The morning light crept into Jeff's room, thin and pale through the blinds. Jenn stirred on the couch, her head heavy and foggy from the previous night. She blinked slowly, realizing she was still wearing Jeff's shirt. Memories of the party came rushing in — the shots, the laughter, Jeff's lips on hers… and that knock.
Her face flushed instantly. She sat up quickly, glancing around the quiet room. Jeff wasn't there anymore.
She stood up and walked downstairs
A faint voice came from the kitchen. "You're awake."
Jeff stood by the counter, a cup of coffee in hand. His hair was still damp from the shower, his tone calm but awkward.
"Morning," she said softly, rubbing her temple. "I feel terrible."
"Hangover," he replied with a small smile. "Water's on the table. You'll feel better soon."
She nodded, taking the glass. "Did I—did we—"
"No," he cut in gently. "We didn't. You were drunk, Jenn. I couldn't let that happen."
Her heart eased a little, though embarrassment still clung to her like a shadow. "Thanks," she whispered.
Before he could respond, a familiar voice interrupted from the hallway.
"Jeff."
It was Aunt Carol, holding a manila folder — the same one Jeff had been checking the night before. Her brows were furrowed.
"Where did you get this file?" she asked, her voice calm but firm.
Jeff blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, it was among the old hospital files I got for cross-checking some data. Why?"
Carol opened the folder, scanning through it, her expression tightening with every line she read.
"This isn't a regular file, Jeff. These are birth and transfer records from twenty-one years ago."
"Yeah, I noticed," he said carefully. "But it must've been a mistake—some mix-up with the paperwork. I was going to check—"
"No," she cut him off, closing the folder sharply. "You shouldn't. This isn't something you can just 'check.'"
Her tone had changed — lower, uneasy. She looked at him with a mixture of concern and urgency.
"Where exactly did you find it?"
"In the package from the hospital. Why? What's wrong?"
Carol sighed, pressing the folder against her chest. "This file doesn't belong here. I'll return it myself. Some things are better handled carefully, Jeff."
Jeff frowned, sensing something deeper behind her words. But before he could ask more, Carol was already walking toward the door.
"Aunt Carol—"
"I'll explain later," she said, not looking back. "Just… don't mention this to anyone, alright?"
And with that, she was gone.
Jeff stood frozen for a moment, staring at the door. Something about her tone made his stomach twist.
He turned back
Jeff stood frozen for a moment after the door closed, the faint click echoing through the quiet house. The silence was thick — the kind that pressed against your chest.
Jenn was still standing near the counter, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of Jeff's shirt she wore. "You okay?" she asked softly.
Jeff exhaled, forcing a faint smile. "Yeah. Just… not how I thought this morning would go."
Jenn laughed awkwardly. "Yeah. I think we both had different expectations."
He leaned against the counter, his eyes briefly meeting hers. "About last night…"
She froze. "Please don't."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, not like that. I just wanted to say you don't have to be embarrassed. You didn't do anything wrong."
Jenn looked down, cheeks flushing. "I practically threw myself at you, Jeff. That's… something."
"You were drunk," he said gently. "And honestly? It took everything in me not to…" He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to. I really did. But I couldn't do it like that."
Jenn's heart skipped. "Because I was drunk?"
He nodded slowly. "Because you deserve to remember it. Every second. Not wake up wondering if it was a mistake."
Her chest tightened. There was sincerity in his voice — the kind that made her feel safe and guilty all at once.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For not taking advantage of how I felt last night."
Jeff smiled faintly. "You make it sound like I'm a saint. I'm not. I wanted you, Jenn. But I want you when you're sure — not when the room's spinning."
She looked up at him, her throat tightening. "And if I'm sure now?"
That made him go still. His eyes locked on hers, searching — maybe for truth, maybe for permission. "Are you?" he asked quietly.
Jenn hesitated, the air thick between them. She didn't know what to say — because yes, she wanted him, but she also knew her heart was still messy, still tied somewhere it shouldn't be.
Her silence was answer enough.
Jeff exhaled, breaking eye contact first. "That's what I thought."
She winced. "Jeff—"
"No, it's fine," he said gently. "I get it. Things are complicated right now. Between you, me, Alden… everything."
"I didn't mean to make things complicated," she murmured.
He smiled sadly. "Complicated is fine. Just don't disappear, okay? You have this habit of running when things get real."
Jenn managed a small smile. "You're one to talk."
Jeff laughed quietly — the sound soft, tired, genuine. "Fair enough."
Silence fell again, lighter this time. Jenn watched him take another sip of coffee, his eyes distant, thoughtful. She could tell his mind was still on the folder Aunt Carol took.
"You're still thinking about that file, aren't you?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. It's stupid, I know. But she looked… scared."
"Scared?"
"Yeah. Like she'd just seen something she wasn't supposed to."
Jenn frowned. "You think it's that serious?"
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But I can feel it — something's not right. And now I can't stop thinking about it."
Jenn reached out instinctively, her hand brushing his. "Hey… maybe some things aren't meant to be found out."
Jeff looked down at their hands — her fingers, warm against his — and said softly, "Maybe. But when has that ever stopped me?"
She smiled faintly. "You really don't know how to let things go, do you?"
He smirked. "Not when they start with you."
Jenn's eyes flickered — surprised, flustered, but she didn't pull her hand away.
That was when the sound of a car door outside broke the stillness. They both turned toward the window. Aunt Carol's car was gone, the silence settling again.
Jeff finally pulled away, voice low. "Whatever's in that file… I'll find out. Somehow."
Jenn studied him, worry flickering across her face. "Just promise me you'll be careful."
He smiled softly, though his eyes carried something deeper — something unspoken. "You know I can't promise that."
Jenn sighed and reached for her bag. "I should go. Alden's probably wondering where I am."
Jeff's jaw tightened at the mention of his name. "Right. Alden."
She noticed the shift in his tone but didn't address it. "Thank you… for last night. For taking care of me."
"You don't have to thank me for that," he said softly. "Just promise me something."
Jenn paused at the staircase. "What?"
"Don't let him make you feel guilty for being here."
Her chest tightened. She wanted to respond, but the words tangled in her throat. So she just nodded — once — and left.