"Keifer..." she whispered, her voice a thin, papery thread. She didn't open her eyes, and she didn't move an inch.
"He is dead.
They said he... he got into an accident at night. Drunk driving. He hit a divider ....and that was it."
~Flashback~
The air in the lecture hall was suffocating.
Jay had spent the last hour staring at a blank notebook, the ink from her pen bleeding into a dark, messy blotch—much like her life.
Beside her, Sophia was vibrating with a chaotic, restless energy.
"I can't believe you,"
Sophia hissed, leaning in so close her hair brushed Jay's shoulder.
"The 'Sunshine Girl' finally gets a cinematic proposal in the middle of campus, and she says 'I'll tell you later'? Jay, do you even know how much work went into that banner?"
"Soph, please," Jay whispered, her head thumping.
"My heart is literally beating at a thousand miles an hour. I can't breathe, let alone think about banners."
"It was perfect!" Sophia leaned back, her arms crossed and a pout on her face.
"Keifer looked like he was about to combust. That was the whole point! We were supposed to make him crawl, and you just... you ran away!"
"I felt like I was dying, Soph," Jay said, her voice trembling.
"Looking at his face... I felt like I was stepping on his heart. I can't do the 'Stranger' game anymore. It hurts too much."
"It's called leverage, baby girl,"
Sophia countered, though her eyes softened for a fraction of a second before the mischief returned.
"You're going home with me. We're going to plan Phase Two."
"No," Jay said firmly, standing up as the bell rang.
"I'm going to the library."
"Huh?"
"Yes ! I have to go to library, I have got some work."
Jay knows if she go with her, she'll end up in another trauma.
Jay walked out of the classroom, her mind a whirlwind of Keifer's pained expression and the boy with the lilies.
She felt like a total mess. She went to the restroom and splashed ice-cold water on her face, staring at her reflection.
How will I ever face him tonight? How do I tell him I'm.... his, and only his, without losing this stupid war of pride?
She stepped out into the golden afternoon light of the parking lot, her heart heavy.
But then, she saw him.
Keifer was leaning against his car, looking every bit the "Golden Boy."
But he wasn't alone.
A girl—wearing a dress that was far too short and far too "hot" for a university campus—was practically molding herself into his side.
Jay's fingers curled so tightly around her bag straps that the leather groaned.
Every ounce of her exhaustion vanished, replaced by a white-hot, singular focus.
Keifer, I will kill you and this girl,
she muttered to herself, her vision narrowing into a lethal point.
Watching that girl's hand reach out and linger on Keifer's shoulder felt like a physical strike to Jay's chest.
The "Stranger" act didn't just break; it disintegrated.
He is mine, her mind screamed.
Yes! He is mine, and I am absolutely done playing these games. And I'm not gonna pretend now.
I miss him.
I fu*cling miss him.
She began to march across the parking lot, a tiny, beautiful hurricane headed straight for her husband.
She was ready to shove that girl into the next zip code and reclaim what was hers.
But then, her phone buzzed with a sharp, insistent vibration.
She pulled it out, her thumb hovering over the screen.
It was a message from her neighbor back at her stepfather's house.
📥
"He is no more. He passed away last night."
The world stopped.
The fire in Jay's eyes died instantly, replaced by a cold, numbing fog.
The sight of Keifer and the girl suddenly felt like a scene from a movie she wasn't watching anymore.
The jealousy, the anger, the love—it all got pushed behind a massive, icy wall of shock.
He's dead? The monster who had cast a shadow over her childhood, the man who had made her feel like a prisoner even in her own skin, was simply... gone.
She didn't look back at Keifer.
She didn't care about the girl.
She let the crowd swallow her, her legs moving on autopilot as she turned toward the gates, walking away from the life she loved to face the ghost of the life she hated.
~flashback ends~
Keifer's grip on her tightened instinctively, his chin resting atop her head.
He looked at her pale, expressionless face—it was a mask of cold marble.
To him, this was more agonizing than seeing her cry.
