Jay-Jay's POV
By the time I force myself out of the empty meeting room, my legs feel like they're made of wet paper. My heartbeat hasn't calmed—not since I pulled away from Keifer in that elevator, not since I whispered "I can't," not since the doors closed on his face and my cowardice.
I walk the hallway with my head down, palms cold, throat tight.
I keep repeating to myself:
You're fine. You're fine. You're fine.
I am not fine.
When I reach my office door, I pause and inhale, trying to wipe the last traces of panic off my face. My eyes must still be red—I can feel the burn.
The moment I step inside, Coel is already there.
Sitting on the edge of my table.
Waiting for me.
His arms are crossed. His eyebrows lift the second he sees me.
"…Jay?"
His tone is too soft.
Too knowing.
I want to die.
I straighten my back. "Coel. Why are you here?"
"Samy said you disappeared for thirty minutes." He studies my face. "I can see why."
I blink rapidly. "I—had to check something in the meeting room."
He tilts his head like he can see straight through my skull.
"Jay… what happened?"
"Nothing. Work."
"Liar."
My jaw clenches.
He doesn't move. He's still sitting, still calm, but his eyes sharpen with that specific blend of annoyance and worry he only gets when I'm falling apart.
"Coel—please. I'm just tired."
"Your eyes are red."
"Aircon."
"You look pale."
"Lighting."
"You were shaking when you opened the door."
"…Caffeine."
He sighs like I'm a tragic case study.
Without another word, he gets up, walks past me, grabs the water bottle from my mini fridge, and sets it in front of me.
Then he pulls the chair from the visitor area and drags it directly across from mine, sitting down like he's preparing for an interrogation.
"Drink."
"Coel—"
"Jay. Drink."
I take the bottle and sip, mostly because if I don't, he'll keep staring at me like that until I evaporate from shame.
He rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.
"Now," he says quietly. "Try again."
My throat closes.
Because how do I explain?
How do I tell him I kissed Keifer like my lungs depended on it?
How do I tell him Keifer whispered "my girl" like it was a vow?
How do I tell him I panicked so hard afterward that I ran?
How do I tell him why I ran?
I can't. I can barely think about it without unraveling.
"I'm fine," I repeat.
"You are absolutely not fine."
His voice isn't sharp. It's worried.
Dangerously worried.
"I'm just… overwhelmed," I manage.
"By what?"
"Work."
He gives me a look so judgmental it could qualify as a hate crime.
"Jay."
I stare at my hands.
My chest feels tight, like the air is too thick to breathe.
Coel doesn't move. He's watching me with full best-friend intensity, eyes deep and steady, waiting for me to crack.
But I can't.
Not when even thinking about the elevator makes my pulse trip.
Not when remembering Keifer's thumb brushing my cheek feels like a punch in the ribs.
Not when remembering the way he whispered "Jay… please" in the dark makes my knees weak all over again.
God.
What is wrong with me?
I drag a shaky breath.
He notices instantly.
His voice softens. "Jay… don't do that."
"Do what?"
"That thing where you pretend you're okay while your soul is actively combusting."
I laugh—weak, pathetic, too honest.
"I'm not combusting."
He leans back in his chair.
"You keep zoning out like you're thinking about someone—"
My stomach drops.
"—or something."
I snap my eyes up. "Coel."
"What?"
"You're making weird assumptions."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
He points at me. "Jay. You have the face of someone who just ran from a confession or a crime scene. And knowing you, it's the first one."
"I didn't run."
"You literally sprinted past your own staff earlier."
I cover my face with my hands.
Kill me.
Please.
"Jay," he says softly. "Look at me."
I lower my hands slowly.
He's not teasing now.
He's not playing.
He's serious.
And that's the worst part.
He studies my expression like he's memorizing the cracks.
"You're hiding something," he says quietly. "And it's eating you alive."
I freeze.
Because he's right.
I am hiding something.
Something sharp and heavy and wrapped around my lungs.
Something like:
I don't deserve him.
I don't deserve the way he loves.
But I can't say any of it.
I force my gaze to the floor.
"There's nothing," I whisper. "Just stress."
"Jay."
"Coel, please."
He closes his mouth.
He doesn't push.
He doesn't accuse.
He just watches me with a look so protective it makes my eyes burn again.
He sighs and pulls out his phone.
Before I can ask, he types—and I see the sender line.
Samy.
Coel:
Something's wrong with Jay. Like… really wrong.
My heart stops.
"Coel!"
He shrugs. "She'll worry anyway."
"I don't need people worrying—"
"You need people. Period."
I shut my eyes.
Because the truth hits too hard.
I do need people.
I just don't know if I deserve them.
A soft buzz suddenly vibrates on my desk.
Coel stops mid-sentence.
We both look at the screen.
The caller ID lights up.
Mark Keifer Watson.
I swear my pulse forgets how to function.
My fingers twitch.
My throat closes.
Coel's head whips toward me so fast I'm surprised his spine doesn't snap.
He stares at my phone.
Then at me.
Then at my phone again.
Slowly, like he's piecing a nuclear bomb together, he asks:
"…Jay?"
