Jay realized something that night.
Peace didn't mean silence.
It meant not flinching when her phone vibrated.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing out her hair, when her mother's name lit up the screen.
She stared at it.
Longer than necessary.
Keifer was at the desk, flipping through a file.
He noticed the stillness before he noticed the call.
"You don't have to pick it up," he said gently.
Jay swallowed.
"I know."
The phone kept ringing.
And for once… she didn't panic.
She declined the call.
A soft click.
A small sound.
A huge decision.
Keifer's eyes lifted.
Not shocked.
Proud.
Jay set the phone down like it might burn her.
Her voice trembled just a little.
"She'll be angry."
Keifer closed the file and stood.
"So what?"
The words weren't careless.
They were steady.
Jay let out a breath.
"No one's ever said that to me before."
He came to stand in front of her.
"Jay… you don't exist to keep everyone comfortable."
The sentence landed hard.
In a good way.
She nodded slowly.
Then her phone buzzed again.
A message.
She didn't open it.
Instead, she looked up at him.
"Can we go out?" she asked suddenly.
Keifer blinked.
"Out?"
"Just… out," she said quickly.
"No drivers. No staff. No schedule."
His mouth curved into a small smile.
"I was waiting for you to ask."
—
They took his car.
No security.
No announcements.
Just music low in the background and the city lights sliding past the windows.
Jay rested her forehead against the glass.
"This feels illegal," she whispered.
Keifer laughed softly.
"It's called normal."
She smiled.
They stopped at a tiny roadside café.
Nothing expensive.
Plastic chairs.
Warm lights.
A place where no one knew her name.
Jay stared at the menu like it was a miracle.
"You can order first," Keifer said.
She hesitated.
Always waited.
Always checked.
"I'll have…" her voice wavered, then steadied,
"chocolate pancakes."
Keifer raised an eyebrow.
"Dinner?"
She shrugged.
"I want them."
He grinned.
"Perfect choice."
They sat across from each other.
Close.
But not crowded.
Jay took the first bite.
Her eyes widened.
"Oh."
Keifer smirked.
"Life changing?"
She nodded seriously.
He watched her like this was the best thing he'd seen all day.
Between bites, she spoke softly.
"My parents won't like this."
Keifer leaned back in his chair.
"I know."
She waited for the lecture.
The compromise.
It never came.
"But I do," he said simply.
Her fork froze.
She looked at him.
"You don't even ask what I might lose."
Keifer tilted his head.
"I'm more interested in what you finally get."
Jay felt something shift.
Not dramatic.
Not loud.
Just… real.
When they got back into the car, her phone buzzed again.
This time, she glanced.
A message from her mother.
You're being irresponsible.
Jay stared at the words.
Her chest tightened.
Old fear rose.
Keifer noticed.
He didn't touch her.
Didn't interrupt.
Just waited.
Jay locked the phone.
Set it face down.
And leaned back in her seat.
"I'm not," she said quietly.
Keifer started the engine.
"I know."
And in that small moving car,
with the city slipping past them,
Jay felt the first real crack in the life
that had always owned her.