Keifer's POV
The mansion had never felt this big.
I stood near the window long after the call ended, phone still in my hand, staring at the empty driveway like she might walk back in if I waited hard enough.
She always left warmth behind.
That was the problem.
I finally set the phone down and loosened my tie. The silence pressed in—no Jay humming absent-mindedly, no footsteps, no soft questions about whether I'd eaten.
Just quiet.
Downstairs, the lights in the living room were still on. Percy had crashed on the couch again, one arm hanging off the side. Aries sat at the table, laptop open but clearly forgotten.
"She called?" Aries asked without looking up.
I nodded. "Yeah. She's okay."
That was enough. Aries closed the laptop. "Good."
Percy stirred. "You look like someone stole half your house."
I huffed a weak laugh. "Feels like it."
They didn't tease me. That's how I knew they understood.
Later, when everyone turned in, I walked through the rooms one by one—pure habit. The guest room. The study. Then our room.
Her pillow still smelled like her.
I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, and finally let myself feel it—the fear I hadn't shown, the ache I hadn't voiced.
Not of losing her.
Of the world asking too much of her, the way it always had.
"She's strong," I muttered to myself. "She'll be fine."
Still, I reached for my phone again—not to call, just to check the time difference. She'd be asleep by now.
Good.
I lay back, staring at the ceiling, imagining her safe in Angelo's house, wrapped in quiet instead of chaos.
"Come back soon," I whispered into the empty room. Not as a demand. As a hope.
Outside, the city lights flickered on and off like distant stars.
And for the first time, I understood something clearly:
Love wasn't holding on tighter.
It was trusting her to leave—and knowing she'd return.
Jay's pov
I woke before the sun.
The Fernandes house was still, wrapped in that quiet that only exists before dawn—like the world was holding its breath. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then I remembered Keifer wasn't just one room away, and my chest gave that familiar, soft ache.
A gentle knock came at the door.
"Jay," Tita Gemma's voice whispered. "It's time."
I washed my face, changed into the simple dress she'd laid out for me—light, unadorned, almost plain. No jewelry. No make
Downstairs, a small space had been prepared near the window. Candles flickered softly. A bowl of water sat on the table, petals floating on the surface. The air smelled faintly of incense and morning rain.
Angelo stood near the doorway, arms crossed—not guarding, just present. When our eyes met, he gave a small nod. You're okay.
My father was there too, standing a little apart. When he saw me, he smiled—quiet, proud, careful not to intrude.
My mother stood on the other side of the room. She didn't look at my father. He didn't push. For once, the distance didn't feel sharp—just accepted.
Tita Gemma took my hands. "This isn't about leaving anyone," she said softly. "It's about meeting yourself before you begin something new."
She asked me to close my eyes.
I did.
"Breathe," she said. "Think of the girl you were. The girl you are. And the woman you're becoming."
Images came without asking—lonely birthdays, small hopes, quiet strength, laughter I'd fought to keep alive. And then Keifer's face—steady, patient, choosing me every day.
My throat tightened.
Tita Gemma dipped her fingers into the water and brushed it lightly over my wrists. "Whatever you carry that isn't yours to keep—leave it here."
I exhaled.
Not dramatically. Not painfully.
Just… honestly.
When I opened my eyes, the sky outside was beginning to pale.
My father stepped forward then, hesitant. "Jay," he said. "May I?"
I nodded.
He placed his hand gently over mine. "I'm proud of you," he said. "Not just for the wedding. For who you've become."
It wasn't perfect. It didn't erase anything.
But it mattered.
Angelo cleared his throat quietly. "Breakfast's ready," he said, like he was giving me an exit before emotions got too heavy.
I smiled at him. Grateful.
As we moved toward the table, I felt lighter—not because everything was fixed, but because I didn't have to carry it all into my future.
And somewhere across the city, I knew Keifer was waking up.
I whispered it in my heart, like a promise:
I'm coming back.
The breakfast table was quiet in that careful way—cups clinking softly, the smell of warm bread filling the room, sunlight finally spilling through the windows.
I sat across from my father.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
He stirred his tea slowly, like he was buying time. I focused on my plate, pretending my heart wasn't racing. We'd always loved each other—but from a distance. Countries, years, silences had taught us how.
Finally, he cleared his throat.
"You look… peaceful," he said.
I smiled faintly. "I feel lighter."
He nodded, like that meant more to him than I knew.
"I wish I'd been around more," he added quietly.
I looked up then. Really looked at him. "You came now."
His eyes softened. "I did."
A pause settled between us—not empty, just thoughtful.
"I heard about Keifer," he continued. "From Percy. He's good to you."
He is," I said immediately. "He never makes me feel small."
My father's lips curved into a gentle smile. "That's all a parent ever wants."
Across the table, my mother sat silently, gaze fixed on her cup. She didn't interrupt. She didn't leave either. For once, that felt like something.
"I won't pretend I didn't make mistakes," my father said. "But I want you to know… wherever I am, whatever family I'm with, you are my daughter. That never changed."
Something warm and aching spread through my chest.
"I know," I said softly. "I just needed to hear it."
He reached across the table then—not dramatic, just careful—and squeezed my hand once.
Angelo entered with a phone pressed to his ear, then paused when he saw us. He quietly turned away, giving us space like he understood how rare moments like this were.
When breakfast ended, my father stood. "I'll leave you to your day," he said. "But… I'm glad I came home for this."
So was I.
Later that day
Keifer pov
Percy found me in the study, staring at the same document for the past ten minutes without actually reading a word.
"You look like you're arguing with paper," he said, dropping into the chair across from me.
I sighed. "Jay's with her family."
"I know," he said gently. "Dad told me."
That caught my attention. I looked up. "He talked to you?"
Percy nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Briefly. Awkwardly. Very him."
I leaned back, rubbing my jaw. "Families are complicated."
"That's one way to put it." He paused, then added, "You're worried about her."
"Always," I admitted. "Not because I don't trust her. I just… know how much she's had to carry."
Percy was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "My dad never says much. But when he talks about Jay, there's pride there. Regret too."
I swallowed. "She deserves better than half-spoken love."
Percy met my eyes. "She's finally hearing the rest of it."
That helped. More than he probably realized.
"You know," Percy continued, leaning forward, "I used to think family was whoever stayed. Blood didn't matter much."
"And now?" I asked.
"And now," he said softly, "I think family is whoever comes back—even when it's hard."
I nodded slowly. "She'll come back."
Percy smiled. "Yeah. She always does."
My phone buzzed then. A message from Jay.
Ritual's done. I feel lighter. Had breakfast with Papa. It was… good.
I stared at the screen, something easing in my chest.
Percy saw my face and grinned. "That her?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling for real now. "She's okay."
"Good," he replied, standing. "Then so are you."
As he left the room, I typed back:
I'm proud of you. Come home when you're ready.
And for the first time since she left, the mansion didn't feel so empty.