Chapter 32: A Rose, a Room, and the Real Thing
Jay sat on the campus rooftop, wind messing with her curls as her laptop glowed softly in front of her. She wasn't typing — not really. The cursor blinked back at her in quiet judgment.
It had been three weeks since that night.
Three weeks since their hearts finally cracked open again in a dimly lit dorm room, soft apologies whispered like confessions in the dark. Three weeks since Keifer held her like she was both fragile and fierce, like he knew what it had cost her to come back.
But no one knew.
Not Yuri, who still knocked on Keifer's door like he didn't suspect anything. Not Fatima, who gave Jay side-eyes every time she smiled at her phone. It was like their happiness was being kept under glass — protected, hidden, growing.
"Jay!" Fatima's voice rang from below the rooftop. "Class in twenty! Don't make me drag you again!"
Jay smiled and shut the laptop. Her fingers grazed the rose stem peeking out from her notebook.
He had left it this morning. Quietly. Like old times.
With a note that just said:
"You weren't the only one waiting for spring."
She wanted to scream at the world that she loved him. That even after everything — after Percy, after the pain, after the spiral that ate her for months — she still found her way back to Keifer Watson.
But some parts of healing had to stay soft and private, at least for now.
—
In class, the four of them sat like any other group. Fatima and Yuri bickered like they were secretly married, Jay kept her head down, and Keifer…
Keifer couldn't stop stealing glances.
At her lips when she chewed her pen.
At her fingers when she scribbled notes.
At her.
And Jay noticed — of course she did. Every time their eyes met across the desk, it felt like something ancient and aching remembered what it meant to feel whole.
But they didn't speak of it. Not here.
—
Lunch was chaos, as usual.
Yuri tossed his backpack dramatically onto the table. "Midterm group project? Sir really wants me to suffer, huh?"
"I vote we do it at our place," Fatima said. "More space, less noise, better lighting."
Yuri smirked. "More like more snacks."
Jay sat beside Fatima, trying to focus on the conversation and not the warm pressure of Keifer's knee against hers under the table.
He leaned close. Whispered, "You didn't eat breakfast."
Jay raised a brow. "And you didn't sleep."
"I would've," he muttered, "if I wasn't thinking about you keeping me a secret."
She blinked.
Then, cheeks flushing, she kicked his leg lightly under the table. "You want me to announce it with a megaphone?"
"I want to hold your hand," he said simply.
Fatima interrupted with a loud groan. "God, the tension between you two is giving me acne. Just date already."
Jay froze.
Yuri snorted into his drink. "Bro. Have you not figured it out?"
Fatima stared. "Wait— Wait—"
Keifer stood. Walked around the table. Pulled Jay up by the wrist gently and pressed a kiss to her temple.
"Happy now?" he asked, facing the two stunned best friends.
Fatima screamed. Literally screamed.
"You traitor! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?" she shouted at Jay. "Best friend my butt— I carried your tissues through heartbreak!"
Jay burst into laughter, feeling lighter than she had in months. Keifer still hadn't let go of her hand.
Yuri just grinned, arm slung over the back of his chair. "Finally. Took you lovebirds long enough."
—
That night, after the noise, the laughter, and the teasing had died down, Jay and Keifer sat on the dorm hallway floor, backs against the cool wall, fingers laced.
"You think we'll mess it up again?" Jay asked softly.
Keifer turned to her. "Probably."
She laughed, tired and true.
"But I'll keep choosing you," he added. "Even when we mess up."
She looked down at their hands. The same hands that once threw words like knives now held each other like lifelines.
"You still owe me a proper date," Jay whispered.
He kissed her knuckles. "Tomorrow. I'll bring the rose."
And in that moment — on a cold hallway floor with a boy who had broken and rebuilt her — Jay knew:
They never stopped.
And this? This was the real thing.