JAY-JAY POV
We drove in comfortable silence.
Keifer's hand rested on the gearshift, close enough to mine that I could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. The city lights faded behind us, replaced by winding roads and quiet trees. I didn't ask where we were going. I didn't need to.
He said it was peaceful.
And I trusted him.
When we pulled up, I blinked.
It was a clearing tucked behind a quiet park — soft grass, string lights hanging from low branches, and a blanket already laid out with a picnic spread that looked like it belonged in a movie montage.
Fruit. Sandwiches. Sparkling juice. Even tiny cupcakes with pink frosting.
I stepped out of the car slowly, like the moment might shatter if I moved too fast.
Keifer walked around to meet me, hands in his pockets, eyes soft.
"You did all this?" I asked.
He shrugged. "Kegain helped. But yeah. I wanted it to be… gentle."
I didn't realize how much I needed to be gentle until he said it.
We sat down on the blanket, the night air cool but not cold. Crickets chirped somewhere in the distance. The stars blinked overhead like they were watching us on purpose.
I took a bite of a strawberry and leaned back on my elbows.
"This is perfect," I said.
Keifer smiled. "You deserve perfect."
And for the first time in days — maybe weeks — I felt like I could breathe.
"Jay" He called out softly "I love you until scientist find the end of the universe"
"Me too Keifer I love you so much" I admitted
He kissed me softly
We sat beneath the stars, the picnic half-forgotten, the night quiet around us.
Keifer's fingers were laced with mine, warm and steady. His presence felt like gravity — like something I could anchor myself to.
But inside, something was still shaking.
And I knew if I didn't say it now, I might never say it.
"Keifer," I whispered.
He turned to me, eyes soft. "Yeah?"
"There's something I need to tell you."
He didn't speak. Just waited.
"I'm afraid of blood," I said. "Not just a little. It shuts me down. I panic. I freeze."
He nodded slowly, listening.
"It's because… when I was younger, my stepfathers weren't just cruel. They were dangerous."
My voice cracked.
"One night, they tried to take something from me. Something they had no right to touch."
Keifer's breath caught.
"And Jenna… she was there. She saw. She didn't stop it."
I felt the tears before I could stop them. My chest tightened. My throat burned.
"I had to fight back," I said. "I hurt one of them. There was blood. On me. On the floor. On my hands."
I couldn't breathe.
"I hate the smell of it. The sight. It reminds me of that night. Of what I had to do to survive."
I broke down.
Right there on the blanket, under the stars, in front of the boy who loved me.
I sobbed into my hands, trying to hold it in, trying to stay composed — but it was too much.
Keifer didn't say anything.
He just pulled me into his arms.
Held me.
Tight. Safe. Real.
His hand cradled the back of my head. His voice was low, steady, grounding.
"You're safe now," he whispered. "You're here. You're strong. You're not alone."
I clung to him like he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
Because maybe he was.
"I'm so sorry," he said, voice thick. "You didn't deserve any of that."
"I survived," I whispered. "But sometimes I still feel like I'm stuck there."
"You're not," he said. "You're here. With me. And I'll never let anyone hurt you again."
I looked up at him, eyes swollen, heart aching.
And he kissed my forehead.
Soft. Certain. Safe.
Keifer POV
She was trembling.
Not the kind you can talk someone out of. Not the kind that fades with a hug or a joke.
Jay was shaking like her body remembered something her voice hadn't finished saying.
And I knew — this wasn't just pain. This was memory. This was survival.
She'd just told me everything.
About the men who hurt her. About the night they tried to take what wasn't theirs. About how Jenna stood there and did nothing. About how Jay had to fight back. About the blood.
And now?
She was breaking.
Her breathing turned shallow. Her eyes unfocused. Her hands clenched into fists like she was bracing for impact.
"Jay," I said softly, moving closer. "You're safe. You're here. You're with me."
She didn't respond.
She was somewhere else — trapped in a moment that didn't deserve her.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her into my chest, and held her like I could shield her from the past.
Her body was rigid at first. Then it collapsed into mine.
She sobbed. Loud. Raw. Unfiltered.
And I didn't say a word.
I just held her.
"I've got you," I whispered. "You don't have to carry this alone."
She clung to me like I was the only thing keeping her tethered.
And maybe I was.
Because in that moment, I didn't care about the stars or the picnic or the perfect night.
I cared about her.
About the girl who fought back. About the girl who survived. About the girl who was still learning how to breathe.