JAY'S POV:
The moment stretches longer than it should.
He looks up when I step in—like he already knew it would be me—and for a second, neither of us says anything.
There's too much in the room already. Too much fear. Too much unsaid.
Slowly, Keifer stands, pulling the chair back just enough for me to sit. It's quiet, automatic, like he doesn't even think about it—and I don't thank him, I just move past him, straight to her.
"Hey beautiful…" my voice softens instantly as I take Lola's hand, holding it carefully but firmly, like I can anchor her back somehow.
"You can't be doing this right now, you know. Tomorrow's your birthday—you're supposed to be out there humiliating all those ladies at the banquet with your exscuisve taste in fashion, remember?"
A faint laugh leaves her, fragile but real. "Of course… I still intend to," she murmurs.
I smile a little—but my eyes lift.
To him.He's watching. Not sharp. Not guarded. Just… waiting and something in me settles.
I look back at her.
"Lola…" I say quietly, squeezing her hand once.
A pause.
"i have decided.I'll do it."
Her brows knit slightly. "Do what, my child?"
I inhale.
Then—
"I agree to marry Keifer."The room doesn't shift immediately after I say it.
It doesn't erupt. It doesn't move.
It just… stills.
Like even time needs a second to process what I've just done.
"You what!??" She asked me her eyes of glitter and hope...
"I agree to marry Keifer."
The words hang there—clear, steady, irreversible.
For a heartbeat, no one breathes.
Then Lola's fingers tighten around mine, her entire expression breaking open in a way I've never seen before—relief, happiness, disbelief all at once as tears spill freely down her cheeks.
"Jay… my child…" her voice trembles, almost giving out under the weight of emotion. "You've… you've made me so happy…"
I smile.
Soft. Assured. Convincing.
Because that's what she needs.Because that's what this is for.
Beside me, I feel movement—Keifer shifting, like he's about to speak—but I don't even look at him. I just lift my hand slightly, a silent stop.
Not now.Whatever he has to say—it can wait.
Lola gently reaches for his hand, her fingers weaker but determined as she places it in mine, covering both with her own. "Bless you both my child…" she whispers. "Take care of each other… promise me that…"
My fingers close around his automatically.
"I promise," I say quietly.
I don't know if he says it too.
I don't look.
Because if I do—I might falter.
"Jay…" Lola's voice softens again, more careful this time, her eyes searching mine like she's trying to read beyond my smile. "Tell me honestly… are you sure?"
That question—
It doesn't just land.
It lingers.
For a second, everything inside me pauses.
The hospital sounds fade, the weight of her hand, the warmth of his beside mine—everything blurs into that one moment where I could tell the truth.
Where I could say no.
Where I could choose myself.
But then I look at her.
Really look at her and I already know my answer.
"I thought about it," I say gently, my thumb brushing lightly over her hand as if to reassure her. "And I think… he's a great guy."
Great guy!? Really Jay!!!
Gr at guy my fucking ass....
A small, almost teasing breath escapes me. "I won't lose anything by giving it a chance."
Her eyes soften instantly, relief flooding through her features as she nods slowly. "That's all I wanted… no obligation… just a chance…"
Then she turns slightly towards the nurse, voice gaining strength from somewhere. "Call everyone in."and everything changes.
The room fills quickly.
Footsteps. Murmurs. Concern shifting into confusion.
"What happened? Is she okay—?"
"We're fine," Lola interrupts, her voice calm but carrying enough authority to silence everyone. "I have something to say."
Everyone stills.
And then—
"So my grandson Keifer… and our precious Jay Jay… is getting married."
For a split second, it's like no one understands the sentence.
Then it hits.
Aunt Serina gasps first, her hands flying to her mouth before she breaks into an emotional smile, stepping forward immediately to pull me into a tight hug. "Oh my God ahhh I'm so happy omggg—welcome to the family, officially, Jay Jay…"
Uncle follows, his expression proud, almost relieved as he pats my shoulder. "You've made us very happy today."
Across from them, my parents—
They're smiling.
Genuinely.