I flip the phone face-down so fast the slap echoes through the room.
My chest is a cage of panic.
His eyebrows rise so high they could fly off.
His voice is low.
Cautious.
"…Jay-Jay."
I look away.
Too quickly.
Too obviously.
His suspicion sharpens like a blade.
He leans closer, voice dropping.
"Jay."
I swallow hard.
"Yes?"
"Did something happen between you and Keifer?"
The room goes silent.
My heart beats too loudly.
His eyes lock onto mine—gentle, worried, unblinking.
"Jay…" he says again, softer this time. "Tell me the truth."
I open my mouth—
—and nothing comes out.
Because the truth is a storm.
The truth is a kiss in a dark elevator.
The truth is Keifer whispering "sweetheart" against my lips.
The truth is me breaking.
Breaking open.
Breaking again.
And running anyway.
I clamp my mouth shut.
Coel's expression shifts—worry deepening, something clicking behind his eyes.
His jaw tightens slightly.
He whispers:
"…Jay."
I stare at the floor, lungs shaking.
Because he's too close.
Too observant.
Too right.
He leans back slowly, lowering his voice even further.
"Something happened," he says quietly.
It's not a question.
It's a conclusion.
My eyes burn again.
I look away.
He exhales long and soft, rubbing his forehead.
"Jay… please tell me you didn't get your heart broken again."
My breath catches.
He sees it.
He reacts instantly.
"Holy—Jay! What did he do? Did he say something? Did he hurt you?"
"No!" I blurt. "No, no, he didn't—he—Coel, stop, please—it's not—he didn't—"
I choke on my own words.
Coel freezes.
His worry softens.
His voice drops.
"…Then what happened?"
I grip the edge of my desk, knuckles white.
Because I can't say it.
Not yet.
Not when the words are knives.
Not when admitting them out loud will break me open.
My voice comes out thin.
"I… just need space."
Coel studies me.
Long.
Deep.
Like he's trying to find the answer hidden somewhere in my eyes.
Finally, he says quietly:
"Jay… whatever's happening, you don't have to go through it alone."
A lump forms in my throat.
I nod—even though I don't mean it.
Even though I don't know how to not go through things alone.
My phone buzzes again.
Keifer's name lights up one more time.
I flinch.
Coel sees it.
His voice is almost a whisper.
"…Jay, what did he do to make you look like that?"
I breathe in.
I breathe out.
And I say the only thing I can force past the panic:
"Nothing."
Coel's frown deepens.
He doesn't believe me.
At all.
But he doesn't push further.
He just whispers my name again—quiet, protective, aching:
"Jay…"
And I look away.
Because if I look at him—
If I look at anyone—
I'll break.
Coel doesn't give me a chance to breathe.
I barely sit back down at my desk, still pretending nothing is wrong—still pretending I'm not falling apart from the inside out—when he suddenly grabs my wrist.
"Pantry. Now."
I blink. "Coel, I have emails—"
"You can email your trauma later. Get up."
"Co—"
He lifts a brow, the "don't test me, Jay" brow, and I instantly know there's no escaping.
Fantastic.
My life is crumbling, and I'm being dragged by a man wearing a sunflower-print tie.
He leads me out of my office before I can protest again, Coel's steps unreasonably fast for someone with such skinny legs. The pantry door swings open, and he practically pushes me inside.
The door clicks shut.
He turns around, leans against the counter, crosses his arms, and gives me that look.
The one that feels like X-rays scanning my soul.
The room is warm. Too warm. Bright light. Empty. Too quiet.
Coel narrows his eyes.
"You're shaking."
I stiffen. "I'm cold."
He deadpans. "Jay, it is literally warm as sin in here. Try again."
I swallow. Hard.
He waits.
I don't speak.
He sighs and pushes off the counter, walking toward me. Slowly. Carefully. Like I'm a wounded animal that might bolt again.
I probably am.
"Jay," he says quietly, "look at me."
I don't.
He gently takes my elbows and guides me to one of the stools. I sit because my legs feel like overcooked noodles.
He crouches in front of me, arms resting on his knees, face softening but eyes still sharp.
"What happened?"
I shake my head. "I don't… I don't want to talk about it."
"Then just breathe. Let me see you."
My breath shudders out of me.
He notices.
"Jay… this isn't work stress."
I pinch my eyes shut. "Coel. Please. Not today."
He exhales, long and frustrated, running a hand through his hair.
Then his voice softens—like melted butter and old friendship and worry.
"I'm your friend before I'm your employee. If you're hurting, I want to know."
My chest cracks.
Just a little.
I lift my hands and bury my face in them. The world goes dark.
I feel Coel shift closer. Knees brushing mine. A hand touching my shoulder. Gentle pressure. A grounding point.
"Jay," he murmurs, "you're scaring me."
I inhale shakily. The scent of coffee, paper, detergent. Safe things. Coel things.
My voice barely crawls out of my throat.
"I just need… space."
He stills.
He knows me well enough to hear the tremor under those words.
"Space from what?" he asks softly. "…or from who?"
My hands tighten over my face.
Coel whispers, "From Keifer?"
I freeze.
