JAY'S POV
Sunday mornings are supposed to feel slow.
Soft.Peaceful.And for the first time in what feels like forever—I actually get one.No deadlines to meet ,no craming stuff nothing.....just peace all around me.....
I wake up without an alarm, sunlight spilling lazily through the curtains, warming the edges of my room like the day isn't in a rush to begin. My body feels light, rested… like it finally caught up with everything it's been holding.
For a few seconds—I didn't move.Just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet settle into me.No chaos.No pressure.
Just peace.
And God—I needed that.
Eventually, I drag myself out of bed, stretching lazily before making my way to the bathroom. The cold marble against my feet wakes me up just enough to function, and soon enough—I'm brushing my teeth, still half-asleep, hair a complete mess, mind blissfully blank.
The hot water shower?
Heaven.
I stand there longer than I should, letting the water wash over me, easing every bit of tension still left in my muscles. It feels grounding. Familiar. Like I'm finally back in my own world.
By the time I step out—I feel… human again.
Relaxed.
Soft.
Dangerously close to falling asleep again.
I pull on my favorite oversized hoodie—the one that practically swallows me whole—and a pair of shorts that disappear underneath it completely. My hair goes up into a messy bun that looks like I didn't try (I didn't), and I slide on my socks, dragging my feet slightly as I walk out of my room.
I'm still sleepy.
Like… aggressively sleepy.
As I step into the hallway, faint sounds reach me.Clattering utensils. Voices. Movement.
I pause.And then immediately decide—
Not my problem.
I turn straight toward the living room instead, completely ignoring whatever is happening in the dining area, and the moment I see the couch—
I dropped on it.Face first.Limbs spread. No dignity. No shame.Just exhaustion.
"This is my home now," I mumble into the cushion.
"JAY JAY!"
I groan.
No.
"No," I mumble into the pillow, refusing to move.
"Jay, come to the table!" Jace's voice echoes again. "It's almost eleven—we've been waiting for you!"
Waiting?
Why would anyone wait for me—
I don't care.
"I CAN'T," I shout back dramatically, not even lifting my head. "I'm too tired, Jace! Please just bring me coffee—I will literally owe you my life!"
There's a pause.Then—Soft laughter.Multiple people.Wait.Why are there multiple people—
I ignored it.
"PLEASE,My dearest and sweetest brother in the whole universe...." I groan louder, turning my face into the cushion. "I was up till like four—I have no energy—my head is dying—just bring it here pleasee prove to me that I'm your lovable little sisterrr—"
Footsteps.
Coming closer.
"Thank you bro," I mumble weakly, already preparing to grab the mug without looking.
A hand extends into my line of vision.Holding my favorite mug.Steam curling softly into the air.
"Here you go,little menace...."
The voice is low.Rough.
Not like Jace's soft voice with me.My brain registers it half a second too late.And then—
I look up.And nearly swear out loud.Because standing right in front of me—In my house.
On a Sunday morning.Holding my coffee like he belongs here—Is Keifer.
White polo. Sleeves slightly rolled. Hair perfectly messy. Expression calm. Eyes watching me like this is the most normal thing in the world.
My brain?
Offline.Completely.
I sit up so fast I almost fall again, clutching the hoodie around me like it suddenly matters how I look.
"What—"
I stop.Because behind him—I see them.
Uncle Kade.Aunty Serina.Sam.Jace.My mom.My dad.All sitting there at the table.
Watching.Smirking.Laughing.And then—
It hits me.Sunday=Mariano×Watson Brunch.
Oh.My.God.
"Fuck," I whisper under my breath, immediately trying to fix my hair like it's going to magically make this situation better.
Keifer hands me the mug, his lips twitching slightly. "Wow. Starting your day with profanity now are we...not even a 'good morning keifer thank you for the coffee'? You're becoming pretty rude, Jaybird."
I take the mug from him, glaring instantly. "Fuck off, dickhead. Who in their right mind wants to see your face first thing in the morning?"
He doesn't even flinch.Of course he doesn't.
"In case you weren't aware," he says smoothly, crossing his arms slightly, "almost every woman in this city wouldn't mind seeing this face of mine every single morning.."
I snort. "Delusion is a serious issue baby. You should get that checked it's contagious you know..and the woman who looks at your face the first thing in the morning is the unluckiest woman on this planet..."
His smirk deepens. "So,you are saying you are the unluckiest woman right now."
"Dream on," I shoot back immediately, brushing past him.
But my heart?Still doing that stupid thing again.
I walk toward the dining table, trying to regain some dignity, pretending like I didn't just wake up looking like a complete mess in front of everyone.
"Good morning, uncle," I smile, hugging Kade.
"Morning, Jay Jay," he chuckles.
"Morning Aunt," I hug Serina next.
"Look at you," she smiles warmly. "Still half asleep."
"Always," I grin.
I hug my mom and dad next, mumbling a soft "morning," before dropping into the chair beside Jace.
And of course—Across from me—
Keifer.And Sam.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
"This is going to be a long day," I mutter under my breath.
Jace snorts. "You brought this on yourself."
Brunch is… chaos.The good kind.Food gets passed around, conversations overlap, laughter fills the space like it always used to. It's loud, warm, familiar—and despite everything—
It feels right.I catch Sam kicking my leg under the table, wiggling her eyebrows dramatically at me.I glare at her.She grins wider.
