The mansion was finally quiet again.
Not the polite quiet of ceremonies or the observant silence of parents—but the deep, late-night stillness where even the walls seemed to sleep.
Jay slipped her dupatta aside and peeked down the corridor, listening. Nothing. No footsteps. No voices.
She turned back to Keifer, eyes sparkling. "Clear."
He grinned like this was his favorite kind of trouble. "I married you for this exact reason."
They moved carefully, barefoot, their steps light against the marble floor. The same mansion that once felt watchful now felt like an old accomplice—every shadow familiar, every corner known.
Keifer paused near the back staircase, holding out his hand. Jay took it without hesitation.
"Where are we going?" she whispered.
"Somewhere that doesn't involve advice or tea," he murmured back.
She stifled a laugh.
They slipped through the side door and into the cool night air. The gardens stretched wide and open, moonlight silvering the paths, flowers heavy with scent. Somewhere in the distance, a fountain murmured softly.
Jay exhaled, shoulders relaxing instantly. "I forgot how different it feels out here."
Keifer watched her closely. "Different how?"
"Like we're not being watched," she said. "Like we're just… us."
He laced his fingers through hers. "That's the whole point."
They followed the stone path past the hedges, toward the old gazebo tucked away at the edge of the property—the place they'd escaped to countless times before, when everything else felt too loud.
Jay sat on the low railing, swinging her feet lightly. "Do you think they'll notice?"
Keifer shrugged. "Eventually."
She raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And by then, we'll already be back," he said, leaning in closer. "Married people get more grace."
She laughed softly. "I'm not convinced."
They sat there for a while, sharing quiet stories, laughter slipping free without effort. The kind of laughter that only comes when there's no pressure left to perform.
Keifer rested his arm behind her, drawing her closer until her shoulder pressed into his chest. "You know," he said quietly, "I used to sneak out just to breathe."
Jay tilted her head to look at him. "And now?"
"Now I sneak out to live," he replied simply.
Her expression softened. She leaned in, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "I like this version of us."
He smiled, pressing a kiss to her temple—gentle, unhurried, full of promise.
Eventually, the night deepened, the air cooling just enough to remind them they couldn't disappear forever.
Jay sighed. "We should go back before someone notices."
Keifer groaned dramatically. "See? Marriage already comes with responsibilities."
She nudged him. "You're impossible."
"And you love it."
She didn't deny it.
Hand in hand, they slipped back through the garden, quiet and careful, laughter barely contained. When the mansion door closed softly behind them, Jay glanced around, heart full.
Nothing had changed.
And everything had.
They made it back to their room without being caught—though Keifer's smile suggested he wouldn't have minded if they were.
Jay kicked off her sandals and collapsed onto the bed, laughing. "We got away with it."
Keifer joined her, turning onto his side to face her. "Told you. Married perks."
She smiled at him, content, peaceful in a way she'd never known before.
Sneaking out hadn't been about escape anymore.
It had been about choosing each other—again.