Everything inside me goes silent.
Coel doesn't move, but I feel his breath catch.
"Oh," he says quietly. "So it's like that."
I lower my hands slowly, forcing myself to meet his eyes.
The concern there is too much. Too sharp. Too honest.
His eyes flicker across my face—my swollen eyes, my stiff mouth, my trembling fingers.
Something in him shifts.
He leans forward, voice lower, deeper than before.
"Jay… he didn't… hurt you, right?"
My head snaps up. "No!"
Too fast.
Too desperate.
Coel notices.
He always notices.
He exhales in relief but his brows pull together in a troubled frown.
"Then what is it? What did he do? Did he say something? Did he pressure you? Did he—"
"No, Coel." My voice cracks. "Keifer didn't do anything wrong."
Coel pauses. Really pauses. The kind where the air changes.
"Then why," he whispers, "do you look like you're about to break?"
I look away.
He follows my gaze—and lands on my phone lying on the counter.
It buzzes.
The screen lights up.
Mark Keifer Watson: Calling…
My heart drops to my feet.
I fumble and flip the phone face-down so fast it slides across the counter.
Coel watches every microsecond of the panic exploding across my face.
His suspicion sharpens into something louder. Sharper. Protective.
"Jay," he says, voice steady, "did something happen between you two?"
I open my mouth—
—and the door slams open.
"JAY-JAY!"
Samy barrels into the pantry like a hurricane in office heels.
Coel jerks back, startled. "S—Samy, what—"
"I'm about to beat someone up!" she announces, dramatic as always. "Jay disappeared for thirty minutes, Coel disappeared right after, and I thought you two were dead in a ventilation shaft!"
"We're fine," I sigh.
"We are absolutely not fine," Samy says, pointing at me. "Jay looks like she cried five times and solved a murder at the same time."
Coel mutters, "Accurate."
Samy storms over and cups my face between her hands.
"Sweetheart," she demands, "who hurt you?"
I choke. "No one—"
"Who do I need to stab?"
"Samy—"
"Was it Keifer?"
I go still.
Coel goes still.
Samy goes feral.
"Oh my god," she gasps, clutching her chest. "It WAS Keifer. I knew it. The way you walked in here? Like your soul left your body to go write a resignation letter to God?"
I groan and drop my forehead onto the counter. "Can everyone please calm down—"
"No," both of them say at the same time.
Samy crosses her arms. "Explain. Now."
I don't.
I can't.
Samy takes my phone off the counter.
It buzzes again.
She flips it over.
Her brows shoot up.
"Girl. He has called you six times. SIX." She waves the phone like a sin. "Mark Keifer Watson? The man who usually calls only for national emergencies like 'Jay-Jay hasn't eaten today' or 'Jay-Jay thought too hard again?'"
"Give that back," I snatch for it.
She dodges expertly. "No. Not until you tell us what happened."
Coel steps beside her, looking between me and the phone, frown deepening.
"Jay," he says softly but firmly, "this seems serious."
"I'm fine," I whisper.
Samy laughs once. Loudly. "You are about as fine as a dead plant."
Coel adds, "Or a laptop at 1% without a charger."
"Or a bank account with negative balance," Samy continues.
"Or—"
"I GET IT," I snap.
Silence.
The kind that makes your heart thump too loud.
I rub my hands over my face. "I just… I need time."
Coel approaches again—slower this time—voice lower.
"Jay… look at me."
I do.
His eyes soften in that way that always cracks me open a little.
"Whatever's happening between you and Keifer… it's not small."
My breath catches.
He continues.
"You're scared. I can see it. You're avoiding him. I see that too."
Samy nods, eyes narrowing. "And you look like you kissed him."
I choke. "SAMY—"
"Oh please." She gestures at my mouth. "Your lips look like they were in battle."
I cover my face again.
Coel lets out a soft exhale. "So something did happen."
Samy gasps dramatically. "OH MY GOD. You kissed Keifer in an elevator, didn't you?!"
I slide off the stool onto my knees on the floor.
They stare at me.
Samy whispers, "She DID."
Coel mutters, "The sexual tension in that elevator must have broken the security cameras."
I want to disappear.
They sit with me on the floor. No questions for a moment. Just… presence.
Then Coel nudges my arm.
"You know you can tell us."
I swallow the truth rising in my throat.
The truth I can't say.
Because the truth is not him.
It's me.
I whisper, "I can't."
Coel nods slowly.
But his voice is sure, steady, protective.
"Then we'll wait. And we won't push. But Jay… whatever this is? You're not carrying it alone."
I blink hard.
Samy leans her head on my shoulder. "We'll handle the paperwork, the emails, the beer runs, the punching if needed. Just… don't shut us out."
My throat burns.
My phone buzzes again.
Keifer's name.
Three people stare at it.
One of them is me.
Coel whispers, "Jay… this isn't going away."
I don't answer.
I can't.
He watches the panic return to my breathing.
His voice drops.
"Jay… you're terrified."
He studies my face carefully.
"…of him? Or of yourself?"
My breath stops.
And I don't know which one is the truth.
If someone had told me that hiding in the pantry with two dramatic best friends could feel like a police interrogation—
I would've still avoided Keifer.
