The air in the mansion's drawing room was thick with tension. Jay and Keifer stood a few feet apart, the echo of their voices bouncing off the high ceilings.
"I can't believe you're acting like this!" Jay snapped, crossing her arms.
Keifer's jaw tightened. "Like what, Jay? I'm just… doing what's expected of me!"
"Expected?!" she laughed bitterly, her voice rising. "You're supposed to care about me! But no, you're too busy being perfect for everyone else!"
"I care! I care in my own way!" Keifer shot back. "Stop twisting everything!"
Jay's eyes flared, the frustration boiling over. "You know what? We're still haters, Keifer. Always have been, always will be!"
The words hung in the air like a sudden storm. Keifer froze, hurt flashing across his face, though he tried to mask it. Jay didn't notice at first—her own anger and disappointment had taken over.
After that, silence. Weeks passed. The family's arrangements moved forward. Guests came and went. Polite laughter, sparkling glasses, formal congratulations—the world kept turning.
And then, on the day of the engagement, in front of both families, Keifer did something Jay hadn't expected.
He turned to the girl he was engaged to, his posture straight, voice steady. "I love you," he said, clear and unwavering. "I always have, and I want to spend my life with you."
Jay, standing a few steps away, felt her chest tighten. She hadn't anticipated this. She hadn't expected to feel… shaken.
Her hands clenched at her sides. A pang of guilt cut through her calm façade. Why do I feel like this? she thought, staring at the girl laughing softly with Keifer. It's not my place. He's supposed to… it's supposed to be her.
Her heart felt strangely hollow, a twinge of insecurity she hadn't known existed. She had always believed she was untouchable, independent, unbothered by Keifer's choices. But seeing him declare his love, seeing him choose someone else so openly, it unsettled her.
Jay looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers together. She hated feeling this way—guilty for emotions she couldn't control, insecure for a man who had never really been hers, yet somehow still mattered more than she wanted to admit.
Keifer's gaze swept over the room, polite, attentive, and for a brief moment, their eyes met.
"Jay…" he said softly, almost a whisper, though it was drowned by the applause around them.
She forced a small smile, shaking her head ever so slightly. "Go on, Keifer," she said quietly. "Be happy."
And as she turned to face the window, the warm glow of the evening lights hitting the polished floor, Jay realized something that surprised her more than she wanted to admit: she cared.
She cared more than she should.
And that made her feel guilty. Insecure. Vulnerable.