JAY'S POV — WHEN MORNING COMES WITH TEETH
Morning didn't arrive gently.
It didn't creep in with soft light or forgiveness.
It arrived sharp—cold air biting my skin, the city still half-asleep, my head pounding with the weight of everything I'd done and everything I hadn't finished yet.
I stood outside the Fernandez house.
Barefoot.
Still wearing last night's dress—creased now, damp at the hem from rain that hadn't quite dried. My hair was a mess, makeup gone, face bare and exposed in a way I hadn't allowed myself to be in years.
The iron gates loomed in front of me.
Tall. Imposing. Familiar.
This was the house where decisions had been made about me.
Without me.
Behind those walls, my fate had been discussed like a file. A strategy. A solution.
My hands curled slowly into fists.
The night before felt unreal now—like something that had happened to another version of me.
Earlier this morning.....
I woke up tangled in white sheets.
Warm.
Bare.
For half a second, I didn't know where I was—only that there was skin against mine, heat at my back, an arm heavy and possessive around my waist like it belonged there.
Then I breathed in.
Him.
Keifer.
His chest rose slowly behind me, steady and deep, his forehead pressed into the space between my shoulder blades. One leg was hooked over mine, unapologetic, anchoring me there. The sheets were twisted around us, useless at covering anything, evidence of a night that hadn't ended neatly.
Naked.
Both of us.
Not rushed. Not careless.
Chosen.
My heart stuttered.
Memories came back in fragments—rain-soaked clothes discarded on a hotel room floor, laughter breaking through tears, mouths finding each other again and again like they were making up for every moment they'd held back. Hands that were reverent, not greedy. Urgent, but careful.
Not about conquest.
About finally stopping the fall.
Keifer shifted slightly in his sleep, tightening his hold without waking, his thumb brushing my stomach like instinct. Like muscle memory.
Something in my chest softened dangerously.
For one selfish, fragile moment, I considered staying.
Letting the world wait.
Letting consequences knock later.
I turned my head just enough to look at him.
He looked younger asleep. Less guarded. No sharp edges. Just a man who'd finally let himself rest after holding too much inside for too long.
If I stayed, I would sink.
And right now, I couldn't afford to sink.
Carefully—so carefully—I slipped out from under his arm, replacing my warmth with a pillow. The sheets fell away, cold biting my skin instantly. I dressed quietly, pulling on last night's dress, wrinkled and damp at the hem, hair still carrying the scent of rain and him.
I paused at the nightstand.
Tore a page from the hotel notepad.
I'll be back.
Not goodbye.
Never goodbye.
I left before he woke.
And now
I stood outside the Fernandez house.
Still in last night's dress.
No makeup.
No armor.
Just truth.
The iron gates loomed in front of me—tall, familiar, unforgiving.
This was where decisions had been made about me.
Without me.
My fingers curled into fists.
The softness of the night hardened into resolve.
I pressed the buzzer.
Once.
Twice.
The gate opened.
Angelo stood there, exhaustion etched into his face.
"Jay," he said quietly.
I didn't hesitate.
"I'm not here to ask," I said, stepping forward. "I'm here to tell you."
And as I walked past him into the house that had once tried to decide my future—
I knew something irreversible had happened.
The girl who woke up naked in Keifer's arms had chosen love.
The woman standing here now?
She was choosing herself too.
And no one was stopping her anymore.
He swallowed.
Lola appeared in the doorway, shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Tita Gema followed, eyes red, expression carefully composed like armor she'd put on too late.
No Aries.
Interesting.
"I didn't sleep here last night,if that's your first question" I continued, walking past Angelo into the house that had always felt like both shelter and cage.
"Not that it's any of your business—but I want you to understand something."
They all watched me now.
No interruptions.
Good.
"I stood on a stage last night and said yes to something that had already been decided without my consent," I said evenly. "I smiled because you taught me how to survive like that."
Tita Gema flinched.
"But survival is not submission," I went on. "And I am done being quiet to make things easier for you."
I turned slowly, meeting each of their eyes.
"I pulled myself out of that situation," I said. "I secured Fer Corp's future without selling myself. And if you ever—ever—make plans involving my life again without my voice in the room—"
I paused.
Let the silence stretch.
"I will walk away. Not dramatically. Not angrily. Completely."
Lola's eyes filled with tears.
"Anak—"
"I love you," I said gently, softening only for her. "But love doesn't mean obedience."
Angelo exhaled slowly, like a man realizing the ground beneath him had shifted.
"What do you want now?" he asked.
I straightened.
"What I should've had from the start," I replied. "Respect. Transparency. And the right to choose who I love and how I build my life."
No one argued.
Because for the first time—
They couldn't.
I turned toward the door.
As I stepped out into the morning light, my phone buzzed in my hand.
One message.
Keifer:
I woke up and you were gone. Tell me this isn't you running.
I smiled.
Not soft.
Not sharp.
Certain.
Jay:
No. This is me finishing something. I'll see you soon.
I slipped my phone back into my hand and walked away from the Fernandez house without looking back.
The night had broken me open.
Morning had made me whole.
And this time—
I was choosing my battles.
And my love....
My room still smelled like me.
Lavender. Old books. Safety I'd outgrown.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a second, breathing out the last of the tension coiled in my chest. My hands were steady now. That surprised me.
I showered quickly—hot water burning away the rain, the night, the ghost of hesitation. I scrubbed until my skin felt like mine again. Changed into jeans and a clean blouse. Pulled my hair back. Put my face on—not armor, just intention.
When I stepped out, towel still damp around my neck—
Aries was there.
Standing at the end of the hallway like he'd been waiting.
His jaw was tight. Eyes sharp. Hurt dressed up as authority.
"So it's true," he said. "All of it."
I didn't stop walking.
"Kuya Angelo told me," he continued, falling into step beside me. "About the engagement with yuri and, about you leaving. About him."
I reached the stairs.
"You're making a mistake, Jay."
That made me stop.
I turned slowly and looked at him—the boy who'd grown up with me,who hated me suddenly thought he knew the shape of my future better than I did.
"You don't get to say that," I replied calmly.
"He's not safe," Aries snapped. "You think choosing Keifer fixes everything? Men like him ruin things. They take and they leave and—"
"And what?" I cut in. "End up like you're afraid of becoming?"
His words stalled.
"You don't know him," Aries said, quieter now. "You don't know what you're giving up."
I stepped closer.
"You're right," I said. "I don't."
Then I met his gaze—steady, unflinching.
"But I finally know what I was losing by staying."
His face hardened.
"You'll regret this."
Maybe once, that would've stopped me.
It didn't now.
"Maybe," I said simply. "But it'll be my regret."
I walked past him.
Didn't look back.
---
The car felt like freedom.
I pulled out of the driveway, the Fernandez house shrinking in my rearview mirror until it was just another building with too many opinions.
At a red light, I picked up my phone.
Typed an address.
Sent it.
Jay:
Café Noir. 11:30. Don't be late.
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
Then—
Keifer:
On my way.
I smiled.
This time, it wasn't defiant.
It was calm.
The kind that comes when you stop running and start choosing.
The road opened up in front of me.
And for the first time in a long time—
I drove toward something I wanted...