But maybe I would've mentally prepared for this.
Because the moment I say, "I just need space," Coel's eyes sharpen like he's about to arrest me for emotional wrongdoing.
Samy, who is still leaning against the refrigerator eating chips, gasps dramatically.
"SPACE?" she repeats, pressing her hand to her chest. "From Mark Keifer Watson? From the man who looked at you like you were his last brain cell and he would die without it?"
I groan. "Samy, please—"
She slams the chip bag on the counter.
"NO. Someone has to say it. SPACE? From that kiss?"
My blood pressure skyrockets.
Coel turns to her slowly.
"What kiss?"
Samy freezes.
I freeze.
The entire pantry air freezes.
I'm going to strangle her.
Samy's eyes dart to me.
"I… uh… hypothetically speaking—"
"Samy."
My teeth hurt from clenching.
She winces.
"Okay, fine! I walked in earlier and your lipstick was missing and your hair was a mess and you were— you know— glowing. Like you'd been… moisturized by a man."
I choke so violently on my own breath Coel actually slaps my back like I'm dying.
"I WAS NOT— WHAT— WHA— WHO SAYS THAT?"
Samy shrugs.
"You did look moisturized. Emotionally. Spiritually. Physically. Like someone shoved you against a surface and—"
"ENOUGH," Coel snaps, face red.
"Samy, for the love of God, she's a CEO, not your fanfiction OC."
Samy gasps again.
"OH MY GOD—DID YOU PIN HER AGAINST A SURFACE?"
"NO!" I yell at the same time she screams, "YES!"
I glare daggers at her.
Samy glares back.
"You're lying! I have kiss-detection vision. And you, my dear Jay-Jay, look like you got—"
"SAMY," Coel cuts in sharply.
"Outside. Now."
"No way." She folds her arms. "I'm in this. I earned this position. I smelled the post-makeout air on her earlier."
I want to die.
Coel pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Fine. But shut up."
Samy immediately zips her mouth shut—
but her eyes keep screaming "YOU GOT KISSED AND IT WAS GOOD."
Coel gently grabs my elbow.
"Jay. Office. Now."
I let them drag me—
Samy still buzzing with the energy of someone who witnessed a telenovela plot twist.
Coel's office —
Coel pushes the door closed and locks it, then points at the couch.
"Sit."
His tone is all protective-older-brother-who-will-fight-a-billionaires'-son-for-me energy.
I sit.
Samy sits beside me like this is premium live entertainment.
Coel leans against his desk, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
"Tell me if he did anything."
I blink.
"What— No! Coel, Keifer would NEVER—"
"Then why the hell are you shaking?"
His voice rises just enough to cut through the room.
"I'm not shaking," I whisper.
"You are," Samy says helpfully, patting my knee.
"You're vibrating. Like a phone on silent mode."
"Samy," I hiss.
She holds up her hands. "Just observing."
Coel kneels in front of me, his eyes softening.
"Jay… you know I'm your friend before anything else, right?"
I nod.
He looks at me for one long, heavy moment.
A moment that feels like he's looking straight through the thin shell I'm using to hide my heart.
"Then tell me," he says quietly.
"What did he do?"
My breath hitches.
Samy leans forward, whispering,
"I swear if he made you cry I'm going to hack his bank account and donate everything to penguins."
I groan into my hands.
"Samy, you can't hack his bank account."
She scoffs. "Please. I know his PIN vibes."
Coel gives her a look.
She presses her lips together and sits back, but her eyes are still wide and nosy.
I exhale shakily.
"He didn't do anything wrong."
Coel studies my face.
"Then why are you terrified?"
Because I'm not enough.
Because he's too good.
Because if he realizes what loving me costs—he'll leave.
Because I don't deserve him.
But I can't say any of that.
So I stare at my lap.
"Jay," Coel murmurs, "look at me."
I don't.
He gently lifts my chin, thumb brushing lightly over my cheek like he's afraid I'll break.
"Did he hurt you?"
"No."
The answer is out instantly. Desperate. Too desperate.
Coel frowns.
Samy's eyes soften.
"So he kissed you?" Samy whispers, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Samy," Coel warns.
"What? I'm just clarifying! It's important data collection."
I bury my face in my hands again.
But the memory of the kiss slams into me—
his mouth warm, insistent
his hands anchoring my waist
his breath mixing with mine
his whisper, low against my lips:
Why are you avoiding me?
My heart clenches.
Coel sees my expression shift.
Of course he does—Coel is too observant for his own good.
His voice lowers.
"Jay…
did something happen between you and Keifer?"
I swallow hard.
Samy leans forward again, whispering like an excited squirrel,
"Jay-Jay… did he—like—pick you up? Did he—"
Coel throws a pen at her.
She dodges it, offended.
"Hey! I'm helping!"
"You are not," he snaps.
But the corner of his mouth twitches—because even he can't deny Samy's chaos is weirdly comforting.
I inhale sharply, letting my hands fall to my lap.
"Something did happen," I whisper.
Samy squeals. Coel shoots her a death glare.
"What happened, Jay?"