Tears would have meant she was processing it; this silence meant she was frozen in the trauma of a man who had haunted her every nightmare.
Keifer pulled away just enough to look at her, and his heart shattered at the sight.
She was a total mess.
The "Sunshine Girl" had been replaced by someone pale, motionless, and hollow, her gaze fixed on a distant point on the road as if she were watching the ghosts of her past drive away.
"Keifer..."
her voice was a brittle rasp.
"How can he... just go?"
"Jay..." Keifer started, his voice thick with a helpless kind of grief.
He reached out to cup her face, but she didn't seem to feel his touch.
"He harassed my mom," she whispered, the words beginning to tumble out like a dam breaking.
"He... he beat her, Keifer.
Every day.
He broke her spirit until there was nothing left.
He... he killed her.
It wasn't just an illness or a broken heart.
He killed her."
She let out a short, bitter laugh that sounded more like a choked sob.
A single, heavy tear finally escaped and tracked a slow path down her pale cheek.
"And now... now they are saying he's just... gone?
Just like that?"
"Jay... please, don't do this to yourself,"
Keifer pleaded, his own eyes brimming.
He tried to pull her back into the safety of his arms, but she pushed against his chest, her strength sudden and frantic.
"WHAT?!"
she shouted, the emotionless mask finally cracking into a thousand jagged pieces.
"How can he just go?!"
She grabbed his shoulders, shaking him with a desperate, trembling force.
The tears were falling freely now, hot and fast, staining her face.
"How does he get to just fall asleep and never wake up?
After everything?
He didn't pay, Keifer! He didn't apologize!
He... he destroyed our lives!"
She collapsed against him again, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket as her legs gave way.
"He stole everything from us... and now he gets to leave without even saying sorry?"
Keifer caught her, sinking to his knees on the veranda and pulling her into his lap.
He didn't try to shush her.
He didn't tell her it was okay, because it wasn't.
He just held her while she screamed.
"I know, Jay," he whispered, his own tears falling into her hair.
"I know. But he can't hurt you anymore.
He's gone, and he's never, ever coming back. I promise."
"Noooo!" The scream ripped from Jay's throat, raw and jagged, echoing off the cold stone of the veranda.
It was a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that made the air around them feel heavy.
She lurched back, her hands flying to her own hair, gripping the strands as if she were trying to hold her mind together.
She let out a laugh—a sharp, bitter, terrifying sound that held no joy, only the jagged edges of a shattered soul.
"He destroyed everything, Keifer!"
she shrieked, her eyes wide and wild, darting around the estate that had been her prison for so long.
"He took every single drop of happiness!
Every smile my mother ever had, he choked it out of her!
Every night I spent shaking in the dark...
he stole my childhood! He stole my peace!"
"Jay, look at me!"
Keifer said, his voice cracking.
He reached for her, his heart breaking into a million pieces at the sight of her unraveling.
He had never seen her like this—the vibrant, sunshine girl he loved was being consumed by a decade of repressed trauma.
"How?!"
she demanded, pushing him away with a strength born of pure desperation.
She stumbled back, sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath, yet that haunting,
hysterical laugh kept bubbling up.
"How can he just leave without paying?
He didn't let us laugh!
He didn't even let us cry in peace!
He watched us suffer like it was a game...
and now he just gets to close his eyes and it's over?
No justice?
No apology?
No punishment?"
She began to pull at her hair again, her chest heaving.
"It's not fair!
It's not fair, Keifer!
He gets to be at peace, and I'm still here... I'm still broken!
I'm still the girl he hurt!"
"Jay, stop it! Stop!"
Keifer roared, his own tears streaming down his face.
He stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her firmly to pull her out of the spiraling hysteria.
"Look at me!
Jay, look at me!"
She looked at him, her face a mask of snot, tears, and absolute ruin.
Her bottom lip trembled violently.
"He's gone,"
Keifer whispered, his voice shaking as he gripped her shoulders, trying to be the anchor in her storm.
"He can't hear you, he can't see you, and he can never hurt you again.
