KEIFER POV
I went to Jay and helped her stand.
She wobbled a little but managed to get up.
He must've mixed alcohol into whatever he gave her.
That's the only thing that made sense.
When we stepped out of the café, she suddenly stopped and bent down to take off her heels.
She held them out without looking, and I grabbed them before they could fall.
"Jay," I said softly, moving beside her.
I reached for her hands, trying to steady her.
She jerked back immediately. "Get your hands off me."
What?
I tried again, gently this time, just to keep her from stumbling.
She stepped closer, looked right at me… and smiled.
But it wasn't her smile.
It was unfocused, confused, almost mocking.
"Eww," she said, scrunching her nose. "You smell like him. Get off me."
She pulled her hands away and even flicked mine like they were dirty.
For a second, I just stood there, stunned.
What?
I sniffed myself.
Nope. I didn't smell bad. I smelled like my usual cologne — the one she used to like.
I walked back to Jay, still confused.
"Jay… do I smell bad?" I asked.
She looked at me, squinted, then shook her head dramatically.
"You actually smell good," she said, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.
I couldn't help it — I smiled.
But then she added, "But you smell like that asshole. That… Kwanan."
I blinked.
"Kwanan?" I repeated in my head.
Who the hell is Kwanan?
I didn't know if she was mixing up names, inventing new ones, or confusing Liam with someone else entirely — but whatever she meant, she clearly wasn't in her right mind.
"Jay, who is Kwanan?" I asked.
She didn't say anything.
"Jay?" I tried again, softer this time.
Nothing.
She just kept walking — barefoot, heels in my hand — like she hadn't heard me at all.
"You asshole," she said suddenly, just as we reached the car.
I froze. "What?"
She grabbed my collar — not steady, not strong, but desperate.
Her fingers curled into the fabric like she needed something to hold onto.
"Why didn't you search for me for four years?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "I hate you so much… but why do I feel sad when you do?"
Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, but the pain in them was real.
She gripped my collar harder, her voice shaking.
"You want to know what happened these four years?" she said, breath uneven. "Fine. Listen."
Her eyes were glossy, unfocused, but the pain in them was sharp.
"You think I disappeared because I wanted to?" she whispered. "I was surviving, Keifer. Every single day."
Her voice cracked.
"I woke up alone. I went to sleep alone. I raised three kids alone. I worked jobs I hated just to keep the lights on. I cried in bathrooms so they wouldn't hear me."
She swallowed hard, blinking like the world was spinning.
"You weren't there when I was sick. You weren't there when I couldn't afford food. You weren't there when they asked me why they didn't have a dad."
Her grip loosened, fingers trembling.
"I had to be strong every second. I didn't get to fall apart. I didn't get to rest. I didn't get to breathe."
A tear slipped down her cheek — she didn't even seem to notice.
"And the worst part?" she whispered. "I kept waiting. For you. For a message. For anything."
She looked up at me, eyes full of hurt and confusion.
"I hate you so much," she said softly. "But why does it still hurt when you do?"
Her knees buckled, and she leaned into me, her breath warm against my chest.
I held her automatically, terrified she'd fall.
"You're such an asshole," she whispered, voice trembling. "You came back and expect me to talk to you like everything is fine."
My throat tightened.
I felt the tears before I even realized they were falling.
"Jay…" I tried, but the word barely came out.
She looked up at me — eyes glassy, hurt, unfocused but painfully honest.
"You know," she said, voice cracking, "I'm not even mad about that night you forced me into you that night"
Her fingers curled weakly into my shirt.
"But what hurt me the most…"
She swallowed hard.
"…is that even you believed I would do something like that."
The world stopped.
I looked at her — really looked at her — and everything inside me twisted.
"I'm sorry, Jay," I whispered, voice breaking. "I know I should've been there for you."
The tears came before I could stop them.
Four years of guilt, confusion, anger, and regret crashing into one moment.
She blinked slowly, her expression softening in a way that hurt even more.
Then she lifted her hand — unsteady, trembling — and wiped my tears away with her thumb.
The gentleness of it nearly destroyed me.
"Jay…" I whispered, but she wasn't looking at me anymore.
Her eyes drifted, unfocused, like she was staring at something far away.
Then she leaned in closer, her lips almost touching my collarbone, her voice barely a breath.
"I waited for you," she whispered.
My heart stopped.
She swallowed, her forehead pressing weakly against my chest.
"I told myself you'd come back," she murmured, her words slurring at the edges. "Every night… I told myself you'd find me."
Her fingers loosened in my shirt.
"I hated you for leaving…"
A shaky inhale.
"…but I hated myself more for still hoping."
My chest tightened so hard it hurt.
"Jay—"
But she didn't hear me.
Her body suddenly went limp, her weight collapsing into my arms as her knees gave out completely.
I caught her before she hit the ground, pulling her against me, her head resting against my shoulder.
"Jay!" I said, panic rising in my throat.
But she didn't respond.
Her breathing was soft, steady… peaceful.
Like she hadn't just broken open in my arms.
Like she hadn't just said the things that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
For a second, I just stared at her — her head resting against my shoulder, her lashes brushing her cheeks, her face finally relaxed after everything she'd been carrying.