But I catch it—the flicker of something else.
Searching. Careful.
"Omg Jay…I'm so happy for you my princess" Mom says softly, stepping closer. "But are you sure about this?"
I meet her eyes.
"Yes."
It comes out steady.
Like it's already decided.
Dad exhales slowly, nodding once, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "If you're happy… that's all that matters."
Happy.
Right.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jace and Sam.
They're frozen.
Jace's brows pulled together, jaw tight, confusion and anger barely contained. Sam looks between me and Keifer like she's trying to decode something that doesn't make sense.
I meet their eyes.
Just slightly tilt my head.
Later.
Not here.
Not now.
They don't push.But I can see it—This isn't over.
Not even close.
"So it's decided that tomorrow night," Lola continues, her voice lifting with excitement despite everything, "at my birthday banquet—I will announce it to everyone."
"Lola…" I step in gently, instinctively. "That can wait. Your health is more important right now."
She waves it off like it's nothing. "I am fine. And I want the world to know… that our Jay is the future mistress of the Watson family and my granddaughter in law... "
The title lands heavier than anything else.
Not Jay.
Not me.
Something else entirely.But no one questions her.No one stops her.Because right now—
She looks happy and that's all anyone cares about.
—
Eventually, the room clears.
The elders stay behind, still talking, still processing, still celebrating—and the four of us step out into the hallway.
Then toward the canteen and that's when it really starts.
We sit across from each other.
Me and Keifer on one side.
Jace and Sam on the other.
No one touches the food.
No one even looks at it.
The silence stretches until it snaps.
"Okay—what the hell was that?" Jace finally bursts, leaning forward, his voice sharp but controlled enough not to draw attention. "You're getting married? Since when? Since five minutes ago?!"
"Lower your voice," I mutter.
"No," he shoots back immediately. "You don't get to 'lower your voice' me right now, Jay. What was that in there?"
Sam nods quickly, her eyes still wide. "Yeah, what just happened? Because last I checked, you two were arguing over fabric transitions—not… marriage."
I exhale slowly, leaning back. "It's not like that."
"Then what is it like?" Jace presses. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you just agreed to marry someone you can barely stand."
My jaw tightens.
"That's not true."
"Really?" he challenges. "Because you literally called him—"
"Jace," I cut him off sharply.
Silence.
He leans back, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. "This is insane…"
Sam turns slightly toward Keifer now, her tone softer but still firm. "And you? You're just okay with this?"
For the first time since we sat down—
Keifer speaks.
"I'm not 'okay' with it," he says calmly, but there's an edge under it. "But I'm not going to deny her when she asked for it."
"That's not an answer," Sam says quietly.
"It's the only one that matters right now," he replies.
I glance at him.
Finally.
And this time—He's looking back.
"What we decide later," he continues, his voice lowering slightly, "is something we'll figure out between us."
Between us.
The words sit there.
Jace lets out a dry laugh. "Oh, great. So now there's a 'we.' Fantastic."
"Enough," I say, my voice sharper now. "We said we'll think about it. That's it. Nothing is final."
Jace looks at me like he wants to argue more.
But he doesn't.
Sam sighs softly, leaning back. "This is a mess…"
"No," I murmur, staring down at the table for a second.
"It's not a mess."
It's something worse because a mess can be cleaned.
This?
This is already set in motion.
And as I sit there—with him across from me, with them watching us, with everything shifting too fast to stop—
I realize something quietly, almost terrifyingly clear—
This isn't just happening around us anymore.
It's happening to us and there's no clean way out of it.
KEIFER'S POV
I knew she was going to say something.
The moment she walked in, the moment her eyes landed on Lola, something shifted—and I've watched her enough by now to recognize that shift. It's the same look she gets in meetings right before she takes control of a room, right before she makes a decision no one can argue with.
But I didn't expect that.
"I agree to marry Keifer."
For a second, I thought I heard it wrong.
Because there's no way—
I'll be HER HUSBAND!!!
JAY JAY'S HUSBAND!!!!! ME!!????
But I didn't want it not like this. Not here. Not… because of her.
