Thank you all so much for your incredible patience, unwavering support, and the warmth in every comment you've shared. Your kind words, thoughtful reactions, and gentle encouragement make this journey so special. Every time you take a moment to read, react, or simply wait-you're adding heart to these pages. I'm deeply grateful for each one of you. More heartfelt moments are on their way-thank you for being here, for feeling with the characters, and for sticking around. You're the reason this story breathes.✨
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Jay was buried under three blankets on the couch, her hair sticking up at odd angles, her nose red from tissues, and a deep scowl carved onto her face.
Keifer appeared in the doorway with a tray-soup, tea, and crackers-balanced precariously in one hand. He wore oven mitts like it was radioactive.
"I bring offerings to the gremlin queen," he announced.
She glared. "If you make one goblin joke, I'll cough in your cereal."
"That's fair," he said, grinning, and set the tray down on the coffee table. "Although your growl just now confirmed you've gone full cave troll."
Jay let out a grunt and pulled the blanket higher. "I hate being sick. My face is leaking. My body is betraying me. I can't taste anything, and I'm ninety percent mucus."
He handed her the mug of tea with mock reverence. "To Queen Snot."
She narrowed her eyes. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"You're a menace when you're sick," he said, sitting beside her with a grin. "So grumpy."
Jay grumbled from under three blankets, clutching her tea like it held the meaning of life. "At least I'm not overdramatic. Unlike other people."
Keifer, perched at the edge of the couch with a suspiciously smug look, turned to her slowly. "Oh? You want to talk
about dramatic?"
She sipped her tea, eyes avoiding his. "I'm just saying."
"You-" he jabbed a finger at her cocoon, "-refused to take your meds because they 'tasted like betrayal."
"They do," she muttered.
He held up a finger. "But when I had a mild cold-"
"Oh God, here we go," she groaned.
"-you said I was doing Shakespearean death scenes on the hour."
Jay's lips twitched. "You were. You clutched the remote like it was your last will and testament."
"Because I was dying," Keifer insisted,
dramatically pressing a hand to his chest.
"You had a cold, Keifer."
"I suffered nobly," he said. "You told me I moaned like a ghost haunting a Victorian attic."
Jay snorted into her tea. "You did."
"Shall I remind you," he said, grinning now, "of the PlayStation will?"
She choked on laughter. "Okay, okay. Point made."
Keifer leaned back, triumphant. "Exactly."
Jay rolled her eyes, muttering, "Still not as bad as you."
Few Weeks Ago
Jay entered the apartment, kicking off her shoes as she balanced two grocery bags on one arm. "Keifer?" she called. "I got the NyQuil you wanted and-"
A dramatic cough interrupted her, echoing from the living room like a sound effect from a melodramatic telenovela.
Jay raised a brow.
She stepped into the room to find Keifer sprawled across the couch, a tissue box clutched to his chest, and a cold compress dramatically pressed to his forehead.
"Oh my God," she said, deadpan. "You look like you're waiting to be buried."
He turned slowly, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy. "Is that... is that you, Jay? I
was starting to think I'd never see you again..."
"It's been four hours," she said, placing the bags on the table.
"Time means nothing when you're suffering," he croaked, followed by another pitiful cough. "This might be my final hour."
Jay rolled her eyes. "You're not dying, Keifer. It's a cold, not consumption."
He blinked dramatically. "Tell my lawyer I want you to have the PlayStation."
Jay burst out laughing, sitting beside him and pulling the thermometer from his side. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm tragic," he corrected, blowing his nose with the energy of a dying seal.
"This is my swan song."
"Pretty sure swans don't whine this much."
Keifer sniffed. "You'll miss me when I'm gone."
"You'll be gone for maybe thirty-six hours," she said, grabbing the grocery bag. "And I've stocked enough soup, meds, and tissues to get you through the plague."
He peeked over the blanket. "Did you get the lemon honey tea?"
"I got you lemon, honey, and tea," Jay replied, tossing him a bag of lozenges. "And if you die tonight, it'll be from melodrama poisoning."
