JAY-JAY POV
*SKIP 2 MONTHS *
I'm so happy. In the last two months, Keifer and I grew closer than ever.
Every day felt lighter, every night felt safer.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking — I wish I had punched him sooner.
Maybe then we wouldn't have wasted those three years apart, tangled in silence and pride.
But that doesn't matter anymore.
What matters is now.
The way he looks at me like I'm his whole world.
The way his hand always finds mine, even in the smallest moments.
The way we laugh together, fight less, and love more.
I finally feel like I'm where I belong.
And I don't want to let go of this.
Thinking about how happy I'd been made me smile.
I wanted to surprise Keifer, to show up at his office not as his lawyer, but as his wife.
Everyone greeted me warmly as I walked through the halls.
I opened his office door, expecting his smile.
What I saw instead froze me in place. Keifer… kissing a random girl.
My breath caught.
My eyes widened.
He pulled back instantly, even more shocked than I was.
The girl glanced at me, smirked, and walked out without a word.
"Jay—" Keifer started, his voice desperate, trying to explain.
But I couldn't.
I didn't wait.
I turned and walked out, my chest tight, my throat burning.
I fought to control the tears, each step heavier than the last.
The happiness of the last two months shattered in a single moment.
I sat in the car, tears spilling faster than I could wipe them away.
Why? Why does happiness always slip through my fingers the moment I think I've found it?
I thought of Mom and Dad.
How I was happy with them, how their laughter filled the house.
Then the accident happened, and it took them from me.
One moment I had everything, the next I had nothing.
And now… Keifer.
The man I finally let myself trust, the man I thought would never hurt me.
Two months of closeness, of warmth, of believing we were finally safe together.
Shattered in a single moment.
I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel, sobbing quietly.
My chest ached, my heart felt torn open.
I wanted to scream, but all that came out was silence.
I didn't go home that night. I couldn't.
Instead, I booked a hotel room and stayed there overnight.
The room was quiet, too quiet compared to the noise of my thoughts.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the city lights outside the window.
Every flicker reminded me of what I had seen, of Keifer's lips on someone else's.
I got the papers ready. Every line felt heavy, but necessary.
I wasn't going to listen to his explanation.
It would probably be another excuse, another way to twist the truth.
I drove home that morning, the streets blurred through my tired eyes.
The hotel silence still clung to me, but now it was replaced with determination.
Walking into the house, everything felt different.
Keifer was there, looking tired and exhausted, his eyes heavy but searching. "Jay," he said softly.
Then his voice hardened. "Where the hell were you all night?" He reached out, trying to touch me.
"Don't." I stepped back quickly, my voice firm. "Don't touch me."
His hand froze mid‑air, his face tightening. "Jay, please… let me explain."
I shook my head, my chest aching. "Explain? You think there's an explanation for what I saw?"
He swallowed hard, guilt flickering in his eyes. "It wasn't what you think."
I laughed bitterly, tears threatening again. "Keifer, I saw it. I saw you. Don't tell me it wasn't real."
Silence hung heavy between us, the distance wider than any wall. For the first time, I felt like we were strangers again.
"Please," he said, his voice breaking.
"No. I'm not ready for your explanation," I replied, steady but trembling inside.
I handed him the divorce papers.
His eyes widened, shock flooding his face. "What is this?" he asked, his voice raw, almost pleading.
"I'm done, Keifer," I said firmly. The words tasted bitter, but they were mine.
He stared at the papers, his hands shaking. "You can't mean this… Jay, don't do this."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to cry. "I already did. I can't keep living like this, waiting for the next time you break me."
Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. For the first time, Keifer looked powerless. And for the first time, I felt like I had control.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
KEIFER POV
The past two months had been bliss. Jay and I were closer than ever, and for once, I felt like life was steady.
That morning, I buried myself in paperwork, the usual rhythm of the office. Then the door opened without a knock.
"Hi, Mr. Waston," a new girl said, stepping inside.
I frowned. "Don't you know how to knock?"
"I'm sorry," she replied, moving closer with a smile that didn't belong in a professional setting.
I leaned back in my chair, wary. "What do you need?"
She placed a folder on my desk, but her eyes stayed on me longer than they should. Her tone was light, almost playful. "I just wanted to introduce myself properly. I'm new here."
I nodded, keeping my voice clipped. "Fine. Welcome. Now, if that's all—"
But she didn't leave. Instead, she stepped around the desk, too close, her perfume filling the air. "Mr. Waston, you look tired. You should relax more."
I stiffened. "This isn't appropriate."
She tilted her head, smirk tugging at her lips. "Maybe not… but you don't look like you mind."
Before I could react, she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine.
Shock froze me in place.
And that was the exact moment the door opened.
Jay stood there, eyes wide, her smile collapsing into disbelief.
My heart dropped.
Her happiness, our two months of closeness — gone in an instant.
Before I could explain myself, she left. Her eyes full of hurt, her steps fast, and I couldn't stop her.
I went home, hoping she would be there.
Hoping she would give me a chance to speak, to fix what she thought she saw.
I searched every room, calling her name, but the house was empty.
The silence pressed against me, heavier than any words.
She didn't come home that night.
I sat on the couch, waiting, staring at the door, praying it would open.
Every sound outside made me think it was her.
But the hours passed, and she never came.
By morning, exhaustion weighed me down, but I stayed alert.
I couldn't lose her.
Not after everything we had rebuilt.
Then the door opened.
Jay walked in, her face unreadable, her steps steady.
For a moment, relief surged through me — she was here.
"Jay," I said, standing quickly.
But before I could move closer, she pulled out a stack of papers and placed them in my hands.
I looked down, my chest tightening.
Divorce papers.
"What is this?" I asked, my voice breaking, eyes filled with shock.
She met my gaze, firm and cold. "I'm done, Keifer."
The words hit harder than any blow.
And for the first time, I realized I might truly lose her.
Before I could say anything, she collapsed. Her body crumpled to the floor, her face pale, her breath shallow.
"Jay!" I shouted, rushing to her side.
I scooped her up in my arms, panic surging through me.
Her head rested against my chest, limp, and for the first time in my life, I felt powerless.
I didn't waste a second.
I carried her out, my heart pounding, and drove straight to the hospital.
Every red light felt like a curse, every second like an eternity.
"Hold on, Jay," I whispered, gripping her hand tightly as I sped through the streets. "You can't leave me. Not like this."
When we reached the hospital, nurses rushed to take her from me.
I stood frozen as they wheeled her away, the sound of monitors and hurried voices filling the air.
I wanted to follow, to stay by her side, but all I could do was wait.
And in that waiting, the weight of everything I had done pressed down harder than ever.