wasn't easy for Jay to say it.
Not because she was afraid of what Keifer would do.
But because she was afraid of what she'd done to him without meaning to.
She stood in the living room while Keifer sat at the edge of the couch, still quiet, still steady. His expression was calm, but his eyes were tired—like the distance had worn him down.
Jay took a deep breath.
"I need to tell you something," she said.
Keifer didn't move. He just looked at her, waiting.
Jay's voice was small. "The reason I've been distant… it wasn't because I didn't care."
Keifer's gaze stayed on her, patient.
"It was because I was helping someone," she continued. "And I didn't want you to think I was choosing them over you."
Keifer's eyes flickered.
Jay swallowed, forcing herself to continue.
"There's this employee," she said. "He… he's been struggling. Not just with work. With personal things too. I didn't want to involve you because I didn't want you to worry."
Keifer's jaw tightened slightly, but he didn't speak.
Jay's voice shook now. "I kept staying late. I kept answering messages. I kept helping him. And I didn't realize how much I was slipping away from you."
She looked down. "I didn't want to tell you because I thought you'd think I was hiding something."
Keifer's eyes softened, but his silence stayed.
Jay's breath caught. "I didn't want you to feel like I was… leaving you."
Keifer finally spoke, quietly.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" he asked.
Jay's eyes filled. "Because I thought you'd get angry. Because I thought you'd think I was being careless. Because I thought… you'd think I didn't trust you."
Keifer's face remained calm, but his voice carried a quiet pain.
"I didn't feel like you trusted me," he said.
Jay flinched, as if struck.
"I didn't mean it like that," she whispered. "I just didn't want you to misunderstand."
Keifer's eyes searched hers. "You didn't think I'd understand."
Jay shook her head, tears falling now. "I thought you'd think I was choosing him."
Keifer's expression softened further, but his voice stayed steady. "You should never have assumed that."
Jay's shoulders trembled.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to make you feel left out. I didn't mean to make you feel… replaceable."
Keifer's breath hitched, but he didn't let it show.
He stood up slowly and walked toward her, not touching her yet—just standing close enough that she could feel his presence.
"I didn't feel replaceable," he said softly. "I felt… forgotten."
Jay's eyes widened, and she stepped closer, shaking.
"I didn't forget you," she whispered. "I was trying to help someone who needed me."
Keifer nodded once, like he was taking it in.
"But you didn't let me in," he said quietly. "And that's what hurt."
Jay's tears fell harder.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I should've told you. I should've asked you to understand."
Keifer's voice softened, almost tender. "You should've trusted me."
Jay nodded, voice breaking. "I do trust you."
Keifer looked at her for a long moment.
Then, quietly, he reached out and took her hand.
"I know," he said. "But I need you to show it."
Jay swallowed hard. "I will."
Keifer held her hand gently. "Good."
The silence that followed wasn't empty.
It was real.
And for the first time in days, Jay felt like she was not just forgiven—
But understood.
Keifer didn't say much after Jay explained. He didn't need to. His silence wasn't cold this time. It was steady, like he was choosing his next move carefully.
When Jay finished, he just nodded once.
"Okay," he said quietly.
Jay's eyes widened. "That's it?"
Keifer looked at her, calm. "That's enough for now."
Jay swallowed. "But—"
Keifer interrupted softly, "I don't want you to carry everything alone anymore."
Jay stared at him, stunned. "I'm not carrying everything alone."
Keifer's gaze didn't leave hers. "You were. And I noticed."
Jay blinked, tears still in her eyes. "I'm sorry."
Keifer's voice softened. "You don't have to keep apologizing."
Jay nodded, still trembling. "Okay."
He released her hand gently, and for the first time since the distance began, he smiled—small, quiet, but real.
"Tomorrow," he said, "we go together."
Jay frowned. "Together where?"
Keifer's eyes were calm but determined. "To talk to him."
Jay's stomach tightened. "You don't have to do that."
"I do," he said. "Because you didn't bring me into it. And because if you're helping someone, I want to help too."
Jay's throat tightened. She didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or terrified.
"Are you sure?" she asked softly.
Keifer nodded. "Yes."
The next day, Jay was nervous in a way she hadn't been in months.
Keifer walked into the office with her, not as her boss, not as her partner, but as someone who had chosen to be involved. Jay's coworkers noticed immediately—there was a difference in the way Keifer moved through the space. He wasn't distant or cold. He was present.
They found the employee in the lounge area, head down, looking exhausted.
Jay took a breath and stepped forward. "Hey," she said gently.
He looked up, surprised. "Oh—Ms. Jay."
Keifer stood beside her, calm. "Hi."
The employee looked between them, confused.
Jay spoke first. "I've been helping him with some things lately."
Keifer nodded. "I know."
The employee's eyes widened. "Sir—"
Keifer held up a hand. "Call me Keifer."
The employee swallowed. "Okay… Keifer."
Jay felt her chest tighten. She didn't want this to be awkward.
Keifer continued, voice steady. "I'm not here to reprimand anyone. I'm here to understand."
Jay glanced at him, stunned. He was doing this—really doing it.
The employee looked at Jay. "I didn't mean to cause problems."
Jay shook her head quickly. "You didn't. I just… didn't want to drag anyone else into my personal life."
Keifer nodded. "We're not here to blame anyone."
He turned to the employee. "If you're struggling, tell us. If you need support, ask. We can't help if we don't know."
The employee hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you."
Jay exhaled, relief flooding her.
Keifer placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a quiet gesture that said: I'm here. I'm with you.
That evening, when they got home, the air felt lighter.
Jay made tea again, and Keifer didn't sit far away like before. He sat close—close enough that she could feel his presence without feeling crowded.
She looked at him, still a little unsure. "You didn't have to do that today."
Keifer shrugged, calm. "I did."
Jay smiled softly. "Thank you."
Keifer looked at her, and this time his voice carried warmth. "I want you to know you don't have to protect me from things."
Jay's eyes softened. "I was trying to protect you."
Keifer shook his head gently. "You don't need to protect me from caring."
Jay nodded slowly, like she was finally understanding.
They sat together, quiet, and for the first time in a long time, the silence felt like a promise.
Not a perfect one.
But a real one.