Keifer pov:
I didn't snap loudly.
That was the worst part.
No shouting. No slammed doors. No dramatic scene anyone could stop.
I snapped quietly.
It started with the flowers.
Another bouquet.
Different colors this time. Softer. Intentional. The kind of arrangement that meant someone knew her well. I watched from across the hall as Jay bent to pick them up, fingers brushing the card with a familiarity that made my chest tighten.
She didn't hesitate.
Didn't question.
Didn't look around to see who might be watching.
She took them inside.
I stood there long after her door closed, staring at the empty space where she had been, something ugly crawling up my throat.
I told myself not to care.
I failed.
Later that night, I heard laughter.
Jay's.
Low. Soft. Real.
It came from Lucas's condo.
That was when something inside me fractured.
I knocked.
Harder than I meant to.
The door opened—and there she was.
Jay froze when she saw me. Not startled. Not afraid.
Just tired.
"What do you want?" she asked.
Lucas appeared behind her instantly.
That did it.
"So that's how it is now?" I said, my voice sharp despite myself. "You won't even talk to me, but him—you let him—"
"Stop," Jay cut in. "Right now."
"No," I said. "You don't get to shut me out and pretend this doesn't hurt."
Lucas stepped forward. "Keifer—"
"This doesn't concern you," I snapped.
Jay's eyes hardened.
"It concerns him because I let it," she said coldly. "Something you never understood."
That stung.
"You think this is moving on?" I demanded. "You think laughing with him, taking flowers from some stranger—"
Her face went still.
"Don't," she warned.
I ignored it.
"—you think that replaces what we had?"
That was when she stepped fully into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
Creating distance.
Always distance.
"This," she said calmly, "is exactly why I pulled away."
I laughed bitterly. "Because I care?"
"Because you feel entitled," she replied. "To my time. My space. My healing."
My hands clenched at my sides. "I'm fighting for you."
"No," she said quietly. "You're fighting losing."
Silence dropped like a blade.
Lucas didn't say a word. He didn't have to. His presence was steady, grounding—everything I wasn't in that moment.
"You don't even look at me anymore," I said, the words slipping out rough and raw. "Do I really mean that little to you now?"
She met my eyes then.
And there was nothing soft in them.
"You mean enough for me to protect myself," she said. "That's all you get now."
Something in my chest gave way.
"So that's it?" I asked. "You erase me and move on like I was nothing?"
Her voice didn't rise. Didn't shake.
"I'm not erasing you," she said. "I'm remembering myself."
That broke whatever restraint I had left.
"You're being cruel," I said. "You know that?"
She nodded once. "And you were careless. Cruel lasts longer."
Lucas finally spoke. "You should leave."
I turned to him, anger flashing. "You think you won?"
Jay's voice cut through like ice.
"This isn't a competition," she said. "And if it were—you already lost the moment I had to beg myself not to trust you."
That was it.
No comeback.
No argument.
I took a step back, breathing hard, realizing too late how far I'd pushed.
"I didn't come here to hurt you," I said hoarsely.
"But you did," she replied.
Then she opened the door and went inside.
The lock clicked.
I stood alone in the hallway, heart racing, thoughts spiraling, hands trembling with everything I hadn't said—and everything I had said too late.
I hadn't touched her.
I hadn't shouted.
I hadn't crossed any visible line.
But I had snapped.
And now I knew the truth I'd been avoiding:
Every time I tried to pull her back, I was only proving why she'd let go.
And the scariest part?
Someone else was stepping into the quiet I'd destroyed.