If Only

Chapter Twenty-Five: Same Flock

"You're all grown up now, son"

My father referred to Tyrone as "son," and I couldn't believe my ears. This was not how I had envisioned our first meeting.

"Mr. Jorgensen, but Gerard to you," my father said, patting Tyrone on the shoulder. The awkwardness in the room was palpable, and I found myself nervously wetting my lips, fearing that I would ruin my lipstick.

Sofia, in her excitement, suggested a formal introduction. I wanted to protest, but it was too late. She tugged me toward Tyrone, and I reluctantly stood beside him. My father and Clayton wore triumphant expressions as they looked on.

"Jade, this is my son, Tyrone," Sofia announced, and Tyrone extended his hand toward me once more. I hesitated but finally shook his hand, only to be caught off guard when he lifted my hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. Internally, I was panicking, trying to maintain my composure. I forced a smile as he released my hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," Tyrone said, and I managed to reply with an awkward smile. I was in disbelief at how this encounter was unfolding. I prayed that Tyrone wouldn't reveal the details of our previous conversation about my thoughts on The Helping Hand. I kept my breathing steady and hoped for the best.

Sofia directed a question at her son, trying to break the tension that had settled in the room. "How long have you been here, dear?" she asked Tyrone, adjusting her furry scarf.

"Not too long, but no worries. Jade kept me company," Tyrone replied, causing me to snap my head toward him in surprise. He playfully winked at me, making me look away quickly and smile at Sofia.

"That's great! It's good to see you both enjoying each other's company," Sofia cheerfully commented.

"Yeah, Jade and I were just talking about..." Tyrone paused and glanced at me, making me tense up, fearing that he was about to reveal our previous conversation to our parents.

"...certain things," he continued, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had dodged a bullet there.

"Seems like things are working well. Why don't we all step inside?" my father suggested, coming to my rescue. I spun around and practically sprinted toward the entrance, temporarily forgetting the heels I was wearing.

Desperate to put some distance between us, I barely noticed that Tyrone had caught up to me. He matched my pace as we were ushered by hotel staff and led into the hotel lobby. I was grateful that the event was on the first floor, saving us from the ordeal of climbing stairs. We turned down a carpeted hallway and reached a pair of grand double doors, classical music wafting from inside.

Two ushers stood by the doors, offering warm smiles and ready to open them. It dawned on me that I would likely be the first to enter the ballroom. Panic washed over me, and though I tried to hide it, Tyrone quickly picked up on my unease.

Tyrone leaned down slightly to match my height and asked if I was okay. I gulped and nodded, but he clearly didn't buy it.

Before I could register what was happening, he offered his hand like a gentleman, and I, in my distracted state, absentmindedly placed my hand in his. The doors opened, and an announcement was made about our arrival. I couldn't help but wonder why they felt the need to announce it like this. Tyrone led me inside, my hand still in his, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

Taking in the sight of the ballroom, I observed the dominant color scheme of various shades from grey to black. The tablecloths were satin white, contrasting with the dark theme. The room was filled with people spanning different age groups. As Tyrone guided me to our table at the center, I scanned the room.