JAY POV — THE HOUSE THAT HELD HIS HISTORY
By the time I drove into the Watson estate, the sky had begun to soften.
Shopping bags sat in the passenger seat—white tissue peeking out like secrets. Lace. Silk. Promises I wasn't ready to say out loud yet.
My hands were still trembling.
Not from excitement.
From the weight of what was coming.
Keifer had texted earlier.
> Keifer: Come home when you're done. There's someone I want you to meet.
Someone.
Singular.
Important enough to interrupt my post–wedding-shopping haze.
The gates opened smoothly, familiar now in a way that surprised me. The house stood calm and grand, bathed in late afternoon light, like it had been waiting.
I parked.
Breathed.
Then stepped inside.
The moment the door closed behind me, I sensed it.
Not tension.
Expectation.
Voices drifted from the living room—low, male, unfamiliar.
I smoothed my dress reflexively, adjusted my hair, and walked forward.
Keifer was standing near the fireplace.
Relaxed.
Grounded.
His presence alone steadied me.
Beside him stood Keiren, arms folded, expression unreadable but curious.
And then—
The man seated on the couch rose slowly when he saw me.
He was tall. Silver threaded through dark hair. Sharp eyes softened by something like affection. He wore elegance without arrogance, authority without cruelty.
Keifer turned.
There it was.
That look.
The one that said this matters.
"Jay," he said quietly, holding my gaze. "Come here."
I stepped closer.
He placed a hand lightly at the small of my back—not possessive, just anchoring.
"This," he continued, "is Keir Watson. My uncle."
Keir smiled.
Not politely.
Warmly.
Like he'd already decided something about me.
"And Uncle Kier, My Woman, Jasper Jean Mariano, Jay Jay... "
"So," he said, voice smooth with a faint London lilt, "this is the woman who my nephew adores and worship...."
I blinked.
Keiren snorted. "You should've seen him before her Tito, he was a sorry kuya,a miserable bastard."
"KEIREN," Keifer warned, but there was no heat in it.
I laughed softly, tension easing.
Keir studied me openly, then gestured toward the couch.
"Sit, child. And don't call me 'sir.' I don't like distance in family."
Family.
The word hit harder than I expected.
I sat.
Keifer's knee brushed mine before he stepped away briefly toward the hallway.
"Give me a second," he said. "I'll be right back."
The moment he disappeared, the air shifted.
Not dangerously.
Intimately.
Keir turned fully toward me.
"You know," he said gently, "I was beginning to think I wouldn't live to see this day."
I frowned. "See what day?"
"Keifer choosing happiness without punishment," he replied.
My throat tightened.
He reached into the inner pocket of his coat slowly, deliberately—like he was performing a ritual rather than an action.
When he withdrew his hand, a velvet case rested in his palm.
My breath caught.
He opened it.
Inside lay a diamond set—necklace and earrings.
Old design.
Timeless.
Minimalist lines. Clean symmetry. The kind of elegance that didn't beg for attention but commanded it quietly.
"This," Keir said softly, "belonged to Serina Watson."
Keifer's mother.
My vision blurred instantly.
"She designed it herself," he continued. "Wore it on the day she married Keifer's father. And on the day she decided she deserved better."
I shook my head, already overwhelmed.
"I—I can't—this is too much—"
"She wanted her daughter-in-law to have it," Keir said firmly. "Not someone chosen for status. Not for legacy."
He met my eyes.
"For love."
Tears spilled freely now.
"I don't deserve—"
Keiren cut in quietly from the side.
"You do ate Jay, more than anything,I've never seen my brother look at anyone the way he looks at you. Not ever."
Keir nodded. "You gave him peace. That's rarer than worth."
My hands trembled as I touched the box.
"I'm scared," I whispered. "What if I fail her?"
Keir's voice softened.
"She failed no one by loving. Neither will you."
I swallowed hard.
Then nodded.
"I'll take care of it," I said. "Of this.her trust. Of him.and them.."
That was when Keifer returned.
He stopped short the moment he saw the open case.
His breath hitched.
"Uncle—"
Keir stood, placing the box gently into my hands.
"She's ready," he said simply. "And so are you."
Keifer looked at me like he was seeing a future he'd barely allowed himself to imagine.
I smiled through tears.
"I think your mother had good taste," I said softly.