I hate her.
By the time we're done, everyone slowly migrates to the living room.And somehow—we fall into roles like nothing ever changed.
Uncle Kade, Dad, Jace—and unfortunately Keifer—start talking business, voices low but serious.
Aunty Serina and Mom shift into their own world, discussing cases, strategies, things way too complicated for my current brain capacity.
And me?
I flop down next to Sam, both of us instantly pulling out our phones like it's second nature.
"What are we stalking today?" she whispers.
"The socialites of London...," I reply.And just like that—we're gone.Scrolling. Judging. Laughing quietly.Comfortable.Easy.Home..
Then after a while,sam looked at me and spoke..
"Let's go to the mall,Jay" Sam says, flipping her phone shut like she just made a life-altering decision. "I need jeans, shoes—and a dress. Prom is literally around the corner and I refuse to look basic."
I raise a brow. "You? Basic? Impossible."
She grins. "Exactly. So come on."
I don't even think twice. "Give me five minutes."
Convincing the parents?Not as easy.
"Take the boys with you," Mom says immediately, not even looking up.
"Why?" I deadpan.
"For safety."
I stare at her. "From what? Bad fashion choices?"
Dad hides a smile. Jace groans. Loudly.
But somehow—We all end up going.Together.
Keifer's car, of course.Because apparently, he doesn't do anything halfway.
Jace slides into the front seat with him, already complaining about something, while Sam and I take the back. I toss my bags beside me, settling in—and that's when I feel it.
A glance.I look up.The rearview mirror.And there he is.Watching.I don't even hesitate—I raise my hand and flip him off.Clean. Precise. Satisfying.His lips twitch.
Asshole.
The mall is chaos.Good chaos.We move from store to store, hands full of clothes, Sam dragging me from racks to mirrors to trial rooms like her life depends on it.
"Try this."
"No."
"This one."
"Absolutely not."
"Jay—"
"Sam, if you wear that, I will personally disown you."
Jace chokes somewhere behind us. Keifer says nothing but I feel it.That quiet amusement.
Jeans. Tops. Jackets. Shoes.Bag after bag after bag.And then—The boutique.Prom dress territory.This is serious.
Sam tries on everything.
Red. Black. Blue. Glitter. Silk.
Each time she steps out, we all just—
"No."
"Absolutely not."
"Next."
Even Keifer shakes his head once.Sam looks personally offended.
"You people have no taste."
"We have standards," I correct.
Eventually, I wander because if I have to look at one more questionable dress—I might lose it.That's when I see it.Pink.Soft. Elegant. Perfect.I don't even think—I grab it and walk back.
"Try this."
She does.And when she steps out—We all go quiet.Because this time?It works.She looks… stunning.
"Oh my God," she breathes.
"Yeah," I nod. "That's the one."
Decision made.Finally.While they stand in line, I drift again.Just… looking.That's when I see it.
Cream gown,off shoulder with a high end slit.The kind of dress that doesn't ask for attention—it owns it.My steps slow.I move closer.My fingers brush the fabric lightly.
It's… perfect.
Different.Dangerous.Me.For a second—I actually consider trying it on.
But—
"JAY!"
Sam's voice cuts through.I glance back once more.Then walk away.We leave.
Shopping bags in hand, laughter lingering, the day slowly settling into something softer.
At some point, Keifer gets a call and steps away, his tone shifting into that cold, controlled version of him I've started noticing more.
I don't think much of it.I don't think much of anything.
By the time we're done—it's late.We meet him at the parking lot.Drive back quieter this time.
Sam falls asleep beside me, her head dropping onto my shoulder.Jace scrolls through his phone in the front.
And me?
I stare out the window.Lost somewhere between thoughts I don't want to name.
When we reach home, the car stops smoothly.
Jace gets out first, already halfway inside before the door fully closes.
Sam's still asleep.
I carefully shift her, grabbing the shopping bags, stepping out quietly.And just as I turn—
"Jay."
I pause.Turn back.He's standing there.
One hand in his pocket. The other holding a bag.My name still hanging in the air between us.
He steps closer and for once—He doesn't smirk.He just holds out the bag.
"This is for you...."
I blink. "What—"
But before I can ask—before I can even process—He's already turning away.Walking back to the car.Leaving..Just like that.
I stood there for a second.Confused.Curious.
Something else I don't want to name.Then I walk inside.Straight to my room.Drop everything on the bed.
And finally—Pick up the bag.Slowly.Carefully.
Like it might disappear if I rush.
I opened it.
Pulled out the box.Lift the lid—And freeze.
Because inside—Is the dress.
The cream one.The one I didn't take.
The one I didn't even say out loud that I liked.
My breath catches slightly.My fingers trace the fabric again.And this time—It feels different.Because I didn't choose it.
He did.
For me.
And suddenly—That look in the mirror earlier.
That quiet silence.That call.That moment.It all clicks.He saw it.He noticed.He remembered.
I sit there on the edge of my bed, the dress in my hands, my heart doing that same stupid, traitorous thing again.
Because this?
This wasn't teasing.
This wasn't arrogance.This wasn't him being a jerk.This was—Something else.Something quieter.Something that lingers and I don't know what to do with that.....