The first person who noticed the change in Jay…
wasn't her parents.
It was the staff.
Not in words.
In pauses.
In surprised glances when she walked past the morning meeting room instead of entering it.
In the way no one stopped her anymore.
Because Keifer always walked beside her.
Not ahead.
Not behind.
With her.
They were crossing the marble corridor when his phone rang.
He slowed.
"You go," he said softly. "I'll catch up."
Jay nodded and took a few steps forward.
Then she heard her name.
Not called.
Discussed.
Her father's voice drifted from the partially open door.
"…she's getting distracted. This marriage was supposed to stabilise her."
Her mother answered quietly.
"She was never meant to lead. Keifer understands business. Jay is… emotional."
Jay stopped.
Her fingers curled slowly at her side.
Not because she was shocked.
Because she wasn't.
She stood there long enough for the words to settle.
To stop hurting.
And start… clarifying.
Keifer returned just then.
He saw her face.
Instantly.
"What happened?"
She didn't cry.
That surprised even her.
"They don't think I'm capable."
Keifer frowned.
"Who?"
She nodded toward the door.
He took one step forward.
Jay caught his sleeve.
"No."
He stopped.
She looked up at him.
"I don't want you to fix it."
His jaw tightened.
"Jay—"
"I want to answer it," she said quietly.
He searched her face.
Then slowly…
He nodded.
They didn't go into the meeting room.
Jay turned instead.
Toward the smaller private office across the hall.
She pushed the door open.
Her parents looked up, startled.
Jay closed the door behind her.
Her voice was calm.
Too calm for how fast her heart was beating.
"Can I ask you something?"
Her father straightened.
"What is it, Jay?"
She took a breath.
"When did anyone ever ask me what I wanted to become?"
Silence.
Her mother's lips parted.
Then closed again.
Jay continued before either of them could recover.
"You plan my days. My future. My marriage. My role."
Her hands trembled slightly.
But she didn't hide them.
"You talk about stability. About image. About business."
She looked at her father.
"And you never once asked if I even wanted to stand there with you."
Her mother frowned softly.
"We did everything for you."
Jay nodded.
"I know."
That was the problem.
Her father exhaled slowly.
"This isn't the time for emotions."
Jay felt something strange.
Relief.
"There it is," she whispered.
Both of them looked at her.
"You think I'm emotional because I finally spoke."
Her voice didn't rise.
It didn't need to.
"I'm not weak."
She lifted her chin.
"I'm untrained. Because you never let me try."
A long pause filled the room.
From the doorway…
Keifer stayed silent.
Exactly as he promised.
Her father looked unsettled now.
"What are you asking for, Jay?"
She answered without hesitation.
"I want to work. Not as a figure. Not as a wife."
She met his eyes.
"As your daughter."
Her mother shifted in her seat.
"And if we say no?"
Jay inhaled.
Slow.
Steady.
"Then I'll find another way."
The words shocked even her.
But they were true.
Behind her, Keifer's breath hitched quietly.
Her father leaned back.
Studied her.
For the first time…
Not as a liability.
As a risk.
Which, strangely…
Was progress.
"You'll start with the regional division," he said after a long moment.
Jay blinked.
"What?"
"Six months," he continued.
"No special treatment."
Her mother turned sharply toward him.
He lifted a hand.
"She asked for a chance."
Jay's chest tightened.
In a good way.
She bowed her head slightly.
"Thank you."
When they stepped out into the corridor, her knees almost gave in.
Keifer caught her arm instinctively.
"You did it," he whispered.
Jay laughed softly.
Half breathless.
Half stunned.
"They actually listened."
He looked at her like she'd just rewritten the rules of the world.
"They didn't listen because you're my wife."
He leaned closer.
"They listened because you're finally speaking like yourself."
Jay smiled.
And for the first time…
The question nobody had ever asked her
had finally been answered
by her own voice.