ᕙ༼Jay Jay's༽ᕗPOV
The sunlight filtered through the curtains, signaling it was 7:00 AM. I woke up cocooned in Keifer's arms, the steady rhythm of his breathing a relief against my chest. I pressed my hand to his forehead—the fever had finally broken.
He looked so peaceful, but as I tried to shift, a sharp, familiar cramping tugged at my lower belly.I bit my lip, stifling a groan. I couldn't let him notice. If Keifer caught even a hint of me being unwell, he'd go into overprotective mode and forbid me from leaving the bed, let alone attending today's crucial meetings.
The pressure was suffocating. I had a mountain of work to clear by this afternoon because the Watson party was tonight, and I only had two days left before I had to head back home. Every minute counted.
Gently, I began to detangle myself from his grip, moving with painful precision. I had to mask the ache, put on my professional face, and get through this day—no matter what my body was telling me.
I tried to slip away, but the moment I moved, Keifer's grip tightened around my waist. With a low, sleepy grunt, he pulled me back against his chest, his chin hooking over my shoulder. He felt cool to the touch—the fever was definitely gone—but his strength was back in full force."Where do you think you're going?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
"Keifer, let go," I whispered, trying to pry his fingers off. "It's 7:00 AM. I have a mountain of work to finish before the meeting, and the Watson party is tonight."
He didn't budge. Instead, he buried his face in the crook of my neck. "No. You're staying right here. You look pale."
A sharp cramp shot through my abdomen, and I stiffened, praying he couldn't feel my muscles tense. "I'm fine! I just have a lot to do because I'm leaving in two days. I can't afford to miss this."
"The work can wait," he countered, his voice growing firmer as he finally opened his eyes, searching my face. "You're trembling. You're not going anywhere until I'm sure you're okay."
"I am okay!" I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. "Stop treating me like a patient. I have responsibilities, Keifer. If I don't finish this today, everything falls apart."
"And if you collapse at that meeting, everything falls apart anyway," he argued, pulling me even closer until I was trapped against him. "Stay. One hour. That's my final word."
I glared at him, my heart racing between the pressure of the deadline and the steady, stubborn thrum of his heartbeat. I was running out of time, and he was the only thing standing in my way.
I tried to wrench myself away, but the physical pain in my abdomen was nothing compared to the white-hot flash of hormonal irritability surging through me.
My skin felt too tight, every touch felt like sandpaper, and the ticking clock was driving me mad."Keifer, stop it! I'm not some fragile doll you need to wrap in cotton wool," I snapped, my voice cracking with a sharp, jagged edge.
I pushed against his chest, my breath hitching as a fresh cramp bloomed in my gut. "Stop treating me like I'm weak. I have a life, I have a career, and I need you to stop suffocating me!"
Keifer's grip slackened instantly, but the warmth didn't leave with it—it was replaced by a sudden, chilling stillness.
He sat up, his eyes searching mine, dark with a mix of hurt and rising temper."Jay, you are literally trembling in my arms," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, vibrating low. "I can feel your muscles seizing. You are in pain, and you're lying to my face just to go to a meeting iam just–"
"You're just overreacting!" I yelled, the word flying out like a weapon. "You always do this! You're being suffocating and dramatic!"The air in the room seemed to freeze.
Keifer flinched as if I'd actually slapped him. That word—overreacting—cut through his concern and hit his pride. His face went stone-cold, the softness he usually held for me vanishing behind a mask of rigid indifference.
He stood up from the bed, the mattress shifting as he withdrew his warmth entirely. He didn't look at me; he looked through me.
"Overreacting," he repeated quietly, the word tasting bitter. "Right. My mistake for thinking you actually needed me."He grabbed his shirt from the chair, his movements jerky and sharp. "Fine, Jay. Do whatever you want. I'm done being the villain in your story today. I won't stand in your way anymore."
Without another glance, he strode out of the room, the door clicking shut with a finality that made my stomach drop further than the cramps ever could. I was finally free to work, but the silence he left behind was deafening.
The moment the door clicked shut, the silence in the room felt like a physical weight. The "victory" of being left alone tasted like ash. My anger, which had felt so justified seconds ago, evaporated, leaving behind a cold, hollow guilt.