I bite my lip.
"We… kissed."
Samy throws both fists into the air.
"HA! I KNEW IT! MY DETECTION POWERS NEVER FAIL!"
Coel ignores her completely.
His voice is low, careful.
"And did you want it?"
My face burns.
Yes.
More than anything.
More than oxygen.
More than sanity.
But the fear creeps back.
Because wanting him means risking being destroyed all over again.
"Yes," I breathe.
"Of course I did."
Coel relaxes a little—
but only a little.
"Then what's wrong?"
Everything.
My throat closes.
"I'm overwhelmed," I whisper.
Samy snorts.
"Babes, you're overwhelmed because a fine man kissed you like you were the first and last woman on earth."
Coel sighs heavily.
"Samy."
"What? I'm supporting!"
Coel turns back to me.
"Jay," he says softly.
"Be honest with me."
I blink hard, trying to stop tears from forming.
He waits.
I shake my head.
"I… can't."
"Why not?"
"Because…"
My voice breaks.
"Because I don't know how to say it."
Samy's face softens instantly.
It's rare—she's usually all noise and chaos, but when she cares, she cares hard.
She scoots closer and bumps her shoulder against mine.
"You don't have to say everything," she murmurs.
"But don't carry it alone."
Coel nods.
"Jay… do you think you're not good enough for him?"
The air disappears.
I freeze completely.
Samy's mouth falls open.
"Oh my god…"
Coel sees the answer in my silence.
In the way my shoulders slump.
In the way my eyes drop.
He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair.
"Jay," he says softly,
"that's not true."
My throat tightens.
Samy grabs my hand, squeezing it.
"He chased you for years," she whispers.
"Do you think he'd do that for someone he didn't want?"
My eyes burn.
"And he still wants you," Coel adds, voice firm.
"I saw his face today. I've never seen a man look so—"
"—whipped?" Samy supplies.
"—concerned," Coel corrects through clenched teeth.
Samy shrugs.
"Same thing."
I laugh weakly through the ache.
Coel leans closer, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on mine.
"Jay… you're terrified. I get that. But don't lie to yourself."
I look away.
"Coel…"
He gently wipes a tear I didn't notice.
"I don't like seeing you like this," he murmurs.
"You deserve to be happy. And you're allowed to be."
Samy nods aggressively beside me.
"Yes. You deserve kisses. And cuddles. And morning neck sniffs. And—"
"Samy. Stop."
She throws her hands up.
"NUH-UH. I will NOT apologize for supporting my girl's romantic hydration."
I choke on a laugh.
Coel massages his temple.
Then he looks at me again.
"You're scared," he says simply.
"Of him… or of yourself?"
My breath catches.
Because he's right.
I'm scared of myself.
Of what I feel.
Of how strong it is.
Of how much it could break me if anything goes wrong.
Coel reads everything in my silence.
His expression darkens—not angry at me,
but angry at the pain wrapped around my ribs.
He sighs.
"I'm here, okay? Whatever it is, whatever you're carrying… You're not alone."
Samy squeezes my hand again.
"And if you ever need to flee the country, I'll help forge documents."
"OH MY GOD SAMY—"
"What? You never know!"
I laugh, breath shaky.
But then—
my phone buzzes on the table.
All three of us freeze.
The screen lights up.
Mark Keifer Watson
Calling…
My heart stops.
Coel's eyes widen slightly.
Samy's jaw drops.
Then Samy whispers:
"Oh…
this man is down BAD."
I flip the phone face-down so fast it almost flies off the table.
Coel lifts a brow.
"Jay."
"I can't," I whisper.
"I can't talk to him right now."
Samy exchanges a look with Coel—a rare serious one.
Then Coel speaks, low and steady.
"Jay…
this is going to get worse if you keep running."
My stomach twists painfully.
"I know."
But I still don't pick up.
Silence fills the room.
Coel studies me carefully.
Samy bites her lip.
Finally, in a voice soft, worried, protective, Coel asks:
"Jay…
did something happen between you two that you're scared to tell him?"
I close my eyes.
The walk back to my office feels like walking toward my own execution.
Coel is on my left, arms crossed, radiating protective older-brother energy so strong it could deflect bullets.
Samy is on my right, radiating chaotic best-friend energy so strong it could create bullets.
And I'm in the middle, small, stressed, dying internally.
"Don't look so guilty," Coel mutters.
"I'm not guilty," I whisper.
Samy snorts. Loudly. "Jay… you look like you committed tax fraud and cheated on a midterm at the same time."
I groan.
We reach the corner leading to my office hallway—
And Samy freezes.
Literally freezes.
Like a statue.
Like someone pressed pause on her soul.
Her eyes widen. Her mouth opens. And then—
"OH.
MY.
HOLY.
SANCTIFIED.
SAINTED.
SOAP-EATING.
GRANDMOTHER—HE'S BACK!"
Her scream echoes across the hallway like she's announcing the apocalypse.
Coel mutters, "You have GOT to be kidding me," rubbing his face like he aged ten years in one second.
My heart drops to the floor. Then shatters. Then burns. Then spontaneously dies.
