The dining room was usually a place of quiet elegance, but tonight it felt like the front lines of a very expensive, very awkward battlefield.
The air was so thick with tension that Jay felt like she was breathing through a wool sweater.
Everyone was settled at the massive dining table except for Keifer.
He was still at the office, and the delay was making Jay's heart do a nervous thud-thud.
She was still simmering with revenge plans over his teasing, but her eyes kept drifting toward the door, wishing he'd just walk in already.
Across the dining area,
however, a silent war was raging-and it was louder than any shouting match.
Mrs. Watson marched in, her chin held so high she was practically looking at the ceiling, and took her usual seat.
"Good evening, Mom," Jay ventured softly.
"Good evening, anak," Mrs. Watson replied, her face softening into a sweet smile for Jay.
But the second Mr. Watson entered the room and pulled out the chair beside her, that smile vanished, replaced by a look of such pure frost that Jay half-expected the water glasses to shatter.
"Good evening, Dad," Jay and Sophia chimed in.
"Good evening, good evening, kids!" Mr. Watson said, sounding suspiciously cheerful as he tucked his napkin in.
"So, what's on the menu tonight? I'm starving!"
Beside him, Mrs. Watson's grip on her silver spoon tightened until her knuckles turned white.
The fact that he was acting like nothing was wrong was clearly the final straw.
Clang!
She slammed the spoon onto the table-a sound so sharp that Sophia actually jumped and accidentally dipped her hair in the gravy.
Without a word, Mrs. Watson stood up, picked up her entire plate like a nomadic warrior, and moved to the chair beside Jay.
Mr. Watson blinked, his mouth forming a perfect 'O' of realization.
Not to be outdone, he stood up, picked up his own plate, and shuffled over to sit beside her again.
"Elena," he whispered, reaching out to gingerly take her hand as if he were approaching a landmine.
"Are you... still mad at me?"
She jerked her hand away as if his touch were electric.
"Mad? Me?"
she asked, her voice dripping with enough sarcasm to coat a cake.
She gave a massive, theatrical eye roll.
"No, Alberto. Why would I be mad? I love being ignored while my husband treats someone else's wife like a long-lost queen."
Before he could respond, she stood up again, plate in hand, and marched to the seat across from Sophia.
Sophia and Jay watched this high-stakes game of Musical Chairs with wide, terrified eyes.
Sophia held a fork halfway to her mouth, frozen in mid-air, while Jay looked like she wanted to hide under the tablecloth.
"Should we... say something?"
Soph mouthed silently to Jay.
Jay shook her head so fast her hair blurred.
Do you want to die? her eyes screamed back.
Determined, Mr. Watson stood up yet again.
He looked like a lost puppy following a scent as he moved his silverware, his glass, and his plate for the third time, landing right back next to his wife.
"Elena, please. It was just tea!"
Elena didn't move this time.
She just let out a sharp, jagged exhale and began to eat her salad with a ferocity that suggested she was imagining the lettuce was her husband's head.
"Elena? Honey?"
Mr. Watson tried again, leaning in close.
"The salmon is excellent tonight, don't you think?"
Silence.
The only sound was the aggressive crunch-crunch of Elena's croutons.
"Elena? I brought you those chocolates you like..."
She didn't even blink.
She just reached for the salt, reaching right over his arm as if he were a ghost, and seasoned her food with a blank expression.
Sophia leaned toward Jay, whispering out of the corner of her mouth while keeping her eyes fixed on her plate.
"I give Dad five minutes before he starts crying. Want to bet?"
Jay didn't answer; she just took a very long, very slow sip of water, her eyes darting toward the door again.
Keifer, she thought desperately,
please come home. I'd rather deal with your teasing than you not coming home soon.
The heavy atmosphere of the dinner table shifted from the Silent War of the parents to a sudden, chilling stillness as the front door clicked open.
Jay felt her heart skip a beat.
Finally, he was home.
She looked toward the foyer with soft, expectant eyes, her anger from earlier today momentarily forgotten in the relief of his presence.