He crossed the room in two steps and pulled me into his chest, forehead resting against mine.
"Thank you," he whispered. "For accepting all of it."
"Always," I replied. "I choose all of you."
Later, when the house quieted and conversations turned to guest lists and flowers and timelines, Keifer walked me upstairs.
At the door to our room, he paused.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded. "More than okay."
He kissed my forehead.
And as the door closed behind us, I realized—
I wasn't just marrying the man I loved.
I was stepping into a legacy that welcomed me back.
Not as an outsider.
But as home. 💗
— TWO NIGHTS BEFORE FOREVER
Two days before the wedding.
Which meant sleep was a myth, emotions were feral, and everyone around me had apparently agreed that peace was no longer allowed.
It started innocently.
Too innocently.
I was in the living room of the Watson house, curled up on the couch in Keifer's hoodie, scrolling aimlessly and pretending my heart wasn't doing gymnastics every time I remembered I was getting married in forty-eight hours.
Keifer sat beside me, arm around my shoulders, calm as ever.
That should've been my first warning.
The front door burst open.
Grace first—grinning like a menace. Celeste right behind her—already filming. And then chaos followed.
"OUT," Grace announced, pointing at Keifer like a prosecutor.
Keifer blinked. "Out… where?"
Celeste smiled sweetly. "Anywhere that is not within a five-mile radius of your fiancée."
Cin appeared behind them with Eman, Felix, Rory, and the rest of Section E like backup dancers.
"This," Cin said, clapping Keifer on the shoulder, "is an extraction."
Keifer looked at me. "Jay?"
Grace immediately blocked his view.
"No eye contact. No emotional manipulation."
"I literally live here," he protested.
"Not tonight you don't," Felix said cheerfully.
Within sixty seconds, Keifer was herded toward the door, jacket thrown at him, keys shoved into his hand.
He turned back one last time, eyebrows raised.
I shrugged helplessly. "I didn't plan this."
Grace leaned into his face. "We did."
The door slammed.
Silence.
Then Celeste squealed.
"BACHELORETTE NIGHTTTTT."
I groaned. "Oh no."
---
An hour later, I stood in front of the mirror—and barely recognized myself.
The dress was red.
Not romantic red.
Dangerous red.
Short. Sleek. Cut straight down the middle like it was daring the universe to try me. My legs looked unreal in long black heels, and my hair fell loose down my back, soft waves framing a version of me that felt bold and unapologetic.
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Grace and Celeste flanked me in black—tight dresses, sharp makeup, sunglasses indoors.
Bodyguard energy.
Grace nodded approvingly. "You look like the reason men forget their names."
Celeste grinned. "Keifer is going to suffer."
I laughed, nerves fluttering. "He trusts you people way too much."
"That's his first mistake," Grace said, grabbing her clutch.
---
The drive was loud.
Music blasting. Windows down. Celeste singing off-key. Grace hyping every red light like it was part of the experience.
When the club came into view—lights pulsing, bass thumping through the pavement—I felt it.
The release.
For weeks, everything had been heavy with meaning.
Tonight was just… fun.
The bouncer barely glanced before waving us in.
Inside, the air was electric.
Music wrapped around us. Lights flickered in rhythm. Bodies moved without thinking.
Grace ordered drinks immediately.
Celeste dragged me to the dance floor before I could protest.
"Tonight," she shouted over the music, "you are not a CEO, not a fiancée, not a future wife."
I raised an eyebrow. "Then what am I?"
She grinned.
"A legend."
We danced.
Hard.
Carefree.
Laughing until my cheeks hurt, moving like tomorrow didn't exist.
Men noticed.
Of course they did.
But Grace and Celeste formed a protective orbit like trained professionals.
One guy leaned too close—Grace stepped in.
Another offered a drink—Celeste intercepted.
"She's taken," Celeste said smoothly.
Grace added, "By a very scary man."
I laughed so hard I nearly spilled my drink.
At one point, breathless and glowing, I leaned against the bar, heart pounding—not from nerves, but from life.
From joy.
I caught my reflection in the mirror behind the bottles.
Red dress. Bright eyes. Smile that reached all the way in.
I looked happy.
Really happy.
And somewhere across the city, I knew Keifer was probably pretending not to miss me while missing me entirely.
That thought alone made my smile soften.
Two nights before forever.
And tonight—
I was exactly where I was meant to be.....