Because down the hallway—walking with long, confident, quiet steps, like he owns the building, the floor, the air, the gravity—
Is Keifer.
In a black suit.
Sleeves rolled.
Jaw tense.
Eyes locked on one person.
Me.
Samy whispers reverently, "Jesus Christ, he looks like a CEO on a mission to collect his runaway wife."
"Samy," I hiss.
"I'm just saying!" she whisper-shouts. "LOOK AT HIM! That man has 'I will find her and we will talk' energy."
Coel steps slightly forward, blocking part of me with his shoulder. Quiet, steady, protective.
Keifer's gaze snaps to him.
Then past him.
Straight to me.
And everything inside me collapses.
He walks faster.
Not rushed. Not panicked.
Just determined.
Like his entire day has been leading to this exact moment.
Samy grabs my arm and leans in. "Jay… honey… you're trembling."
I am.
I absolutely am.
Keifer stops a few feet away, breathing controlled, eyes never leaving my face.
"Where is she?" he asks, voice low, steady, dangerous in its softness.
Coel steps directly in front of me.
"She's working."
"Coel." Keifer's tone lowers.
"Keifer." Coel matches it.
I swear lightning crackles between them.
Samy mutters, "Oh great, the testosterone war," and steps aside like she's looking for popcorn.
Keifer finally shifts slightly to the right—
And sees me fully.
His shoulders ease. A tiny bit. Like just seeing me is enough to loosen something in him.
But then his expression changes.
Because he sees how red my eyes are.
How stiff I'm standing.
How I can't breathe properly.
His entire face softens.
But in the most painful way.
"Jay-Jay," he says quietly. "We need to talk."
I step back instinctively.
"No," I whisper. "Not now."
"When?" His eyes burn into me. "I've been trying to talk to you all day."
"I don't know."
"Jay…"
His voice cracks the smallest bit.
I hate it.
I hate that I caused it.
Coel glances between us. His brow furrows.
"Jay… you're trembling," he says again, softer this time.
Keifer hears it.
Sees it.
And his entire expression fractures.
He looks devastated.
Like he just realized he's the reason I'm shaking.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he says quietly. "Sweetheart… I would never—"
"You didn't," I blurt out. "I'm just—"
I shake my head.
Everything inside me is too loud. Too tight. Too much.
"Please," I say, voice cracking. "Just… let me think."
Keifer inhales slowly. Deeply. Like he's physically swallowing all the things he wants to say.
Then he steps back.
Not far.
Just enough to respect the boundary I can't explain.
He nods once.
"Okay," he murmurs. "I'll give you time."
It hurts him.
I see it.
I feel it.
I hate it.
But he still steps back.
Because that's who he is.
Coel moves beside me, hand gently on my shoulder.
Samy watches with wide, chaotic eyes, whispering, "OHMYGOD this is so tense I'm going to spontaneously combust."
Keifer looks at me one last time.
One long, searching, hurting look.
Then he turns.
Walks away.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
Like each step costs him something.
And with every step, my chest burns worse.
The hallway feels too big.
My heartbeat feels too loud.
My guilt feels too heavy.
Coel squeezes my shoulder.
Samy doesn't speak for once.
And I stand there—
Watching the man who loves me walk away—
Wishing I wasn't doing this to him.
Wishing I wasn't me.
Wishing I could stop shaking long enough to breathe.
Coel's voice breaks the silence.
"This isn't just relationship fear," he says softly, almost to himself. "Something else is breaking her."
I close my eyes.
And something inside me finally cracks.
My legs aren't working.
They're shaking so badly I'm genuinely surprised they haven't given out yet. The hallway is still warm with Keifer's presence even though he's already halfway down the corridor, walking away like it's the hardest thing he's ever done.
Maybe it is.
Maybe I'm the hardest thing he's ever tried to hold.
Coel steps in front of me the second Keifer disappears around the corner, one hand hovering near my elbow like he's scared I'll fall apart if he touches me too quickly.
I probably will.
"Breathe," Coel murmurs.
"I am," I whisper.
"No, you're vibrating like an electric toothbrush," Samy announces behind me.
I choke on air.
Coel groans.
She keeps going.
"Also, Jay-Jay? When your man—sorry, ex-man—walked in with that I'm-here-to-claim-my-woman swagger? Babe, even I got pregnant for a second."
"Samy!" I hiss.
"What? I'm supporting you emotionally. And sexually. By proxy."
I almost laugh.
Almost.
But the tremble in my hands isn't stopping. Every breath feels wrong—too shallow, too fast, too everything.
And the worst part?
Keifer's face when Coel told me I was trembling.
He looked like someone stabbed him. Twice. Slowly.
"Okay," Samy claps, misreading every emotion correctly. "Emergency rooftop trip. Now. Move, sad girl."
Coel shoots her a look.
She shoots one back.
"Unless you want her hyperventilating and passing out into the arms of some random dude, which—honestly—could be hot—"
"Samy." Coel pinches the bridge of his nose. "Enough."
"Fine. Brooding boss mode activated."
She loops her arm through mine and tugs.
"Up. Rooftop. Fresh air. Emotional damage in HD."
