The cemetery was a blur of gray as Sophia's grip tightened on Keifer's wrist.
He had been halfway to Jay, his heart screaming for him to pull her out of the mud, but Sophia pulled him back into the shadows.
"Don't," she whispered, her voice thick with her own tears. "If you go to her now, she'll just build the wall higher. She's at her limit, Keifer. If you trap her here, she'll never forgive herself for being caught. Let her come back on her own terms. Just give her that much."
Keifer's muscles were tense, vibrating with the urge to run to her, but he looked at Jay's small, shivering frame and realized Sophia was right.
Jay was a wounded animal; if he cornered her, she'd only bite harder.
They drove home in a silence so heavy it felt like the car was underwater.
Once inside, the "Happy Birthday" decorations looked like a mockery. Keifer didn't clean them up.
He went straight to their room and lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark.
His mind was a storm of her words: Monster. Promise. I love him.
He waited. Every minute felt like an hour.
It was nearly 4:00 AM when he heard the front door click. He heard her slow, dragging footsteps on the stairs.
He quickly closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to go shallow and steady. He had to know if she would still keep the mask on.
Jay entered the room like a ghost. She didn't turn on the light.
He heard her movements—the rustle of her wet clothes being shed, the sound of the shower running for a long time.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, the scent of soap couldn't hide the smell of rain and old grief that seemed to cling to her.
She moved toward the bed, her movements hesitant.
"How was your... meeting?"
Keifer asked, his voice low and feigned with sleepiness.
It was the hardest thing he had ever done—pretending he hadn't seen her breaking apart in the dirt.
He hated the lie, but he had to see if she would still choose it.
Jay froze. In the shadows, he saw her silhouette stiffen. She didn't look at him. She didn't even turn her head.
"Good," she said simply. Her voice was flat, dead, and utterly hollow.
She crawled into her side of the bed, keeping as much distance between them as the mattress would allow.
Through the darkness, Keifer could sense her curling into a tight, defensive ball. She was shivering—not from the cold, but from the sheer effort of holding herself together.
He lay only inches away, his arms aching to reach out and pull her against him.
He wanted to tell her he knew everything. He wanted to tell her that no "monster" could get to her as long as he was there.
But the silence between them was like a vast, frozen ocean.
He stayed still, pretending to sleep, while right next to him, the girl he loved was drowning in a silence that was louder than any scream.
Jay became a machine. She was no longer the girl who laughed or even the girl who argued; she was simply a presence that kept the house running.
Every morning, the breakfast was laid out perfectly. The garden was manicured, the floors were spotless, and the staff were managed with polite,. quiet efficiency.
She continued her secret ritual of caring for Keifer's father. She checked his vitals and ensured his room was comfortable, moving through the halls at night like a ghost.
She did everything expected of a daughter-in-law and more, but she did it without a single spark in her eyes.
Keifer and Sophia watched her from a distance. It was agonizing.
Every time Keifer saw her hands tremble as she set a plate down, he wanted to grab her and scream that he knew the truth.
But he remembered Sophia's warning. He stayed silent, observing, while he and Sophia quietly tried to dig into her past to find the identity of the "monster" she had cried out to.
2 days later, Keifer's mother returned . The atmosphere at the table shifted immediately.
"Jay, dear, you look like you haven't slept in a month," his mother said, looking at her with deep concern. "Sit down.
No more running off to the office today until you've had a proper breakfast with us. I insist."
Jay couldn't refuse her mother-in-law. She sat down stiffly, picking at a piece of toast.
Cheska, sensing the tension, saw an opening. She smirked, leaning back in her chair.
"It's no wonder she looks tired. Wandering out at 2:00 AM on her birthday... who knows what kind of 'meetings' she's really attending? It's quite embarrassing for the family, don't you think?"
Keifer gripped his fork so hard his knuckles turned white.
Usually, he would have snapped at Cheska immediately, but today, he remained silent.
He wanted to see if Jay would finally defend herself. He wanted to see if there was any fight left in her.
Jay didn't even look up. She just stared at her plate, accepting the insult as if she deserved it.
"That's enough, Cheska."
The voice didn't come from Keifer. It came from the head of the table.
Mr. Watson, Keifer's father, put his tab down and glared at Cheska.
His voice was stern and cold.
"If Jay was out, I'm sure she had a reason. She has been more attentive to the needs of this household than anyone else in this room lately. You, on the other hand, do nothing but gossip. Mind your own business or leave the table."
The room went dead silent.
His mother gasped, her hand flying to her chest, a look of shocked happiness crossing her face. She had never heard her husband defend anyone—least of all Jay.
Mr. Watson didn't look at Jay with sympathy.
He didn't offer a smile. He was still the same rigid man, but there was a flicker of something new in his eyes—respect.
He was taking her side, not out of love, but because of respect.
Jay's hand froze over her plate.
For the first time in days, a crack appeared in her mask. A single tremor went through her shoulders, but she quickly stood up, clutching her bag.
"Thank you, Father," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Excuse me. I'm late for the university."
She hurried out, leaving the family in a stunned silence. Keifer watched her go, his heart heavy.
Even with his father's unexpected support, Jay was still a bird looking for a cage to hide in.
A/n :
1100+ Words ✅
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