She looked exhausted.
Not just tired — drained.
Like the last four years had finally caught up to her all at once.
I swallowed hard and shifted my grip, lifting her gently.
She didn't even stir.
I carried her to the car, every step careful, terrified I'd wake her or hurt her or… lose her again.
When I opened the passenger door, she slumped against me, her hand brushing my chest like she was still reaching for something in her sleep.
"Jay…" I whispered, even though I knew she couldn't hear me.
I settled her into the seat, buckling the belt around her.
Her head tilted to the side, resting against the window, her hair falling over her face.
I brushed it back without thinking.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
"I'm sorry for putting you through that," I whispered, even though she couldn't hear me. "But I'm back now… and I'll do anything to earn your trust again."
Her breathing stayed slow, steady.
Peaceful.
Like she hadn't just broken me open ten minutes ago.
I closed the door gently and walked around to the driver's side, wiping my face with the back of my hand.
The tears wouldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried.
The drive home felt longer than it should've.
When we reached home, I got out quietly and opened her door.
She didn't wake, didn't stir, didn't even frown.
I slid one arm under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her in bridal style.
She fit against me like she always had — like no time had passed at all.
Her head fell against my shoulder, her breath warm on my neck.
When I stepped into the house, the kids were already waiting in the hallway, eyes wide and worried.
"What happened to Mama?" Kevin asked
"She's sleeping," I said gently.
"Did you guys eat?"
Three small heads nodded.
"Good. Now go to sleep. Your mama is tired."
They nodded again and padded off to their room, still glancing back at Jay as if she might disappear if they looked away too long.
I carried her upstairs, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the lights.
The maids had already cleaned her room — fresh sheets, folded blankets, everything neat.
I laid her down carefully, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
She looked peaceful.
Too peaceful, considering everything she'd said tonight.
I turned to leave, my chest tight, my hand already on the doorknob—
And then I felt it.
Her fingers wrapped around my wrist.
Weak.
Shaky.
But desperate.
"Don't leave me again, Keifer… please."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Stay."
My heart dropped.
I turned back slowly.
Her eyes were half‑open, unfocused, but the fear in them was real.
Raw.
Like she was terrified I'd vanish the second she let go.
"Jay…" I breathed, my voice cracking.
She tightened her grip — as much as she could in her exhausted state.
"Stay," she repeated, softer this time. "Just… stay."
I sat beside her, letting her hand rest in mine, my thumb brushing over her knuckles.
"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered. "Not tonight. Not again."
She exhaled, a tiny, relieved sound, and her hand loosened as she drifted back into sleep.
I stayed right there, watching her breathe, feeling the weight of four years settle on my shoulders.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
JAY-JAY POV
I woke up to strong arms wrapped around my waist.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
For a second, I let myself enjoy it — the steady breathing behind me, the heat against my back, the way his hand rested just above my hip like it belonged there.
Then I made the mistake of turning around.
And saw him.
That big snake.
That absolute asshole.
Keifer.
My eyes snapped open fully.
Of course he was sleeping peacefully, like he didn't cause emotional earthquakes wherever he went.
Like he didn't break my heart last night and then carry me home like some dramatic hero.
Ugh.
I tried to wiggle out of his arms, but he tightened his grip in his sleep.
Great.
Just great.
Trapped.
In the arms of the man I hate.
The man I waited for.
The man who ruined my life and then had the audacity to smell good while doing it.
I swear, if he doesn't wake up soon, I'm biting him.
Then last night came back.
Piece by piece.
Word by word.
Emotion by embarrassing emotion.
Ugh.
Why did I even say those words?
Why did I open my stupid mouth?
Why did I tell him—of all people—that I waited for him?
I buried my face in the pillow.
Great.
Amazing.
Fantastic.
I confessed four years of pain, trauma, and emotional damage…
to the one man who absolutely did not deserve to hear it while I was half-asleep and dizzy.
And now he was wrapped around me like some oversized emotional support snake.
I tried to wiggle out of his arms again.
Nope.
Still trapped.
Perfect.
Just perfect.
Then I looked at him.
And—
ugh.
Why did he look more handsome?
No.
No no no.
My face is better. Obviously.
Stop thinking, Jay. Stop it right now.
Before I could shut my brain up, that snake opened his mouth.
"If you want to kiss me, then do."
I blinked.
Excuse me?
Without thinking—
without even giving my brain a chance to process—
I shoved him.
Hard.
He rolled right off the bed and hit the floor with a thud.
"Ahh!" he yelled.
I bit back my laugh so fast my cheeks hurt.
Serves him right.
Coming into my bed.
Holding me like that.
Saying things like that first thing in the morning.
I peeked over the edge of the bed.
He was on the floor, hair messy, blanket tangled around his legs, looking personally betrayed by gravity.
Good.
Maybe next time he'll think before talking.
"Jay, why did you do that?" he asked from the floor, sounding personally offended.
I didn't even look at him.
I got up, grabbed my towel, and walked straight to the bathroom.
Didn't answer.
Didn't glance back.
Didn't give him the satisfaction.
Asshole.
I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, exhaling.