The debt is settled, Jay. Not the way we wanted, but he is finished.
He's done!"
"He took everything..." she whimpered, her voice suddenly dropping to a broken whisper as the adrenaline began to bleed out of her.
"He took everything from us."
Her knees buckled, and she began to slide toward the floor. Keifer didn't let her fall.
He lunged forward, catching her and pulling her into a crushing embrace, sinking to the cold ground with her.
He wrapped his arms around her so tightly it was as if he were trying to fuse their souls together, protecting her from the ghosts of that house.
Jay didn't push him away this time.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt until her knuckles were white.
She cried—not the soft, silent tears of the library, but deep, racking, soul-shaking sobs that seemed to come from her very marrow.
She cried for her mother, for the years of fear, and for the hollow victory of a dead monster.
Keifer held her through it all, his own tears falling into her hair, his hand stroking her back in a steady, rhythmic motion as he let her pour out every ounce of poison she had carried for years.
In the silence of the dying evening, under the shadow of the monster's house, there was only the sound of Jay's weeping and the steady, unshakable beat of Keifer's heart.
He was her home now, and he wasn't going anywhere.
___________________________________
Keifer and Jay were now sitting on a small stone bench tucked away in the corner of a park shielded from the view of the main road by thick, unkempt vines.
Jay's eyes were closed, her face still pressed firmly against the steady rhythm of Keifer's chest.
Her hands remained wrapped around his waist, her fingers clutching his shirt as if she were afraid that letting go would cause the world to start spinning again.
Keifer, in turn, rested his chin on the top of her head, his eyes closed as he focused on the rise and fall of her chest.
Every shaky, exhausted breath she took felt like it was being etched into his own soul.
He held her with a protective ferocity, his arms acting as a fortress against the darkness of her past.
She looked peaceful now, but it was the peace of total exhaustion—the kind that comes after a soldier has finally laid down their weapons because the war is over.
The fire was gone, the hysteria had bled out, and all that remained was a quiet, aching tiredness.
"Keifer..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustle of the leaves.
"Hmm?"
he murmured back, his hand tracing slow, soothing circles on her back.
He didn't want to move; he didn't even want to breathe too loudly for fear of shattering this fragile moment.
"Please... don't tell anything at home,"
she said, her voice small and trembling.
"About today. About him. About... any of it."
Keifer's hand stopped for a fraction of a second.
"Jay..."
"I don't want to drag them into my sadness,"
she continued, her eyes still squeezed shut.
"Soph, your mom, your dad... they've been so good to me. I don't want to bring this poison into that house. I want that place to stay... happy."
Keifer slowly pulled back just enough to cup her face in his hands.
His palms felt the lingering heat of her tears on her cheeks.
"Look at me, Jay,"
he said softly.
She opened her eyes, and the sheer depth of the weariness he saw there nearly broke him.
It wasn't just sleepiness; it was the fatigue of a soul that had been carrying a mountain for years.
"Jay, we are family,"
he said, his voice thick with conviction.
"Family carries the weight together. You don't have to protect us from your life. We want to be the ones who help you heal."
He saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, a shadow of the old fear that telling the truth made her a burden.
She looked so small, so drained of everything but the basic need to survive the hour.
Keifer realized that pushing her for a "breakthrough" right now would be a mistake.
She had given enough of herself today.
"But," he added, a soft, sad smile touching his lips as he brushed a stray, damp hair from her forehead,
"if you aren't ready to tell them, it's okay. I won't say a word. It'll stay between us until you're ready."
A small, genuine breath of relief escaped her lips. "Thank you," she breathed.
She didn't have the energy for anything more.
Jay leaned forward again, closing her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Keifer pulled her closer, shifting so he could lean his head against hers.
__________________________________
Jay was huddled on the edge of Sophia's bed, wearing her "emotional support" pajamas—fuzzy pants and a nightshirt three sizes too big.
She hugged a pillow tight, her mind still replaying the warmth of Keifer's embrace.
Across the room, Sophia was sprawled on a lounge, her face lit by her phone.
