Keifer's POV
The moment I hit send—"Jay-Jay… I'm not leaving things like this."—silence swallowed my car like a vacuum.
For three seconds, I just sat there, phone still in my hand, breathing like someone had kicked my ribs inward. The message glowed on the screen, too soft, too vulnerable, too real. Something I swore I would never let myself become again.
But this is Jay-Jay.
Jay-Jay, who used to laugh so loudly the Section E hallways echoed.Jay-Jay, who used to stand on her toes and flick my forehead when I was too serious.Jay-Jay, who used to whisper "Keifer, don't be so stiff," right before cursing on purpose just to make me kiss her.
Yeah. I still remember that stupid rule I made."If you curse, I kiss you."She weaponized it. Daily.
My hands curl tighter around the steering wheel as I pull the car onto the road, almost hearing her laugh in the memory. Light. Pure. Unfiltered.
Not like the quiet, distant version I met again in New York.
A version with eyes that no longer shine the way they used to.A version that flinched at the sound of her own name.A version that didn't call me stupid or dramatic when I deserved it.A version that avoided looking at me like I could shatter her if I tried.
I hate that version.
Because I created her.
Because my absence carved that silence into her bones.
The sky outside is already dark, smeared with rain clouds about to break. It matches the pounding in my chest. I drive faster—not reckless, but urgent—like every red light is personally mocking me.
She read the message.I know she did.
Jay never ignores things like that. She freezes. Panics. Overthinks.Her silence is louder than any reply.
"Damn it, Jay…" I mutter under my breath.My knuckles go white around the wheel.
I shouldn't have texted that.I should've just gone straight to her door without warning.I should've—
No.
I inhale, sharp and painful.
If there's one thing I learned, it's that Jay-Jay needs space just as much as she needs someone to force their way through her walls when she's drowning behind them.
She never chooses herself.She never fights for herself.Not unless someone pushes first.
My phone buzzes once.
Not from her.A calendar alert.
The date flashes.
The exact day she left Section E.The exact day I lost her.
A humorless laugh escapes my throat.
"Perfect."
I speed up again.
My thoughts keep circling her like they always do whenever the past claws back. I remember the way she used to wait by the school gate, bouncing on her heels when she saw my car arrive.
The way she used to lean over my shoulder from behind and steal fries from my plate.
The way she used to roll her eyes whenever a girl stared at me, then mutter,"Get your own man."
My jaw tightens.
She was mine.Not in a way that trapped her—never that.But in the way the sun belongs to the sky.In the way breathing belongs to living.In the way my heart never learned how to beat without thinking of her.
And I let her slip away.
I didn't chase her soon enough.Didn't find her fast enough.Didn't understand her suffering deep enough.
The rain hits the windshield, harsh, a relentless rhythm that mirrors the pressure in my chest. Every drop sounds like time I can't reclaim.
"What were you thinking, Jay…" I whisper."Leaving without a goodbye. Without a word."
But I know why now.I know the weight she carried.I know the guilt she kept hidden.
And God, I would've taken it all from her if she had let me.
I turn the final corner to her apartment building. My heart beats too fast, too loud, like it wants to crash through my ribs and run ahead of me.
Her floor-to-ceiling windows glow faintly from the outside. Warm light. Soft shadows.
She's awake.
Of course she is.
And she's probably pacing, overthinking, telling herself she shouldn't care.
She always tries to be stronger than she feels.Always tries to bury anything that might hurt her.And I know damn well that I'm one of those things.
The car glides into the parking space in a smooth, practiced motion. For a full minute after cutting the engine, I don't move. My head falls back against the seat, frustration and longing burning in my chest like gasoline.
"Talk to me…" I whisper into the empty car.
The rain keeps hammering down.She keeps staying silent.And I keep feeling like I'm losing her all over again.
Enough.
I grab my phone, my keys, shove the door open, and step into the storm. The cold rain hits my face, but my body feels too hot, too wound up, too full of things I never said.
My shoes splash against the pavement as I walk toward her building's entrance. The guard nods at me—recognition, respect, fear. I barely see him.
All I see is her door in my mind.
Her face.
The one she hides from everyone.
The one she never hides from me.
When I reach the elevator, my stomach tightens—not with nerves, but with resolve.
"I'm getting her back," I whisper under my breath.My voice is low, electric, dangerous."Even if she slams the door in my face."
The elevator doors close around me.
This time, I'm not letting her run.
Not again.Not ever.
The elevator doors slide open with a muted metallic sigh, and the floor of her building greets me with that same cold, polished quiet I remember from years ago—right before she left. Everything here feels too clean, too controlled, too… empty.