But as Keifer stepped into the light of the dining hall, the relief died in her throat.
He wasn't his usual teasing self.
He walked with a stiff, mechanical gait, his knuckles white as he clutched a stack of papers in his fist.
His jaw was set so tight it looked like marble, and his eyes-the eyes that usually looked at Jay with a smirk-were unreadable.
Cold.
He walked straight past Jay.
He didn't glance at her.
He didn't even acknowledge the air she breathed.
Jay's heart didn't just sink; it felt like it had been dropped into a well of ice.
"Keifer, you're back?" his mother asked, her voice still carrying the remnants of her earlier annoyance with Mr. Watson.
Keifer didn't answer.
He stopped in front of his parents, his breathing heavy but controlled.
"Mom, Dad," he said, his voice dropping an octave,
"I need to talk to you."
Mr. and Mrs. Watson exchanged a worried glance, their own bickering instantly forgotten.
"Yes, Keifer? What happened? Is something wrong at the office?" Mr. Watson asked in a forced, calm voice.
Jay stood like a statue, her gaze fixed on the side of Keifer's face, pleading for him to just look at her.
Just once.
Finally, Keifer exhaled-a long, sharp breath that sounded like a blade being unsheathed.
He turned his head slowly.
He looked at Jay, but there was no warmth, no teasing, no "Ice CEO" spark.
His expression was completely blank.
He looked down at the papers in his hand, then back up at his parents.
The words that came out of his mouth were like a sudden, violent crack of thunder in the quiet room.
"I want divorce."
The silence that followed was deafening.
For Jay, the world seemed to tilt on its axis.
Her hands began to shake uncontrollably, the fine china on the table rattling beneath her touch.
Her breath became heavy, jagged, as if the oxygen had suddenly vanished from the room.
"Keifer... what are you saying?" Mrs. Watson's voice trembled, her face pale.
She let out a nervous, breathless laugh, her eyes searching her son's face for any sign of a prank.
"Stop it. That's not a funny joke. Not at dinner."
The dining room, which had been filled with the petty bickering of a silent war moments ago, now felt like a vacuum.
Every bit of warmth had been sucked out of the air.
"Mom, it's not a joke,"
Keifer said, his voice cutting through the silence like a jagged blade.
He maintained unwavering, icy eye contact with his mother, his face a mask of cold determination.
Beside them, Mr. Watson sat perfectly still.
His usual jovial or defensive expressions had vanished, replaced by a stony silence as he observed his son with unreadable eyes, his hands folded tightly on the table.
Mrs. Watson forced a small, trembling smile, her voice reaching for any sense of normalcy.
"But Keifer... what happened so suddenly? You... you wanted this marriage. You agreed to this."
"No. I never wanted this," he snapped back.
The words were flat, devoid of any emotion, which made them hurt even more.
"But Keifer-" His mother started to protest, but the words died in her throat. Her gaze shifted past her son to Jay.
Jay was standing there, her face as pale as the white marble floor.
Her hands were still shaking, and her eyes-those soft, expressive eyes that had been looking for him all evening-were now swimming with tears.
They pooled at the corners, trembling, just a second away from spilling over.
Keifer didn't turn to look at her.
He kept his focus entirely on his parents, his jaw tightening.
"Mom," he said, his voice dropping to a low, bitter growl.
"It was you. It was your decision. It was never mine."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Jay felt like she was drowning in the middle of the room.
The revenge she had planned, the teasing she wanted to throw back at him-it all felt like a cruel joke now.
Every memory of his gentle touches or his "gentlemanly" behavior from the night before was being crushed under the weight of those five words: It was never mine.
The atmosphere in the room, which had been frozen in a state of pure, jagged glass, suddenly shattered.
Mrs. Watson's eyes filled with tears, her hands trembling against the edge of the mahogany table.
The weight of her son's words seemed to age her in an instant.
Keifer didn't stop, his voice gaining a raw, heavy edge that vibrated through the silent dining hall.
"You were the one who did this," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, pained growl.
"I never wanted this marriage. I never wanted this contract.
