The following afternoon, the grand estate felt heavier than ever. Keifer had left before dawn, wrapped in a fresh armor of conference calls and security briefings, leaving Jay alone with the endless quiet of the high-ceilinged corridors. She spent the hours mechanically checking on the twins, going through the motions of motherhood while a persistent, hollow ache settled behind her ribs.
She was sitting in the sunroom, staring blankly at a half-finished cup of cold tea, when the heavy oak doors of the foyer swung open and familiar, chaotic footsteps echoed down the hall.
David didn't bother waiting for a butler to announce him. He waltzed into the sunroom wearing a violently bright floral silk shirt that clashed entirely with the somber, muted tones of the Watson estate, a massive takeout bag swinging from one hand.
He stopped dead in his tracks the second he looked at her.
David's breezy, easygoing expression vanished instantly. He dropped the bag onto a nearby table, crossed the room in three long strides, and crouched down right in front of Jay's chair, peering closely into her face with sharp, perceptive eyes.
"Okay, spill," David said, his voice dropping the usual teasing edge. "You look like a ghost who just realized she forgot how to haunt. Has someone crossed you, or did Keifer accidentally buy the wrong brand of imported sparkling water again?"
Jay managed a weak, paper-thin smile, shaking her head. "I'm fine, David. Just... tired."
"Liar," David snorted, folding his arms and leaning back on his heels. "I've known you long enough to recognize the 'I'm carrying the weight of the universe and refusing to complain' face. You look miserable. And when the most dramatic, stylish girl I know looks miserable in a custom cashmere sweater, society is officially collapsing."
"I'm not miserable," she protested softly, though her voice lacked any real conviction.
"Right. And I'm the heir to a peaceful, uneventful life," David muttered. He stood up, scanned the room, and suddenly a wildly mischievous light danced in his eyes. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his floral shirt, ruffled his hair until it stood up in wild, chaotic tufts, and struck a fiercely dramatic model pose, planting one hand on his hip and pouting his lips like a high-fashion runway star.
"Behold," David announced in an absurdly deep, theatrical whisper. "The majestic, untamed beast of the Watson estate: a tired mother trying to figure out why her friend insists on dressing like a walking Hawaiian vacation."
Jay blinked, caught entirely off guard.
"What are you doing?" she breathed, a tiny crack appearing in her stoic armor.
"Attempting CPR on your sense of humor, obviously," David deadpanned, immediately breaking the pose to launch into an impeccably terrible, uncoordinated dance routine right across the middle of the pristine white Persian rug. He hummed a wildly out-of-tune pop song, throwing his arms around like a malfunctioning robot while making direct, intense eye contact with her to ensure she witnessed every single ridiculous second.
A startled, breathy sound escaped Jay's lips.
"Stop it! You look ridiculous," she muttered, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"Not ridiculous—iconic," David corrected grandly, spinning around and nearly tripping over a velvet footstool before catching his balance with an exaggerated gasp. "Look at me! I am the high-society savior of your afternoon. Laugh, woman. That is a direct royal command from Section E."
The absurdity of it, combined with the genuine, fierce warmth behind David's silly performance, finally broke the dam.
Jay let out a sharp, genuine laugh—the first real laugh she had emitted in weeks. It bubbled up from somewhere deep inside, light and cascading, sweeping away the heavy, suffocating silence of the estate.
David stopped dancing instantly, a soft, immensely pleased grin spreading across his face as he watched the tension finally drain out of her shoulders. He walked back over, pulled up a chair right beside her, and gently bumped his shoulder against hers.
"There she is," David said quietly, his tone softening into something steady and comforting. "You don't have to carry it all by yourself, you know. Even queens are allowed to put the crown down once in a while."
Jay looked at him, the sting of loneliness in her chest receding just a fraction, realizing that even when the house felt empty and Keifer was miles away, she wasn't entirely alone.