Just like she became after New York.
Just like I made her.
My steps echo down the hallway, low and steady, but my pulse is the complete opposite—loud, reckless, violent. I can still hear the last sound from my phone before I tossed it onto the passenger seat: the message I sent her.
Jay-Jay… I'm not leaving things like this.
I meant every damn word.
And now… I'm standing in front of her door.
I don't knock immediately.I just stand there for a moment and stare at the nameplate like it's something sacred. Her condo number. The one I memorized the moment I found out where she lived. The one I swore I'd stand in front of one day—not as a CEO, not as Watson Corp, but as the man who lost her and refused to accept that as the ending.
My hand rises to the door.
And I freeze.
Because on the other side… she's there.I can feel her.
She always had this warmth—this presence—that hit like sunlight even through walls. I used to stand outside her classroom back in college and know she was inside just from the way my lungs felt different.
Right now? My lungs hurt.
I knock.Soft. Controlled. A practiced gentleness I never used on anyone except her.
There's the faintest shuffle inside.
My heart clenches.
She's there.
"Jay-Jay…" My voice comes out lower than intended. "Open the door."
The hallway swallows my words, presses them back against me. I close my eyes, exhaling slow, steady, carefully measured breaths. I can't show the storm I'm holding inside. I can't slam my fist against the door like the part of me that's terrified wants to.
I need her to trust me.Even if she hates me.Even if she's shaking on the other side right now.
There's another tiny sound—light, hesitant. Her steps. She's close.
I lean forward until my forehead almost touches the wood.
"Please."
I haven't said that word to anyone in years.
Silence answers me. But I'm not fooled. She's listening. She's always listened to me more with her heart than her words.
My palms rest on either side of the frame. The position feels painfully familiar. Back in college, I used to box her in this way—locker behind her, my hands trapping her, my face inches from hers. I was possessive back then, maybe too much, but she never pushed me away.
She tugged my tie down and kissed me instead.
I swallow hard.
"Sweetheart…" My voice cracks—God, I hate that it cracks. "You don't have to be afraid of me."
The moment the words leave my mouth, memories hit me like a punch.
The way she used to curse just to trigger my rule so I'd kiss her.
The way she'd call me handsome just to watch me get flustered—and I did, every time.
The way she clung to my sleeve during her worst days, whispering, "Don't leave, Keifer."
And then she left.
No—she ran.
But I know why now.Or at least, I know pieces of why.The guilt. The pressure. The secret she guarded alone.And I let her.I let her carry everything by herself until she cracked under it.
My chest tightens viciously.
"I miss your voice…" I whisper before I can stop myself. "I miss the version of you that didn't know how to hide from me."
Still no sound from inside.
But I hear something else—her breathing.Shaky. Too shallow.
She's crying.
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts.
I step closer, lowering my head.
"You're not alone," I say quietly. "Not anymore."
Nothing.The silence becomes so thick I feel it pressing on my ribs. She's processing. Fighting herself. Fighting me. Fighting the ten years that built walls I want to tear down with my bare hands.
I rest my forehead fully against the door.
Damn it.If only she'd let me in.If only she'd let me see her.Just once.Just today.
The moment stretches dangerously long. But I stay there. I don't move. I don't storm off. I don't command. I don't demand.
I simply wait.
Like I used to wait outside her classroom door.
But this time, my hands are trembling.
I exhale again, voice barely above a breath.
"Jay-Jay… I'm still here."
Still nothing.
I don't know if it's the silence or my own exhaustion, but my throat burns. I straighten against the doorframe, pressing my palms flat against the cold surface.
"Sweetheart," I say softly, "you don't have to open it."
A pause.
"But don't pretend you can't hear me."
My voice drops, softer than the whisper of her memories.
"You don't have to be afraid of me."
And with those words, the entire hallway goes still.
She's listening.She's breathing.She's crying.
And I stay, unmoving, unbreathing, unshakeable—on the other side of a door separating me from the only girl who ever made me feel like a man instead of a perfectly polished monster the world created.
The silence settles.
And I wait.
I don't know how long I've been sitting here.
The hallway is silent, too silent, except for the uneven rhythm of my own breathing. My palms are pressed flat on either side of her doorframe, head hanging forward, elbows on my knees. I feel stupid, pathetic, desperate—but I stay.
Because she's in there.
I heard her.I felt her.
Jay-Jay always had a way of filling the air around her, even when she tried to hide. I can sense her even through a locked door and three years of distance.
"Dammit…"My voice breaks. Again.
