Chapter 49: one more day
Jay's POV
I woke up to sunlight and chaos.
Not metaphorical chaos. Actual, real chaos.
Specifically: Keifer Watson humming.
HUMMING.
Softly. Casually. Like he hadn't emotionally wrecked me for half my life and then crawled back into it with flowers, apologies, and that stupid soft voice that did dangerous things to my brain.
I opened one eye.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, hair damp like he'd just showered, sleeves rolled up, looking unfairly good for someone who had zero right to be this comfortable in my presence.
Jay: "Why are you making noise?"
Keifer: "Good morning to you too, sunshine."
Jay: "It's not morning until I say it is."
Keifer: "You've been asleep for ten hours."
Jay: "That's none of your business."
He turned to look at me, smile slow and lazy.
Keifer: "You snore."
Jay: "I do NOT."
Keifer: "You do this little—"
(he imitates a soft snore)
Keifer: "—thing."
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at his head.
He caught it.
Smiling.
I groaned and buried my face back into the mattress.
Jay: "Why are you awake."
Keifer: "Because I'm excited."
Jay: "About?"
Keifer: "You. Today. The fact that you didn't disappear overnight."
I froze.
Then, quietly:
Jay: "I wasn't going to."
Keifer didn't tease me this time. He just nodded like that answer mattered more than he'd admit.
Keifer: "Breakfast?"
Jay: "Coffee first."
Keifer: "Already ordered."
Jay: "You're annoying."
Keifer: "You love it."
I did not answer that.
---
Breakfast turned into a disaster.
Not because of the food—but because Keifer kept stealing from my plate.
Jay: "You ordered pancakes."
Keifer: "Yours taste better."
Jay: "You didn't even try them yet."
Keifer: "I don't need to."
I stabbed his hand with my fork. Gently. Mostly.
Keifer: "Violence?"
Jay: "Self-defense."
Honey and Alex joined us halfway through, both pretending very badly that they weren't absolutely obsessed with each other.
Honey was glowing. Alex was grinning like an idiot.
Jay: "You look suspiciously happy."
Alex: "I don't know what you mean."
Honey: "He's lying."
Alex: "I'm in love."
Jay: "I did not need to hear that before coffee."
Keifer: "I did."
Alex choked on his juice.
---
We spent the morning wandering through the city.
Markets. Small cafés. Streets that smelled like sea air and fresh bread.
Keifer walked beside me, close but not touching—like he was giving me space on purpose.
That somehow made it worse.
Jay: "You're being weird."
Keifer: "How?"
Jay: "You're not annoying me."
Keifer: "I'm trying to be respectful."
Jay: "I preferred annoying."
He smiled and bumped my shoulder.
Keifer: "There she is."
At one point, we stopped by the water. I sat on the edge, shoes off, feet in the sea.
Keifer crouched next to me.
Keifer: "You've changed."
Jay: "Good or bad?"
Keifer: "Stronger."
I looked at him.
Jay: "You don't get to take credit for that."
Keifer: "I know."
He paused.
Keifer: "But I regret that I wasn't there to see it happen."
That one landed.
I didn't respond. I just nudged water at him with my foot.
He splashed me back.
Jay: "Oh you did NOT."
Five minutes later, we were both soaked, laughing like teenagers, Honey yelling at us to act like adults, Alex filming everything.
---
In the afternoon, we went back to the hotel to rest.
I was sitting on the balcony, towel around my shoulders, hair still damp, watching the sun dip lower.
Keifer stepped out with two drinks and handed me one.
Jay: "What is this?"
Keifer: "Something non-alcoholic, before you panic."
Jay: "I don't panic."
Keifer: "You absolutely panic."
I took a sip.
Jay: "…Okay that's good."
Keifer: "I know."
We sat in silence for a bit.
Then:
Keifer: "Jay."
Jay: "Yes?"
Keifer: "When we go back home… things won't be like this."
Jay: "I know."
Keifer: "Meetings. Work. Responsibilities."
Jay: "Reality."
Keifer: "I don't want to lose you again."
I looked at him then. Really looked.
Jay: "You won't. Not like before."
Keifer: "Promise?"
Jay: "No."
He stiffened.
Jay: "But I'll try. And you will too."
He exhaled, slow.
Keifer: "That's enough."
The sun finally disappeared.
The day ended not with fireworks—but with something quieter.
Hope.
And somehow, that felt bigger.