The diner was exactly the kind of place Jordan needed right now-low lights, the quiet hum of conversation, and the smell of burgers and fries thick in the air. It was a spot he used to hit up in high school, back when life felt simpler. Back when he didn't have to question everything.

Izzie slid into the booth across from him, resting her elbows on the table as she glanced around. "Okay, this place is giving major nostalgia vibes. Didn't we come here after one of your first big games?"

Jordan smirked, shaking his head. "Yeah. My sophomore year. I swore I was gonna make it to the NFL after that win."

"And I swore I could eat two orders of chili cheese fries without regretting it." She sighed dramatically. "I was wrong."

Jordan chuckled, the first real laugh he'd had in weeks. He forgot how easy things were with Izzie-how she could make him feel normal, even when everything else in his life was a mess.

A waitress stopped by, and they both ordered their usuals without even thinking. The moment the waitress walked away, Izzie leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his. "Alright, J. Spill."

Jordan shifted in his seat. "Spill what?"

She gave him a look. "Don't play dumb. You've got that whole brooding, 'I've been through some deep emotional trauma' vibe going on. And since I doubt it's just football stress, I'm guessing it has something to do with Simone."

His jaw tensed. He should've known she'd see right through him. Izzie had been around for every high and low in his life, and she wasn't the type to let things slide.

He exhaled, running a hand over his face. "Yeah... it's about Simone."

Izzie stayed quiet, giving him the space to get the words out.

Jordan swallowed hard. "The baby... he's not mine."

For a second, Izzie didn't move. Then, her brows furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. "Wait... what?"

Jordan let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. Turns out, I spent all this time planning to be a dad, choosing her, doing everything I thought was right-just for her to drop that on me." He shook his head, his voice low. "She knew for weeks and didn't tell me."

Izzie's eyes darkened. "Jordan..."

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to feel," he admitted, his voice raw. "Relief? Anger? Betrayal? One second, I think I'm finally coming to terms with it, and the next, it's like I don't even know who I am without that responsibility." He looked up at her, his expression guarded. "I wanted to be a father, Iz. I was ready for it."

Izzie's expression softened, and she reached across the table, placing her hand over his. "I know."

The simple reassurance hit harder than he expected.

She sighed, shaking her head. "You didn't deserve that, J. None of it. And if she really cared about you the way she said she did, she wouldn't have kept that from you."

Jordan swallowed, staring at their hands. "Yeah, well... it's over now."

"Is it?"

He looked up, meeting her gaze.

Izzie tilted her head. "I mean, are you really done with her? Or is there still a part of you that wants to fix things?"

Jordan hesitated. He knew the answer-had known it since the moment Simone told him the truth. "I can't go back," he said finally. "Not after this."

Izzie nodded, her thumb brushing lightly against his hand before she pulled away. "Good." She leaned back against the booth. "Because you deserve better, J. You always have."

Something about the way she said it, so certain, made his chest tighten.

The waitress returned, setting their food down, breaking the moment. Izzie picked up a fry, tossing it at him. "Now, eat. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in days."

Jordan smirked, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."

She grinned. "And yet, you love me for it."

Jordan didn't answer. But as he took a bite of his burger, he realized that for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel completely alone.