Keifer weakly reached out a hand. "If I perish... play Take My Breath Away at
the funeral."
Jay smirked. "That's oddly appropriate, considering how congested you sound."
He groaned and dramatically flopped his head to the side.
Jay went to the kitchen, shaking her head with a smile. She boiled water and steeped the tea, glancing occasionally at the slumped figure on the couch.
When she returned with the mug, Keifer had moved exactly one inch and was now whispering to himself. "...Was I a good husband?"
"You're a contractual one," she said, placing the mug in his hands. "And you're better when your nose isn't redder than a stop sign.
He took a sip. "Ouch."
She grinned. "Truth hurts."
He sniffed again, nose wrinkling. "You still find me attractive, right?"
Jay looked him up and down. Hair disheveled, hoodie inside out, sock on only one foot. "Like a swamp gremlin."
Keifer grinned through his haze. "So... still a chance, then."
Jay sat beside him again and picked up the remote. "You know, I've never seen a man act like he's on his deathbed over a common cold."
"It's not a common cold," he whispered dramatically. "It's a war. My immune system has collapsed. The end is near."
Jay leaned in, deadpan. "If you sneeze on me, I'll actually smother you with this pillow."
"Then let me sneeze," he croaked, leaning closer, "and die in your arms."
She shoved him lightly and laughed. "You're the worst patient ever."
"And yet," Keifer sniffed, "you came back with lemon tea, vapor rub, and sarcasm. Must be love."
"Must be pity," she quipped, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch. "Here-don't whine later about chills."
Keifer blinked as she draped it over him. "Is this a sympathy burrito situation, or...?"
She gave him a look. "It's so you don't freeze to death and haunt me with passive-aggressive ghost sighs."
He smirked, snuggling deeper into the blanket. "You sure this isn't a ploy to feel me up while I'm weak and helpless?"
"I swear to God-"
"I'm kidding," he wheezed, eyes twinkling. "But if I die mid-snark, make sure you mention how strong I was. And hot. In both senses."
Jay paused, folding her arms. "You know what? I hope you live to regret this entire conversation."
"Too late. My entire life is flashing before my eyes." He paused. "You're in most of it."
Jay froze for half a second, caught off guard, but recovered quickly.
"Well," she muttered, "guess your hallucinations are setting in."
"I'm not hallucinating," he mumbled into the pillow.
She didn't say anything right away.
"Sleep," she said instead, voice softer now. "You need to rest, Keifer."
Keifer didn't argue. Maybe he was too tired, or maybe he noticed the tiny tremble in her voice.
A few minutes later, Jay settled into the armchair with a blanket and a book, watching as his breathing evened out.
Present Day
Jay was hunched on the couch like a defeated marshmallow, wrapped in two blankets, a tissue wedged between
her fingers, and a glare aimed directly at the tub of Vicks in her lap.
"You're losing the staring contest," Keifer said from the kitchen, a mug in his hand. "Pretty sure the vapor rub blinked first."
She grumbled. "It's mocking me. I can feel it."
He held out the other hand toward the little blue jar. "Want me to rub it on your back?"
Jay squinted at him suspiciously. "I can do it myself."
"Right," Keifer said, sitting beside her. "Just like you 'did it yourself' when you tried to steam your face over the kettle and nearly boiled your eyebrows off."
"That was one time."
"And a tragic one," he said, taking a dramatic sip of his tea.
Jay waved him off. "Seriously. I'll handle it. Just... give me a second."
Jay perched on the edge of the couch, shoulders hunched, vapor jar in one hand and stubborn pride in the other.
Keifer watched her from the armchair, sipping tea like he was front row at a circus.
"I don't need help," Jay declared, twisting her arm behind her back with a grunt. "I've got this."
"Uh-huh," Keifer deadpanned. "Looks very under control. Definitely not like you're trying to pat out a fire behind you."
She made a face. "This is fine. I just have to-" she craned her arm further, "-angle it better."
"You look like you're trying to swat an invisible ghost."