Coel sighs but follows us, silent and tense.
And even though it's completely ridiculous, completely chaotic, and completely Samy…
I go.
Because if I stay here one more second, I'll fall apart exactly where Keifer just stood.
And I can't do that.
Not where he can see.
Coel's POV
Samy walks like a tiny demon general leading a battalion.
Jay walks like her bones have forgotten their job.
I walk behind them like a fuse seconds before detonation.
The elevator ride is quiet—except for Samy whispering:
"Jay-Jay, blink twice if you want me to seduce Keifer as revenge. Blink once if you want me to seduce you instead. Blink three times if you want me to seduce both of you strategically."
Jay's laugh breaks through her shaking for half a second.
I'd hug Samy if she weren't a menace.
When we reach the rooftop, the cold evening air hits instantly—sharp, clear, grounding.
Jay exhales like she's been underwater for hours.
She walks straight to the ledge and grips the railing, staring at the city like it might give her answers.
Or take her questions away.
Her shoulders rise with every shaky breath.
She's unraveling.
I feel it.
I hate it.
Samy wanders off, humming, pretending she isn't listening, which means she's definitely listening harder.
I stand beside Jay.
Not too close.
Not touching.
Just… there.
For a long minute, neither of us says anything.
The wind does all the talking.
Finally, I speak.
"Jay… I'm scared for you."
She flinches.
Her voice is barely there. "Don't be."
I shake my head. "Too late."
Her grip on the railing tightens. Her throat works like she's swallowing something sharp.
She forces a smile—it trembles just like she does.
"You're falling apart," I say quietly.
"I'll be fine."
"No. You won't. Not if you keep this inside."
Her breath breaks.
And when she lifts her chin, I see her eyes shining.
Not from tears she's shedding—
from tears she's holding back so violently it hurts to witness.
"Coel…" she whispers.
"Talk to me," I say. "Please."
Her whole body stiffens.
Then cracks.
Jay-Jay's POV
"I can't tell him," I breathe.
My voice sounds wrong. Like it's leaking out of a part of me I've kept sealed for years.
Coel turns fully, facing me. His brows are drawn, his expression painfully soft.
"Why not?"
Because he'll leave.
Because the second he knows what I am—not the version he sees, not the version I pretend to be—but the messy, broken, scarred me…
He'll run.
He should run.
My lips part, but the words don't want to come out.
They scrape their way up anyway.
"Because the moment he knows…" My voice cracks. "…he'll leave."
Coel stills.
Completely.
And something in his eyes changes.
A realization.
A deep, sinking understanding.
He knows.
It's not Keifer hurting me.
It's me.
Me hurting me.
"Jay," he whispers, like saying my name hurts him. "What are you so afraid he'll find out?"
The wind picks up.
My chest caves in.
Everything inside me shatters like glass.
"…me," I whisper.
And the second the word leaves my lips, it feels like confession and collapse and surrender all in one.
Coel closes his eyes—slow, pained—because he understands.
He always understands.
Behind us, Samy sniffles loudly.
"If I knew therapy sessions on rooftops were this dramatic," she murmurs, "I'd bring popcorn."
Then, softer:
"Also, Jay-Jay… babe… you're not scared he'll find you. You're scared he won't stay once he does. That's different. Deep. Messy. Sexy in a tragic way."
"Samy," I groan weakly.
"What?" she shrugs. "I'm right. And hot."
Coel rubs his forehead.
I almost smile again.
Almost.
But the truth is still lodged in my ribs.
And saying it didn't make it disappear.
It just made it real.
Coel's POV
Her whisper echoes in my head.
Me.
That's what she's afraid of.
Not losing Keifer.
Not the fight.
Not the past.
Herself.
My chest tightens so violently I have to look away for a second.
I want to fix her.
Protect her.
Carry every piece she's scared to touch.
But I can't do any of that unless she lets me.
So I try one more time.
"Jay," I say softly, "look at me."
She does.
Barely.
Eyes red.
Lips trembling.
Armor cracked.
"You think he'll leave if he sees the real you."
A nod.
A tiny one.
But a nod.
I exhale slowly.
Then say the truth—the only truth.
"Any man who leaves after seeing you… never deserved you in the first place."
Her breath catches.
Samy lets out a choked squeal behind us.
"OH MY GOD, COEL, ARE YOU TRYING TO SEDUCE HER? Because it's WORKING and I am JEALOUS."
"Samy," I hiss through my teeth.
"Fine, fine," she waves him off. "Continue your emotional foreplay."
Jay covers her face with both hands.
But she's not shaking as badly now.
Good.
I step closer—not touching, not pushing—just close enough that she feels anchored.
"I need you to hear me," I say quietly. "And believe me. Whatever you're hiding—whatever you think makes you unlovable—it doesn't. You're not the problem. You're not too much. You're not broken."
Her breath trembles again.
"Coel…"
"I'm not saying this as your friend. Or your coworker. Or Samy's emotional babysitter."
"Hey!" Samy yells.
I ignore her.
I look straight into Jay's eyes.
"I'm saying this as someone who cares about you more than you realize."
She stills.
Completely.
