing me a favor. I knew this could go wrong, but I was tired of his attitude.
"Because apparently, you can't keep your eyes off her," I barked defiantly. He was caught off guard. I took a deep breath and rethought my approach. "I'm sure you're looking for... resemblances? If you want to—"
"No, I'm not," he sighed, looking forward. "She has my eyes... freckles." He murmured the last part. I stifled a chuckle, realizing he was right. Somehow, even their freckles looked the same.
"I guess she does," I murmured.
His comment forced me to take in a side profile of him.
Jaafar Hayes really was a sight to behold. His jaw line was the strongest that I'd ever seen, and his stature held an air of
power, control, and clear-cut arrogance. That was where my little girl's resemblance to him hit a clear divide. Or at least, I hoped that it would. Quite frankly, it was too early to tell.
"Problem?" he hissed.
He was clearly frustrated by my ogling eyes. "I...sorry," I quickly apologized and pointed my gaze forward again. "Just...finding the similarities."
"Yeah? Well stop it."
"Right, sorry." Silence ensued, before I added. "And for the record...thanks."
He glanced down at me as the elevator dinged open. He glanced at Jasmine, and then sighed, "Let's go."
- Writer