What did I just do? I thought, my breath hitching. I had just screamed at the man who stayed up all night with a fever, yet still woke up only thinking of my comfort. Keifer, who puts my happiness above his own breath, who makes me his world—and I had called him "suffocating."
The cramps in my belly were nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Tears blurred my vision as I scrambled out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet. I didn't care about the meeting anymore; I just needed him.
I ran downstairs, my heart hammering against my ribs. I found him in the kitchen, his movements mechanical and stiff as he set a plate on the dining table. He didn't look up. The air around him was freezing.
"Keifer..." I whispered, reaching for his arm.
He didn't flinch; he simply moved his arm away to reach for a glass, acting as if I were a ghost. He sat down and began to eat, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. He wouldn't even grant me a glance. The rejection stung worse than any shout.
He still handed me plates and leave.
The day only got grimmer. We had a high-stakes joint meeting between Watson Empire and the Mariyano Company. Usually, Keifer would steal glances at me, squeeze my hand under the table, or offer a supportive smile. Today? Nothing.
He was the perfect professional—cold, efficient, and utterly detached. He addressed the board, the clients, and the assistants, but to him, I didn't exist. I had broken his heart, and he had responded by locking me out.
By the time we got home to get ready for the party, I couldn't take it. I blocked his path in the hallway, my eyes red from suppressed tears. "Keifer, please! Speak to me! I was frustrated, I was in pain—I didn't mean those things!"
This time, he didn't ignore me. He snapped.
"ENOUGH!" his voice boomed, echoing off the walls.
I flinched, never having heard him use that tone with me. He stepped into my space, his eyes flashing with a raw, jagged hurt. "You wanted me to stop treating you like you're 'delicate'? Fine! You wanted space? You've got it! But don't you dare stand there and use your 'mood' as an excuse to rip my heart out!"
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE WORK, JAY!" he roared, his hands clenched at his sides. "I cared about you. But apparently, my love is 'suffocating' and 'overreacting.' So go. Go to your party, finish your work, and be the strong, independent woman you claim I'm holding back. Just leave me out of it!"
He brushed past me, his shoulder hitting mine with a force that sent a fresh wave of pain through my abdomen, leaving me trembling in the wake of his fury.
Iam sorry
The Watson party was a blur of flashing lights, expensive champagne, and hollow laughter. To everyone else, we were the power couple of the Watson Empire and Mariyano Company merger, but to me, the distance between us felt like an ocean. Throughout the entire night, Keifer was the perfect gentleman to every guest, but to me, he was a statue of ice. He stood by my side when necessary, his hand barely hovering near my waist without touching me, his eyes never once meeting mine.
The cramps in my belly had evolved into a dull, throbbing ache that pulsed with every step I took in my heels, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the suffocating silence between us.
When we finally got back to the penthouse, the door hadn't even fully clicked shut before the heaviness broke. The party mask fell off his face, leaving only a cold, hard exhaustion. He headed straight for the bedroom, loosening his tie with jerky, irritated movements.
"Keifer, please," I choked out, my voice small in the vast living room. "The party is over. The work is done. Can we just... talk?"
He didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. "I'm tired, Jay. Go to sleep."
"I can't sleep like this!" I ran after him, grabbing his arm. "I'm sorry! I know I was cruel this morning. I was in pain, I was stressed about the move back home in two days, and I took it out on the one person who actually cares. Please, don't keep doing this to me."
He spun around so fast I nearly stumbled. The anger from this morning hadn't faded; it had just been simmering under the surface all night.
"Doing what to you?" he snapped, his voice echoing against the high ceilings. "I'm doing exactly what you asked for, remember? I'm staying out of your way. I'm not 'suffocating' you. I'm treating you like the strong, independent woman who doesn't need my 'overreactions.'"
"I didn't mean it like that!" I cried, the tears finally spilling over.
"Then how did you mean it, Jay?" He stepped closer, his shadow looming over me, his eyes flashing with a raw, jagged hurt. "You told me my care was a burden. You told me to stop treating you like you were fragile. So here I am, treating you like a stranger. Is this what you wanted? Because this is what 'not being delicate' feels like!"