Jay stuck out her tongue and attempted another go, her hand smearing a vague trail of menthol near her shoulder blade. "See? Done."
"You missed your entire back."
She narrowed her eyes. "Did not."
"You rubbed one sad patch of vapor rub near your armpit."
"I will cough into your mouth," she warned.
Keifer raised both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Just saying this might.
go faster with two arms. And a second person."
Jay hesitated, then huffed. "Fine. But only because my arm's cramping."
He smirked. "Glad to be your second-string Vapor rub applicator."
She shoved the jar into his hands and turned around, tugging up the back of her shirt. "No funny business."
"I'm a professional," Keifer said solemnly. "Board-certified in applying goo to stubborn people."
Keifer dipped his fingers into the jar, warming the rub between his hands. "No weirdness. This is purely medical."
Then his palm met her skin.
She flinched. "Cold!"
"Hold still," he murmured.
His fingers grazed her back, and Jay tensed-just a fraction. The vapor rub was cool, sharp with menthol, but it was his hand she felt more. Steady, warm, firm in a way that made her chest tighten.Every glide of his palm sent little jolts up her spine, like sparks catching in nerves she didn't even know she had
He moved slowly, almost carefully, spreading the balm with deliberate strokes. She sat still, eyes fixed on the muted TV across the room, trying to ignore how her skin tingled under his touch. His hand skimmed lower, brushing just below her shoulder blade. Her breath hitched-barely.
"Almost done," he said, his voice lower than usual, close to her ear.
She swallowed, nodding.
When he finally pulled his hand away, the absence felt louder than the contact had. Her back was warm, buzzing. Her heart beat too fast for someone allegedly sick.
She tugged the blanket up to her chin, eyes still fixed on the TV screen though she wasn't really watching. Keifer had gone quiet beside her, and the scent of eucalyptus lingered in the air like a memory she couldn't shake.
Her back still tingled where his hand had been. She shifted under the blanket, trying to settle. It was probably the rub. The warmth. The fever. The weird silence of being sick. That had to be it.
Not him.
Definitely not him.
"Get some rest," he said softly, his voice low, almost careful. "I'll be here."
She nodded, but didn't speak. Her throat ached too much for words-and her thoughts were too knotted up anyway.
As her eyes fluttered shut, she felt the couch dip slightly as he adjusted the blanket around her, his hand brushing her shoulder with a tenderness she wasn't ready to name. Her body relaxed in increments, the hum in her chest slowly dissolving into the pull of sleep.
And still, as she drifted off, all she could feel was the ghost of his touch and the question it left behind.
Why did something so small feel so big?
Sleep claimed her before she could answer.
The room was quiet-too quiet. The TV had dimmed to its sleep screen, casting a soft blue glow over the apartment. Keifer sat slouched in the armchair across from the couch, one arm flung over the armrest, dozing lightly.
Jay stirred beneath the blanket, a frown twitching across her sleeping face. Her breath hitched, her legs tensed beneath the throw. Then-
"No-no, please-" she whimpered, voice barely audible, but urgent.
Keifer's eyes snapped open. "Jay?"
She bolted upright, gasping like she'd
broken through water. Her eyes were wild, glassy. Her chest heaved as she looked around in panic, her hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the blanket.
"Jay?" Keifer stood quickly, crossing to her in two strides. "Hey-hey, it's okay. You're safe."
Her head jerked toward his voice, and for a moment, she just stared at him like she didn't recognize where she was. Then suddenly, she reached for him. Not with hesitation, but desperation.
"I-I thought... I thought I was alone," she whispered, her voice breaking as she clung to him. She pressed her face into his chest, her hands clutching at his shirt as her body shook with residual fear. "I thought it was real, Keifer. I-I couldn't-"
He felt her sobs before he heard them, the tremors in her body hitting him like waves. Keifer's heart ached, and he didn't hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. "You're not alone, Jay. I'm here. You're safe."
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of the nightmare, but the images were still so vivid. The fear, the helplessness, the feeling of being lost-it all threatened to pull her back under.