I drag my hands down my face and exhale slowly, trying to get my heartbeat under control. I don't want to scare her. I don't want to push too hard. I don't want to be the reason she breaks again.
But… I already was.
That's what keeps crushing me.
My head dips lower until my forehead touches my knees. For the first time in years, I let myself say the things I never said—talking quietly because I assume no one can hear me. No one ever does.
Except maybe… her.
"I should've given you more," I whisper, eyes squeezing shut. "More patience. More time. More of myself."
My chest tightens, and the memory hits me like a punch—the girl who used to slam her locker so loud it echoed down the whole hallway. The girl who laughed without caring who stared. The girl who argued with me about everything—from movie plots to whether pineapple belonged on pizza.
Her fire.Her spark.Her loud, unapologetic love.
Gone.
Or maybe… buried.
And I'm responsible for that. I know it.
"I miss the old you…" I murmur, hating how weak I sound. "Bold. Stubborn. Bright. Loud."
A humorless breath leaves me.
"…God, I miss how you loved me."
The words scratch their way out of me, raw and unfiltered.
"I should've fought harder. I should've held you so tight you never doubted me. Never doubted us."
My throat closes.I lean my head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling light flickering above me.
"I should've chosen you every single time," I whisper to no one. "And I didn't. I know I didn't."
My hands fall uselessly to my sides.
"If I could go back… I would burn the whole damn world down before letting you walk away."
The hallway swallows my voice.
And then, quieter—barely a breath:
"…I miss the girl who wasn't afraid to love me."
I scrub at my jaw and look at her door again. My chest physically hurts.
She's right there.So close.So painfully out of reach.
"Jay-Jay…" I whisper, mostly to myself. "What do I have to do to make you open this door…?"
Nobody answers.
So I just sit there.
Waiting.
Because that's all I have left to offer.
Jay-Jay's POV
My hands are shaking so hard that I almost drop my phone.
The security feed is grainy, but not enough to hide him—his shoulders slumped forward, his head bowed, his fingers twisting with frustration as he talks to himself. Or maybe… to me.
I bring a trembling hand to my mouth, pressing hard to stop the sob threatening to break out.
He doesn't know I can see him.He doesn't know he's unraveling right in front of me.
And God… I wish I didn't have to watch this.
My chest feels like it's caving in as I stare at the screen. Every whispered confession punches straight through the armor I've spent years building.
"I should've given you more…"
I curl forward on the couch, hair falling over my face as tears slip down faster.
"No—Keifer—don't…" I whisper helplessly. "Don't say these things to me now."
Because part of me has waited years to hear them.And part of me knows it's too late.
I watch him drag his hands down his face, like he's trying to scrape off guilt that refuses to leave. I've seen Keifer angry, sarcastic, arrogant, teasing, irritating, infuriating—but this?
This broken version of him?This honest version?
It terrifies me.
He leans his head back against the wall, eyes closed, looking older, tired, worn in the way heartbreak makes people look older. And when his voice cracks while saying he misses the girl I used to be—
That's when something inside me collapses.
Because he's right.I'm not that girl anymore.
New York carved the noise out of me.Life carved the softness out of me.And he… he carved the courage out of me.
I wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie, but the tears just won't stop. They fall harder when he whispers:
"…I miss the girl who wasn't afraid to love me."
It feels like someone reached inside my chest and twisted every nerve.
The boy sitting outside my door isn't the storm I ran away from.
He's the one I fell in love with.The one I thought didn't love me enough to stay.The one who let me go without fighting.
And now he's sitting in a hallway, whispering regrets like prayers.
My fingers tighten painfully on the phone.
"Why now…?" I choke out, voice barely a breath. "Why say these things now, Keifer? When I've spent years trying to stop loving you?"
Another tear slips down.I wipe it angrily.
"Keifer… stop making me feel this."
My voice cracks on the last word.
I bury my face in my knees, phone still in my hand, his figure still glowing on the screen.
And outside my door…he waits.
The hallway silent.My heart loud.
And both of us drowning in the truth.
For a long time, I just stand there with my hand on the doorknob… frozen.
My chest is tight, my eyes burning, my whole body trembling like I'm 19 again and Keifer Watson is standing on the other side of the world I ruined.
Or the world that ruined us.
The world I ran from.
The world I'm still in love with.
I swallow hard. The taste of salt sits on my tongue. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my hoodie but it doesn't help — my tears were faster.
My heart is beating so loudly I'm sure he can hear it through the door.
He's right there.
Leaning against the wall.
Whispering things I shouldn't hear.
Missing me in ways that feel heavier than air.
And I…I open the door anyway.
