Jay ran upstairs without a word.
She didn't look back.
Her chest felt tight, heavy.
Her heart… shattered quietly.
Keifer's mom was in the hallway, folding laundry.
"Jay?" she asked softly.
Jay collapsed into her arms without hesitation.
Sobbing. Trembling.
"I… I can't…" Jay choked out between tears.
"I can't do anything when… when Ivy…"
Her words trailed off.
Keifer's mom pulled her closer, holding her tightly.
"It's okay, beta," she whispered gently.
"Let it out. I'm here."
Jay shook, burying her face into her mom's shoulder.
"She kissed him… and I…"
Her voice cracked.
"I couldn't stop it. I didn't even know what to do. I—"
Keifer, who had been passing the hallway, froze.
He didn't move.
He didn't interrupt.
He just listened.
Every word from Jay cut him deep.
The way she sounded small.
The way her hands clutched at his mom's shirt as if she could hold onto something safe.
Her mom stroked her hair gently.
"I know it hurts, beta," she said softly.
"I see how much you care for him. And it's okay to feel this way."
"I don't… I don't want to lose him," Jay whispered through tears.
"I can't…"
Keifer's chest tightened.
He could feel every tremor in her body.
Every broken sigh.
Every silent plea.
Her mom kissed the top of her head.
"You won't lose him, Jay. I promise you, I'm on your side."
Jay leaned further into her, letting the tears flow freely now.
"I just… I love him so much," she cried.
"It hurts so much to see her… to see him…"
Keifer's heart ached.
He realized—he hadn't understood before how deeply she felt, how much Ivy's presence, her closeness, her kiss… had shaken her.
He stood there quietly, watching.
Silent. Respectful. Pained.
Her sobs softened against his mom's shoulder.
But Keifer couldn't look away.
He couldn't stop himself from feeling responsible.
"You don't have to be strong all the time, beta," his mom whispered.
"I'm here. You're safe here."
Jay nodded, holding her mom tighter.
For the first time in minutes, she felt a little of the weight lift.
Keifer's jaw tightened.
Something inside him stirred.
He knew he had to do something—but for now, he let her cry, just listening… and realizing.
Jay lay on her bed, curled up under the blanket, eyes red and swollen.
The tears had slowed, but her chest still ached.
Every breath felt tight.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Jay…" Keifer's voice was low, careful.
She didn't answer immediately.
"I'm coming in," he said softly, and the door creaked open.
He stepped inside, quiet as a shadow, and sat on the edge of the bed.
Jay hugged the blanket closer.
"I… I don't want to talk," she whispered.
"I know," he said gently.
"I'm not going to say anything you don't want to hear."
He reached over slowly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
Her body stiffened for a moment.
Then relaxed slightly at his touch.
"I'm here," he murmured.
"Just… here. You don't have to be strong with me."
Jay's throat tightened.
She leaned into him instinctively, pressing her forehead against his chest.
"I feel like I can't do anything," she whispered.
"Every time… Ivy… I just…"
Keifer held her tighter, one arm around her shoulders, the other hand resting lightly on her back.
"You're not useless," he said quietly.
"You're the only one I want. You know that, right?"
Jay closed her eyes.
She wanted to believe him.
She wanted to feel safe.
"I love you," she admitted, voice breaking.
"I just… I can't stop myself from thinking…"
"I know," he said softly.
"Hey," he whispered, tilting her chin up gently, "look at me. I can't stop myself either— from caring about you, from wanting you, from protecting you. Ivy doesn't change that. Nothing changes that."
Jay's lips trembled.
She leaned into him again, holding on like she'd never let go.
Keifer let out a low, almost pained sigh.
"You're mine, Jay. Don't forget that. Not for a second."
"I don't want to," she whispered, snuggling closer.
"Promise me…"
"I promise," he said, pressing his lips briefly to the top of her head.
"I'll always be here. Always."
And in that quiet room, with the world outside fading,
Jay let herself relax completely.
Keifer's arms were strong, possessive, protective.
And she finally felt… safe.