Keifer ran his hand through her hair gently, his voice soft but steady. "It's just a nightmare. Whatever it was, it's not real. I'm right here."
Jay's breath was ragged as she clung to him. "I couldn't... I couldn't escape it," she whispered, her words coming out in jagged gasps. "It was like I was trapped. I couldn't move, I couldn't-"
"Shh," he interrupted softly, pressing his hand against her back in a rhythmic, comforting motion. "It's okay, Jay. You're safe now. You're awake. You're okay."
She let out a shaky breath, her fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt, but there was a slight steadiness in her hold now. Slowly, her breath began to even out, the panic that had once gripped her now subsiding just a little.
Keifer could feel her heart rate slowing beneath his touch, and he knew that she needed the silence, the comfort, more than anything else. He didn't push her to talk about it. He simply continued to hold her, his presence a steady anchor.
"Keifer," she said softly after a long pause, her voice still a little unsteady. "I don't know what happened... It felt so real. I-"
"I know," he murmured, kissing the top of her head gently. "I know, Jay. Sometimes dreams feel like that. But they're not real. "
She finally pulled back just slightly, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. "I... I thought I lost everything," she whispered, the rawness of her emotions evident in her voice.
Keifer didn't say anything at first. He just cupped her face gently in his hands, wiping away the stray tears with his thumbs. "You're not losing anything, Jay. I'm right here."
Her breath hitched again, but this time, it was calmer. She nodded, a small,
shaky smile forming on her lips as she leaned back into his arms.
"I'm here," he whispered back, his voice full of quiet assurance. "Always."
Keifer held her close, her cheek nestled against his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt damp with a few leftover tears. The storm in her breath had calmed, replaced by uneven exhales that brushed gently against his ribs. She was quieter now, but her arms were still wrapped around him, and he could feel the faint tremor in her hands.
His hand moved gently to her head, fingers combing through her hair in slow, soothing strokes. He wanted her to feel anchored-safe. "You need to sleep, Jay," he said softly, resting his chin on top of her head.
She gave a small, reluctant shake of her head, still curled tightly against him. "I don't want to close my eyes."
"I know," he murmured. "But I've got you. Nothing's gonna happen while I'm here. You trust me, right?"
She nodded faintly, the movement brushing her temple against his collarbone.
His lips met her hair in a tender kiss, not rushed or fleeting, but lingering -quietly deliberate. He closed his eyes as he did it, letting the moment speak in place of the words he wasn't sure he could say yet. The scent of her shampoo, the faint tremble still in her body-it all made his chest ache. The kiss wasn't just comfort. It was a promise, silent and steady: I'm here. I'm staying.
"Then let go for a little while. Just rest."
Jay didn't respond, but her fingers that had been clutching his shirt loosened slightly. Her breath hitched once, then steadied, as if her body was slowly beginning to believe his words.
Keifer pulled the blanket higher over her shoulders and shifted just enough to make them both comfortable on the couch. The cushions dipped beneath their weight, but he didn't care about comfort for himself-just her. His hand continued patting her head gently, his other arm wrapped around her back, warm and steady.
"I'll be here when you wake up," he whispered.
A soft breath escaped her. "Okay..."
The word was barely audible, a slip of sound that made his heart squeeze. She
trusted him. Enough to let herself drift.
Within moments, her body grew heavier in his arms, tension melting away. Her breathing grew deeper, more rhythmic. One of her hands slid off his shirt and came to rest limply on his chest, her fingers relaxed.
Keifer kept patting her head in a slow rhythm, his thumb brushing the edge of her ear now and then. He watched her face-the soft lines of it, the damp lashes, the way her lips were slightly parted as she finally began to sleep.
"Sleep well, Jay," he whispered, voice barely audible. "I'll keep the nightmares away."
He stayed like that, arms wrapped around her, anchored in place by a sense of quiet purpose. She was safe now. Whatever storm she'd faced in her dreams, it couldn't touch her here.
And for the first time that night, she did.
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The Other chapter and the book update is coming soon... ✨✨
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