I never wanted her as my wife... like this."
He paused.
The word this hung in the air, heavy with the implication of legal papers, forced arrangements, and cold signatures.
Finally, Keifer turned.
His gaze, which had been locked on his parents with icy defiance, shifted toward Jay.
As his eyes landed on her, a single, silent tear escaped Jay's eye, tracing a glistening path down her pale cheek.
She looked small, her shoulders shaking, her heart breaking in real-time as she listened to him reject the very foundation of their life together.
But then, the ice in Keifer's expression didn't just crack-it melted.
His eyes softened, the "Ice CEO" mask falling away to reveal a man who looked exhausted by his own secrets.
He took a slow, deliberate step toward her, closing the distance until he could see the reflection of his own regret in her tear-filled eyes.
He reached out, his voice turning into a rough, emotional whisper.
"Because..." he continued, his breath hitching slightly,
"I always wanted her... as my real wife."
The silence that followed was different now.
It wasn't the silence of a funeral; it was the breathless silence of a heartbeat skipping.
Jay's breath hitched.
Her hand, which had been clutching the back of a chair for support, went limp.
She looked up at him, her vision blurred by tears, trying to process the shift from "divorce" to "devotion" in a single sentence.
Behind them, Sophia let out a loud, strangled gasp, her hands flying to her mouth. Mrs. Watson froze, her tears still wet on her face, while Mr. Watson slowly leaned back in his chair, a look of profound realization finally crossing his features.
As the last word left Keifer's lips, the heavy, romantic silence didn't last more than a second.
SMACK!
"Ow! Soph!" Keifer hissed, clutching the back of his head as he stumbled forward.
Sophia was standing there, her face a chaotic mess of smudged mascara and furious tears. Her chest was heaving with indignation.
"You absolute jerk! Are you out of your mind?!"
she screamed, her voice cracking.
"Do you have any idea what you just did to her?"
"But what did I d-" Keifer started to protest, his hand still rubbing his head, but he didn't even get to finish the sentence before-
SMACK!
This one came from the other side.
He winced, turning to find his mother standing there, her hand still raised and her eyes flashing with a maternal fury he hadn't seen since he was ten years old.
"Do you really think this is a joke, Keifer Watson?"
she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and anger.
"To walk in here with divorce papers just to make a point? Have you lost your common sense along with your heart?"
"But Mom... I was trying to-"
Keifer stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes finally shifted past his mother to Jay.
The sight of her hit him harder than any physical blow.
Jay was standing perfectly still, both of her hands pressed tightly over her mouth to stifle the sounds of her crying.
She wasn't just weeping; she was sobbing, her entire body shaking as tears pooled and spilled down her cheeks, soaking into her sleeves.
She looked utterly shattered, the whiplash from "divorce" to "real wife" having pushed her past her breaking point.
Mrs. Watson's expression softened instantly into pure heartbreak for her daughter-in-law.
She stepped away from Keifer and rushed to Jay, pulling the trembling girl into a tight, protective embrace.
"Oh, anak... I'm so sorry. Shhh, it's okay," Mrs. Watson whispered, glaring over Jay's shoulder at her son.
Keifer took a frantic step toward them, his eyes wide with genuine worry and regret.
He reached out a hand, desperate to touch her, to explain, to fix the mess he'd made with his dramatic "CEO" entrance.
"Jay... I..."
"STAY BACK!"
His mother stopped him in his tracks, thrusting a strict, flat palm out toward his chest.
Her gaze was ice-cold.
"Don't you dare come near her, Keifer."
___________________________________
Hey buddies 😁, how are u
I really don't know...ummm...I mean that I know my imagination is sometimes wierd, I don't know what came to my mind I wrote this and also like this.
Also I am seriously telling I swear I didn't try to keep any cliffhanger, it was just like....I don't know.....it just.... happened.
So.... actually no, just leave my bakwas, just don't forget to tell me how was the chapter.
Ok
Bye buddies 👋
Good night 😴
Sweet dreams 💤
Love u 😘 😘 😘