It creaks softly, and the cold hallway air mixes with my breath. For one horrible, beautiful moment, the world stops moving.
Keifer's POV
The door moves.
I straighten instantly, every muscle locked in place. I don't even breathe. My eyes snap up—
And there she is.
Jay.
My Jay.
Except… no.Not the girl who used to argue with me about the temperature of ramen.Not the girl who stole my hoodies and walked like she owned every hallway.Not the girl who laughed loudly enough to drown out my bad days.
This Jay…Looks like she's been breaking alone for years.
Her eyes are swollen. Her cheeks streaked with tears. Her breath uneven like she's surviving more than living.
And something inside my chest — something I've spent years burying — cracks. Loudly.
"Jay…" I whisper, the word scraping out of me.
She lowers her gaze like she's ashamed I'm seeing her like this.
That hurts more than anything.
I step closer before I can stop myself.
Jay-Jay's POV
He sees everything.
Every crack.Every bruise my heart collected.Every piece of me I kept hidden from the world.
And instead of walking away, he steps toward me like he's afraid I'll disappear.
I flinch when his fingers hover near my cheek — not because I'm scared of him.I never was.
But because I don't feel worthy of being touched gently by him anymore.
He notices it.Of course he does.Keifer wasn't just observant — he was haunted by the things he loved.
His voice softens, painfully tender."Who made you cry?"
The answer sits on my tongue.I could say the world.I could say life.I could say myself.
But all that comes out is a broken breath.
He waits.And that… that's worse.
Keifer's POV
Her silence.Her trembling.The way her eyes shine like every memory is drowning her—
It makes something primal surge through me. Something violent. Something protective. Something I thought I lost.
But I choke it down.
I won't scare her.Not her.Not again.
"Jay…" My voice cracks. God, I didn't want that. "Sweetheart, look at me."
She does — slowly — and her eyes are a battlefield of hurt and history. I raise my hand again, slower this time, letting her see the intention, the softness, the begging.
When my thumb finally touches her cheek, her breath catches.
And mine stops completely.
Her skin is cold.Her face wet.Her heart… God, I can feel how tired it is without even touching her chest.
I move my other hand up, cradling her face like she's something fragile, something irreplaceable, something I've missed in ways I never admitted.
My forehead touches hers.
Her breath ghosts against my lips.
And I whisper, barely surviving the words—
"Did I do this to you?"
Jay-Jay's POV
His hands.
His forehead against mine.
His breath mixing with mine.
It's everything I swore I wouldn't let myself feel again.
My vision blurs instantly. The tears come so fast I don't even get to look away.
He pulls in a sharp breath like my pain is something he feels physically.
I want to lie.I want to say "no," to protect him, to protect myself, to protect the version of us that might still be saved.
But when Keifer touches me like this — gently, desperately, reverently — I remember how deeply he loved me.
How deeply I loved him.
How deeply it broke us.
"Jay…" he whispers again, voice trembling now. "Tell me. Please."
I close my eyes.
His thumbs wipe a tear that falls too fast.
And the confession I've kept buried for years pushes up my throat with a weight I can't swallow back.
"Keifer…" My voice cracks, shattering into pieces. "I don't know how to breathe around you anymore."
Keifer's POV
Her words hit like a knife.
Direct.Deep.Fatal.
I actually step back a half inch from how hard it stabs.
Her eyes flutter open, terrified she said too much, terrified she ruined something again, terrified of me — not physically, but emotionally.
And that's worse.
I swallow a sound that feels like a broken apology.
Because I did that.I hurt her enough that she forgot how to exist near me.I caused the silence in her bones.I turned the brightest girl I knew into someone afraid of her own heartbeats.
"Jay…" My voice is barely a whisper. "Sweetheart—"
But she looks at me like the words themselves are too heavy for her right now.
And I realize—
She's not just hurting.She's exhausted from carrying it alone.
So I don't move.I don't touch her again.I just stand there in her doorway, breathing the same air as her, hoping she can feel that I'm not leaving this time.
Not running.Not hiding.Not choosing anything over her.
The pain in her face slices through me, but I stay still.
Because this moment — her vulnerability, her truth, her trembling — it isn't something to fix instantly.
It's something to listen to.
To hold.
To understand.
The hallway is cold.The world is quiet.Her tears are warm on my hands.
And I think—
This is what breaking together feels like.
She stands in front of me, framed by the doorway like a ghost I've been chasing for years.Her eyes are red, tears slipping down the curve of her cheek even as she tries to blink them away.Jay crying is already enough to tear something vital out of me…but Jay crying because of me?
That's a wound I don't know how to survive.