"Keifer, I was just hurting—"
"WE ARE ALL HURTING!" he roared, the sheer volume of his voice making me flinch. "But I don't use my pain as a weapon to tear you down! I stayed up all night with a fever, and the first thing I did when I woke up was hold you because I thought you needed me. But apparently, I was just 'overreacting' to your pain. My love isn't a switch you can flick on and off whenever it's convenient for your schedule!"
"YOU DON'T GET TO DO THIS!" he roared, his voice cracking against the high ceilings. "You don't get to treat me like a stranger all day and then expect a 'sorry' to bridge the gap! You told me I was suffocating you, Jay! You told me to stay away!"
I stood there, my fingers digging into the velvet of the sofa just to keep my balance. My head was spinning, a dull roar growing in my ears that drowned out his shouting. Every word he threw at me felt like a physical blow to my chest.
"Keifer, please... I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice sounding hollow and far away even to my own ears.But he wasn't looking at me. Not really. He was staring at the wall, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might snap.
He was so consumed by the humiliation of being called 'overprotective' and the sting of my morning outburst that he completely missed the way my knees were knocking together.
He didn't see that my eyes had gone glazed and unfocused, the dark circles under them looking like bruises against my ghostly pale skin.
He didn't notice that my breathing had become shallow and hitched, or that my hand was trembling so violently I could no longer grip the fabric of the couch.
"I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING TODAY!" he shouted, finally spinning around to face me, his chest heaving under his dress shirt.
"I gave you the silence you wanted! I gave you the professional distance! And now you stand there and—"
He stopped. The silence that followed was deafening.
His eyes finally locked onto mine, and the fury in them vanished, replaced by a sudden, chilling realization. He saw the lifeless, glassy stare in my eyes. He saw the way my body was swaying, like a leaf caught in a breeze.
"Jay?" his voice dropped to a terrified whisper.
The room tilted. The floor seemed to rise up to meet me. I tried to reach for him, to tell him I hadn't eaten, that the cramps were tearing me apart, but my tongue felt like lead.
"I'm... so... sorry..." I breathed, the last of my strength evaporating.My eyes rolled back, and my world went pitch black.
ᕙ༼Keifer's༽ᕗPOV
My heart stopped the second her eyes rolled back. The fury that had been burning in my chest vanished, replaced by a cold, paralyzing terror. I didn't just see her fall; I felt my entire world shatter.
"Jay! Sweetheart, please!" I choked out, my hands shaking as I cupped her face.
Guilt hit me like a physical blow. I had been so busy nursing my own bruised ego, using my voice like a weapon, that I ignored her glassy stare and the way she was swaying in agony. While I shouted about my broken heart, she was literally breaking.
I pulled her against my chest, rocking her as my tears fell onto her forehead. I had promised to protect her, yet I was the one who pushed her over the edge.
"I'm sorry," I whispered into her hair, my voice cracking. "God, Jay, I'm so sorry. Please, just wake up."
ᕙ༼Jay Jay's༽ᕗPOV
The tension was thick as Keifer stood by the bed, his jaw tight. He was clearly torn between his lingering anger and the crushing guilt of my collapse. I reached out, my hand trembling, wanting to finally bridge the gap and say the "sorry" he had earlier rejected.
"Keifer, please, i—"
"That's enough," Kuya snapped, his eyes locking onto Keifer with protective fire. "You're coming home with me, Jay. Right now."
"Kuya, no! I need to talk to him," I pleaded, struggling to sit up as a fresh cramp spiked through me. I looked at Keifer, desperate for him to grab my hand, to tell me to stay, to fight for me despite our fight.
But Keifer remained frozen, his pride still warring with his heart. He didn't move. He didn't say a word."You've done enough damage for one day," Kuya said to Keifer, his voice cold as ice.
He didn't wait for a response; he wrapped a coat around my shoulders and began to lead me out of the room.
I looked back over my shoulder, my eyes blurred with tears, trying to catch Keifer's gaze. I wanted to apologize for the morning, for the words, for everything—but the distance between us only grew as Kuya pulled me toward the door. I didn't want to leave like this, but for the first time, Keifer let me go.
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