Jay woke up to sunlight.
Not alarms.
Not reminders.
Not her mother's sharp voice calling her name from the hallway.
Just… light.
For a few seconds, she lay still, confused by the calm in her chest.
Then she remembered.
Keifer.
Last night.
The way his voice had softened when he said her name.
Jay.
Only Jay.
She sat up slowly and noticed the balcony door was open.
And of course… he was there.
Leaning against the railing, phone in one hand, coffee in the other, completely at ease with the world.
"You always escape in the morning?" she asked quietly.
Keifer turned, surprised—and then smiled.
"Only when I know you'll come looking for me."
She rolled her eyes but walked toward him anyway.
"You're too confident."
"About you?" he said lightly. "Yeah. I am."
Jay stopped beside him.
The city was wide and glowing below them.
For once, she wasn't counting schedules in her head.
Keifer handed her his cup.
She hesitated. "That's yours."
"So?" he shrugged. "Try it."
She took a small sip.
"It's bitter."
He laughed. "Exactly. You don't hate it. You're just dramatic."
Jay nudged his arm.
He looked at her, amused.
And softer.
"You know what I noticed?" he said.
"What?"
"You don't rush anymore."
Jay blinked.
"I used to," she admitted quietly.
"If I stayed still too long… someone would come and tell me what I should be doing next."
Keifer leaned his elbow on the railing.
"No one's coming now."
She glanced at him.
"And if they do?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Then they can wait."
Something in her chest loosened.
A little.
Jay leaned forward, resting her arms on the railing beside his.
"I don't feel nervous this morning," she said.
Keifer smiled slowly.
"That's called peace."
She breathed out.
Peace.
The word felt unfamiliar.
But good.
A silence settled between them—not awkward.
Comfortable.
Keifer tilted his head, studying her face.
"You're smiling," he said.
Jay frowned immediately. "No, I'm not."
He laughed softly.
"You really are."
She touched her cheek without thinking.
Then froze.
He saw it.
And didn't tease her.
That mattered more than she realized.
"…Keifer?"
"Hmm?"
"If this marriage wasn't for business," she asked quietly,
"would you still have chosen me?"
He didn't look away.
Not for even a second.
"Yes."
Jay's breath caught.
He stepped closer—slow, careful, giving her space to pull away.
She didn't.
"I would've chosen you even if there was nothing to gain," he said softly.
"Especially then."
Jay's hands tightened on the railing.
Her voice came out fragile.
"I don't know why you're so sure about me."
Keifer smiled.
"Because you're real. And I don't want perfect."
He lifted his hand—paused.
Waiting.
Jay nodded once.
Barely.
His fingers brushed hers.
Not holding.
Just touching.
And somehow…
That was louder than any kiss.
Jay didn't pull back.
For the first time in her life,
she stayed.