The conference room was colder than Jay expected.
Glass walls.
Long table.
Too many eyes.
She adjusted the folder in her hands for the third time.
Keifer stood beside her chair.
Not sitting yet.
Not leaving either.
Quiet support.
Her father cleared his throat.
"Jay will be presenting the regional proposal."
A pause.
Several heads lifted.
A few brows rose.
Jay felt it.
The doubt.
The curiosity.
The unspoken comparison.
She inhaled slowly.
And stood.
Keifer pulled her chair back just enough for her to move freely.
A small thing.
But she noticed.
Jay walked to the screen.
Her voice didn't shake when she began.
Only her fingers trembled slightly against the remote.
She spoke clearly.
About numbers.
About expansion.
About risks.
About people.
Not once did she look at her father.
Not once did she look at Keifer.
She stood on her own.
When she finished, silence filled the room.
A man near the end of the table leaned forward.
"You've focused heavily on internal restructuring," he said.
Jay nodded.
"Yes. Because rapid growth will fail if the teams underneath are already exhausted."
A murmur moved around the table.
Another director spoke.
"This is different from the strategy we discussed earlier."
Jay met his gaze.
"Because the situation is different now."
No apology.
No softening.
Just fact.
A woman near the glass wall tilted her head.
"And if this slows profits in the first quarter?"
Jay answered without blinking.
"Then we accept a smaller win now to prevent a larger loss later."
The woman smiled.
Just a little.
When the meeting finally ended, chairs shifted and voices rose again.
Jay gathered her files quietly.
She didn't know how it had gone.
She only knew her legs felt weak.
Keifer was watching her.
Not like a husband.
Not like a partner.
Like someone witnessing something rare.
As they stepped into the hallway, she finally exhaled.
"I think I survived."
He laughed softly.
"You didn't survive."
She frowned.
"What?"
"You owned that room."
Her lips curved before she could stop them.
"I kept hearing your voice in my head," she admitted.
He raised an eyebrow.
"That's dangerous."
She smiled wider.
"It helped."
They were halfway down the corridor when her father's assistant hurried after them.
"Jay—Ms. Mariano—wait."
Jay stopped.
Turned.
The assistant handed her a thin file.
"The board would like you to lead the pilot phase directly."
Jay blinked.
"I—me?"
"Yes. Starting this week."
The assistant nodded politely and left.
Jay stared at the folder.
Her hands trembled again.
This time…
Not from fear.
Keifer watched her face change.
Slowly.
Brightly.
"You did that," he said.
Jay whispered, stunned.
"I really did."
A few employees passed by.
Some nodded at her.
Some smiled.
Some whispered her name.
Jay felt it.
For the first time.
Recognition.
She turned to Keifer.
Her voice dropped.
Soft.
Almost shy.
"You didn't step in even once."
He leaned closer, quietly.
"Because you didn't need me to."
She held his gaze.
Then said the thing she hadn't realised she was carrying.
"…Thank you for not saving me."
Keifer smiled.
Not proud.
Not smug.
Just gentle.
"I wasn't trying to save you, Jay."
He brushed his thumb lightly against her knuckles.
"I was trying to stand where you could see yourself."
And in the glass wall beside them,
Jay caught her reflection.
Standing straight.
Smiling.
And for once…
believing it.