I step closer — slow, careful, as if she'll break if I breathe too hard.
"Jay…" My voice cracks. Again. "I'm not leaving. Not now. Not again."
Her lower lip trembles. She shakes her head, not convinced, not steady.
"You make everything harder," she whispers.
God.Hearing her say that… it's like she reached inside my ribs and squeezed.
I swallow the lump in my throat. "Then open your heart to me," I say softly."Let me make it easier."
Her eyes flick up at me, wide and wounded, as if the world has been hurting her nonstop and she's tired of bleeding.
I inch forward until there's barely any space between us.She can feel my breath.I can feel her shaking.
Her voice shreds through the tension.
"Keifer… I'm scared."
I lift my hand, tracing the pad of my thumb across her lower lip — something I've wanted to do every day for years.She exhales sharply, like the touch itself knocks her breath out.
"Then run to me," I whisper.My forehead nearly rests on hers.I could kiss her if either of us moved even a millimeter.
"Let me be the one you run to," I breathe."Not the one you run from."
She freezes. Completely.
Her throat bobs, her eyes gloss over again, and when she speaks, her voice is barely a thread.
"Keifer… there's something I need to tell you."
Everything inside me goes still.
My breath stops.My hands go cold.Every muscle in my body locks as if preparing for impact.
I straighten slightly, not stepping away but steadying myself.
"What did you do, Jay-Jay?"My voice comes out quiet.Too quiet.Like I already know whatever she says next might end me.
Her lips part — slow, trembling, terrified.
And in the space between her inhale and my heartbeat…
…I feel my world tilt.
Jay-Jay's POV
The moment the words leave my mouth — There's something I need to tell you —Keifer goes stone-still.
His jaw tightens.His chest rises sharply, like he forgot how to breathe.His eyes… God. His eyes pin me in place.
"What did you do, Jay-Jay?" he whispers.
His voice isn't angry.It's worse.
It's scared.
And knowing that I caused that fear…my knees almost give out.
I grip the edge of the doorframe to steady myself because my heart is punching too fast, my lungs too tight. I feel exposed under his gaze, as if he can see every memory I've tried to bury — New York, that night, the reason I ran, the truth I never wanted him to hold.
I open my mouth.No sound comes out.
Keifer steps closer — so close his breath grazes my cheek. His hands hover near my face like he wants to touch me but is afraid he'll break me.
"Jay."Just my name.But it unravels everything.
I look at him — really look — and what I see nearly destroys me.
He's scared of losing me again.He's scared of what I'm about to say.He's scared because he still loves me.
And because I still love him…it hurts like hell.
He brushes his thumb beneath my eye, catching a tear before it falls.
"Sweetheart," he murmurs, voice barely steady."What are you trying so hard to hide from me?"
I feel myself shaking.Not from fear of him — I never feared him.But from fear of the truth.Fear of what it would do to him.Fear of what it would do to us.
My chest burns.
"I don't want you to hate me," I whisper.
His brows pull together, anger and heartbreak mixing on his face."Jay… I could never—"
But I cut him off with a trembling breath.
"You might."
Keifer stares at me like he's preparing for a fatal blow.
His voice turns rough."You're scaring me."
I look down.I can't say it while staring into his eyes.Not yet.
My fingers twist into the fabric of my shirt as if holding myself together.
"Just…" My voice cracks. "Just let me finish before you decide anything."
Keifer exhales slowly, like forcing himself to stay calm for me.
"I'm listening," he whispers."I'm right here."
The hallway is suffocatingly silent.My apartment feels too small.My throat feels too tight.
I look up at him — the boy I loved, the man I still can't stop loving, the person I left behind.
The guilt rises in my chest like a tidal wave.
"Keifer…"My voice breaks."There's something I've been hiding from you since New York."
His entire body tenses.
His hand slides gently to the back of my neck, steadying me, grounding me, begging me not to run.
"Jay-Jay," he murmurs, fear and desperation tangled in the way he says my name,"What did you do?"
I inhale — sharp, shaky.
And with tears slipping down my cheeks, I part my lips...
…ready to tell him something that will change every chapter that comes after this.
Keifer's eyes widen, bracing for impact.
My voice trembles:
"Keifer… I—"
The words catch.
Fear floods his expression.
The air between us fractures.
I try again, softer, breaking:
"There's something you deserve to know."
His hand tightens slightly on my jaw.His heartbeat slams against mine.His breath ghosts over my lips.
"Jay," he whispers,"don't do this to me…just tell me."
And I finally let the truth rise to the surface.
My lips part to speak—
—and the world goes silent.