Chapter 14: The Distance Between Home and Hurt
Jay's POV:
The moment Rakki wrapped her arms around me, I broke.
All the walls, all the practiced smiles, all the sharp replies I'd used to hold myself together—gone.
Tears I'd buried for years spilled out of me, soaking her shoulder.
"He brought her home, Rakki," I whispered, my voice trembling. "His ex. The mother of his child. And he said it like it was nothing—like I was just another deal he signed."
Rakki stiffened, her hand freezing mid-pat on my back. Then, in true Rakki fashion, she said, "I'm gonna kill him."
A wet, broken laugh escaped me. "Get in line."
She pulled back, her eyes blazing with protective fury. "No, seriously, Jay. You just got out of the hospital, and he pulls this? What is wrong with that man?!"
"Everything," I muttered, curling up on her couch. "Absolutely everything."
Rakki sighed, grabbing a tissue box and tossing it at me. "You know what? Let me just—" she grabbed her phone, "—call the police, the press, the Pope, I don't care. He's dead."
"Don't," I croaked, half sobbing, half chuckling. "You'll end up in jail, and I'll have to bail you out."
"That's fine. I'll haunt him from my cell."
Silence fell after that—heavy but oddly comforting. She brought me a cup of tea and sat beside me, watching some random rom-com we didn't really pay attention to. The warmth of her apartment was a small mercy in a day that had shredded every ounce of peace I had left.
I don't know how long I sat there, staring blankly at the screen before Rakki's voice broke the stillness again.
"You love him, don't you?"
I froze. The tea halfway to my lips trembled slightly.
"I don't," I lied instantly, the word sharp and too quick. "It's a marriage of inconvenience. That's what it's meant to be."
Rakki hummed like she didn't believe a single syllable. "Sure, Jay. And I don't binge chocolate every time I'm mad."
Before I could snap back, a firm knock echoed through the apartment.
Rakki frowned. "It's almost midnight. Who the hell—"
The door swung open before she could even reach it.
"Keifer?"
My stomach twisted.
He stood there—tired, still in his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, eyes stormy. His gaze flicked from Rakki to me, and for a second, I saw something almost like relief wash over his face.
Rakki's jaw dropped. "How the hell did you even find out where I live?"
He gave her a dry, infuriating smirk. "I have my ways."
"Get out, Mr. Stalker of the Year," Rakki shot back, stepping in front of me like a guard dog.
"I'm not here for you," he said, tone clipped. "I need to talk to Jay."
"You've done enough talking," Rakki spat.
"Rakki," I said quietly. "It's fine."
She whirled on me. "Fine?! Jay, he brought his ex and child into your house! That's not fine, that's—"
"Please." My voice cracked on the word, and Rakki's expression softened.
She stepped aside reluctantly, glaring daggers at Keifer before muttering, "One wrong word and I'm calling security. Or a hitman."
Keifer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Noted."
He turned toward me. "Jay… we need to go home."
I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Home? You mean the house where your ex and love child are currently living rent-free?"
His jaw tightened. "It's not like that."
"Really? Because from where I stand, it looks exactly like that."
"Jay," he said quietly, his voice laced with exhaustion, "there's nothing between me and Ella. I only asked her to stay because I can't let the boy live in a place falling apart. I just wanted him safe."
I stared at him, my heartbeat uneven. "That's noble of you, Mr. Watson. You always were good at playing the hero."
"This isn't about being a hero," he said, frustration edging his tone. "It's about doing what's right."
"And bringing your ex into our home was right?"
He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "I didn't plan it, Jay. It just happened. And before you assume—no, I didn't know about the kid. I found out when you were in the hospital."
My chest ached at the memory. The hospital. The flowers. His quiet visits. The way he'd stayed until I woke up.
"So that's why you looked so wrecked," I murmured bitterly. "Not because of me."
"That's not true," he said instantly, and for a heartbeat, I saw something raw flash in his eyes. "I was worried about you. Still am."
"Don't," I warned, voice trembling. "Don't act like you care. It makes this harder."
He hesitated, his gaze softening. "Jay, you just got out of the hospital. You shouldn't have run off like that. The media's been circling ever since Ella showed up. Your ex has been posting crap all day. You're everywhere online."
I blinked. "What?"
"Pictures, headlines, theories. You alone near the shore, crying. You think no one saw, but the paparazzi did."
My breath caught. "You're lying."
He shook his head. "I wish I was."
A silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. He looked at me for a long time, then sighed.
"Jay… you're jealous."
I nearly choked. "Excuse me?"
He smirked faintly, leaning closer. "Admit it. That's why you're mad."
I shoved him back, heat rising to my cheeks. "Don't flatter yourself. This is just a marriage of inconvenience, remember? I don't love you."
The smile on his lips vanished—just like that.
His expression shuttered, voice suddenly distant. "Right. Of course."
The silence that followed was louder than any argument we'd had before.
Finally, I whispered, "I'll go back."
His eyes flicked to mine in surprise.
"But only because I'm not giving her the satisfaction of thinking she won."
Rakki folded her arms. "You heard her. But if you ever pull this crap again, Watson, I'll bury you under that fancy lawn of yours."
Keifer almost smiled, though his eyes didn't match the expression. "Duly noted."
The car ride home was… quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that buzzed with everything unsaid.
I kept my gaze fixed on the window, the city lights streaking by like memories I wanted to forget. He didn't try to speak again. Didn't try to reach out.
And somehow, that hurt even more.
Because maybe—just maybe—I wanted him to.