But then I saw Lola's face. The way she lit up, the way her hands shook as she held Jay's, like this one sentence had just given her something to hold onto—and suddenly, it wasn't about whether I believed it or not.
It was real.
And I should've felt… something simple.
Relief. Maybe or satisfaction.
Instead, what hit first was something sharp and complicated, something that sat heavy in my chest as I looked at her—standing there, calm, composed, saying yes to a future she hadn't even known existed yesterday.
She didn't even look at me when she said it.
Not once and that's when it clicked.
This wasn't for me.
It was never for me.
It was for Lola.
Of course it was.
Because that's exactly the kind of person she is—reckless with herself, careful with everyone else. She'd burn down her own comfort if it meant keeping someone she loves from breaking and I hate that I respect her for it.
I hate it even more that a part of me—some selfish, irrational part—still felt… happy.
Because she said yes.
Even if it wasn't for the reason I wanted.
Even if it wasn't because she felt anything close to what I—
No.
I shut that thought down immediately.
Now's not the time.
Lola pulls our hands together, her touch weak but determined, blessing us like this is something whole, something right—and Jay's fingers wrap around mine without hesitation.
Uncertain in a way no one else would notice.
I don't say anything.
Because if I do, it won't come out right.
Because if I let myself speak, I might ask her something I don't have the right to ask.
Would you have said yes if it wasn't her?
So I stay quiet.
Watch.
Hold on.
And pretend this doesn't feel like a victory I didn't earn.
—
The moment we step out into the canteen, everything shifts.
The silence doesn't last long.
Jace explodes first.
Of course he does.
"What the hell was that?!"
His voice cuts through the space, sharp and angry, and for a second, I feel it—that instinctive urge to shut him down, to tell him to watch his tone, to remind him exactly who he's talking to.
But I don't.
I can't.
Because he's not wrong.
And because this—whatever this is—it isn't something I can handle like a boardroom conflict.
This is… personal.
Too personal.
So I sit there, jaw tight, listening as he goes off, as Sam joins in, as both of them question her, question me, question the entire situation like it's something we can just explain away with logic.
"You're just okay with this?"
Sam's question lands directly on me.
I look at her.
Then at Jay.
And for a second, I consider telling the truth.
No. I'm not okay with marrying someone who doesn't want me the way I want her...Even when every inch of me is screaming to just hold her tightly against me and kiss her senselessly...
But that's not something I can say here.
Not in front of them.
Not when Jay herself hasn't even acknowledged it.
"I'm not 'okay' with it," I say instead, voice even, controlled. "But I'm not going to deny her when she asked for it."
It's vague.
Deliberately.
Because anything more would crack something open I've been holding shut for weeks.
"What we decide later…" I add, my gaze shifting back to Jay, holding hers for just a second longer than necessary, "is something we'll figure out between us."
Between us.
The words feel heavier than they should.
Because for the first time—
There actually is an "us."
Not the kind I wanted.
But something and that's enough to complicate everything.
Jace doesn't like that answer.
I can see it in the way his shoulders tense, the way his jaw clenches like he's one step away from saying something he won't be able to take back.
I almost want him to.
Almost.
Because it would give me a reason to react.
To let this pressure out in a way that makes sense but he doesn't.
And neither do I.
I sit there, restraining it all—the irritation, the frustration, the sharp edge of something dangerously close to anger—because this isn't about ego.
It's not about control.
It's about her.
And she's already given up enough today.
I'm not going to make it worse.
—
The silence stretches again and I know if we stay here any longer, this is going to spiral into something none of us can fix.
So I exhale slowly, pushing my chair back just enough to break the tension.
"Jay."
Her name cuts through everything else.
She looks at me.
Finally.
"Let's go," I say, my tone quieter now, but firm. "There's a café outside. We can… talk."
Because whatever this is—
It's not something that gets figured out in a hospital canteen with an audience.
It's something that needs space and honesty even if neither of us is ready for it yet.
I hold her gaze for a second longer.
Then stand because this time—I'm not walking away first and I'm not letting her walk first either...