Then she breaks again—but softer this time. Not panic. Not fear.
Just… release.
Jay-Jay's POV
When Coel says "someone who cares about you," something inside me fractures open.
Not in a painful way.
In a way that feels like a door I welded shut is being held open gently—carefully—by someone who won't force his way in.
The wind hits my face, cold and grounding.
I wipe my cheeks, not sure when the tears actually escaped.
Samy whines dramatically.
"Ugh I hate crying. It makes my eyeliner betray me. But this? This is some premium emotional porno. 10/10."
"Samy," Coel snaps.
"What? I'm giving commentary. It's my job."
I laugh—weak but real.
Samy beams like she won a prize.
Coel watches me closely.
Too closely.
And for the first time since the hallway—
I let him.
"How long have you been keeping this inside?" he asks gently.
"Long enough."
His jaw tightens. "Jay…"
"What else do you want me to say?" I whisper. "I'm terrified. I don't know how to stop that."
He moves closer. Just a step.
But I feel it everywhere.
"You don't need to stop being afraid," he murmurs. "You just need someone standing with you while you shake."
My chest twists.
Samy claps aggressively.
"OKAY, SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU, MY OVARIES CAN'T HANDLE THIS."
"Samy—"
"Do you hear yourselves? Emotional intimacy? Vulnerability? Subtle tension? I'm going to combust."
I groan into my hands.
Coel actually laughs.
A soft one.
But a laugh.
And I breathe a little easier.
Coel's POV
She's calmer now.
Still fragile.
Still trembling occasionally.
But not breaking.
Thank God.
I place a hand carefully on her shoulder—not possessive, not overwhelming. Just… present.
She leans into it.
Barely.
But enough.
I swallow hard.
This girl will ruin me.
Not romantically.
Emotionally.
I don't care.
"I'm here," I say quietly.
She closes her eyes.
Samy sniffles behind us.
Then whispers loudly:
"Should I give you two some space? Or should I stay because I feel like if I leave, one of you is going to confess something spicy and I NEED to witness it?"
"Samy," Jay groans.
"What? I love you. And your drama."
I shake my head.
Jay steps closer to me—not touching, but close enough that I feel the warmth of her.
Her voice is small again.
"I don't want to be afraid anymore."
I answer instantly.
"Then let me help you."
Jay-Jay's POV
His words hit harder than anything tonight.
Let me help you.
No pressure.
No demands.
No anger.
Just… presence.
Soft.
Warm.
Steady.
Everything I'm not.
Everything I want to be.
I exhale shakily, staring at the skyline.
And for a moment—I let myself want things I shouldn't.
To be held.
To be understood.
To not be terrified of being seen.
To not be terrified of myself.
Samy pats my back suddenly.
"Okay, Jay-Jay, emotional moment over. Now answer this: when Keifer saw you trembling, was that sexual tension or trauma or both? Because I swear the air thickened like a romance novel."
"Samy!" I almost choke.
"What? He walked in like 'where is she' and I swear I almost threw myself at him too."
"Oh my god—"
"And Coel stepping in front of you?" She fans herself. "Dominance. Protectiveness. Alpha energy. My skin cleared."
"Samy—"
"And YOU? Standing there looking like heartbreak and desire? Babe, you need a warning label."
I hide my face in both hands.
Coel mutters, "I regret bringing you."
Samy gasps.
"How dare—"
But she softens when she looks at me.
"I tease, yes," she whispers. "But I'm here. And you're not alone. Not with us."
My throat feels full.
I nod weakly.
Coel's hand squeezes my shoulder gently.
The rooftop goes quiet except for the wind.
And for the first time in a long time—
being quiet doesn't feel scary.
Keifer's POV
I shouldn't be here.
I know that.
I walked away.
I forced myself to.
For her.
But the second I stepped into the elevator, something in me refused to leave the building.
So I stayed.
And now I'm here on the lower balcony, half-hidden behind a column, staring up at the rooftop.
She's there.
With Coel.
And Samy.
But mostly Coel.
He's standing too close.
She's leaning toward him.
He looks like he'd catch her if she fell apart completely.
It should destroy me.
But it doesn't.
It just… tightens something brutal and determined inside my chest.
She's shaking.
Even from here, I can tell.
My fists clench.
She shouldn't be carrying anything alone.
She shouldn't look that afraid.
She shouldn't look that breakable.
I swallow hard, jaw tight.
She thinks I'll leave if I see the parts she hides.
She has no idea.
I'm not going anywhere.
Not again.
Not ever.
I'll wait.
I'll fight.
I'll break every wall she puts up—gently, patiently—until she sees what I see.
Until she believes what I believe.
That she's worth loving.
Worth staying for.
Worth fighting for.
And I'll make her love herself again.
Even if she never comes back to me—
I'll make sure she finds herself again.
But she will come back.
Because I'm not giving up.
Not this time.
Not on her.
Not on us.
I take a slow breath and whisper into the cold evening air:
"I'm going to win you back, Jay-Jay. And I'm going to make you love yourself again… even if I have to burn down every fear you've ever had."
And I stay there.
Watching her.
Waiting.
Wanting.
Promising.