Her "best friend radar" was pinging at max volume.
"So," Sophia started, not looking up. "The library, huh?"
Jay jumped. "Yeah....The library."
Sophia locked her phone and sat up, narrowing her eyes.
"Mhm. Interesting. Because the library closed hours ago, yet you stroll in here looking like you just survived a hurricane."
"I... I stayed late. The janitor let me stay in a study nook,"
Jay lied, her voice squeaking. She started picking at a loose thread on her pillow.
"Right. And I suppose the janitor also gave Keifer a heart attack?"
Sophia stood up, pacing like a detective.
"Because your 'so called ex-husband' called me earlier screaming.
He was practically panicking, Jay. 'Where is she? Soph, tell me where she is!'"
Jay felt her face heat up.
"I don't know why he'd do that. You know Keifer. He's dramatic. He probably lost his favorite hair gel."
Sophia stopped in front of the bed, crossing her arms.
"Are you sure? Because he didn't ask about hair gel. He asked about you. And then you both arrive home within five minutes of each other?"
Jay knew she was losing.
Sophia was a professional secret-hunter.
If she stayed in this conversation for two more minutes, she'd spill everything.
She needed to escape, and she needed to do it fast.
"Are you even listening, Jay-jay?"
Sophia poked her shoulder.
"Did something happen? Did you finally stop pretending he's a stranger and—"
"Oh! Look at the time!"
Jay suddenly shouted, faking a massive, jaw-cracking yawn.
"Jay, don't you dare—"
"Wow, Soph! I am just... so tired! My brain is melting!"
Jay grabbed the duvet and did a full-body flop onto the mattress.
"Studing whole day is so hard! I'm practically legally dead from exhaustion!"
"You are such a bad liar,"
Sophia groaned, tugging at the blanket.
"Get out from under there! I know there's a story!"
Jay acted like a turtle retreating into its shell.
She gripped the edges of the blanket from the inside, pulling it tight until she was just a motionless lump.
"Soph. Keep thinking. Write a book about it,"
Jay's muffled voice came from under the covers.
"I'm going to sleep. I'm tired. Really, really, really tired. Goodnight, Detective!"
Sophia sighed, a small smile finally appearing. She knew Jay was dodging her, but she let it go for now.
"Fine," Sophia muttered, clicking off the lamp.
"Hide in your fortress. But tomorrow, the price of breakfast is the truth. Sleep tight, weirdo."
In master bedroom, scene was different,
Keifer rolled onto his side, clutching a pillow tightly against his chest, subconsciously seeking the warmth that had been there just a few hours ago on that stone bench.
He closed his eyes, the scent of her hair still lingering in his mind.
"I miss you," he muttered into the fabric of the pillow, his voice thick with a longing he couldn't hide anymore.
"I'm already missing you, Jay."
He propped himself up on one elbow, staring at the empty space on the bed beside him.
"When will I see my wife again?"
he whispered to the dark room.
"When will I actually have her beside me, in my arms, without a tragedy bringing us together?"
He was just beginning to spiral into his own thoughts when a sound cut through the quiet.
Knock.
Knock.
It was soft—barely there—but in the silence of the mansion, it sounded like a drumbeat.
Keifer groaned, rubbing his temples with his free hand.
He assumed it was Sophia coming to grill him about the afternoon or his mother checking in on him.
"Who is it this time?"
he grumbled, dragging himself out of bed.
He didn't even bother to fix his messy hair or the way his shirt was half-tucked.
He reached the door and pulled it open, ready to give a polite "Go away" to whoever was standing there.
But as the door swung wide, the words died in his throat.
His eyes widened, his heart performing a sudden, violent somersault in his chest.
"Jay..."
___________________________________
Hey buddies how are you buddies?
Ok buddies
Bye buddies
Btw before u curse me, it was the last time they cried, or become sad.
Btw now u all can give me as many suggestions u want about their romance, lovey dovey, sibling blanter, etc, etc. I'll try to involve every suggestion.
Ok bye
Love u 😘