Jay POV
I should've known my peace wouldn't last.
My phone buzzed while I was tying my hair, the screen lighting up with a name I should have blocked during business hours.
Mom.
Mom: Dinner tonight.
Mom: Don't argue.
Mom: Just meet him once.
I sighed, already exhausted.
Jay: Mom, I already told you. I'm not looking for anyone right now.
Mom: You said the same thing last time.
Mom: This one is different.
That was never a good sign.
Jay: Who is he?
There was a pause. Too long.
Mom: You'll see.
Mom: 7 PM. Same restaurant as last time.
I stared at the screen.
I hate surprises.
Still, I went.
Because saying no to my mother had never ended well.
Jay POV — Evening
I dressed simply this time. Black top. Soft makeup. Hair down but neat.
It's just dinner, I told myself.
Survive it. Leave early.
The restaurant was already familiar now—warm lights, quiet music, low conversations. I scanned the room automatically, half-expecting—
No.
I shook my head.
Don't be ridiculous.
The hostess led me to a reserved table near the window.
"Your date is already here," she said.
I nodded politely, heart calm.
Until—
I stopped.
He stood up the moment he saw me.
Tall. Dark-haired. Serious expression.
Lucas Noir.
My brain went completely blank.
No.
No no no.
This has to be a joke.
"Jay," he said quietly.
I stared at him. "Lucas?"
Silence.
The kind that presses against your ears.
"Why are you here?" we asked at the same time.
I laughed. It came out sharp, disbelieving.
"Please tell me this isn't—"
"A blind date?" he finished.
We both froze.
Oh.
Oh no.
Jay POV — Sitting Down
We sat across from each other like strangers, except we weren't. At all.
Lucas looked… uncomfortable. That alone told me everything.
"My mother said she knew someone's family," he said slowly. "Said it would be… appropriate."
I rubbed my forehead.
"She didn't tell me who."
"Mine didn't either."
Of course.
Two mothers. One disaster.
"This is bad," I muttered.
"This is extremely bad," Lucas agreed.
A waiter arrived, oblivious, placing menus between us.
"Would you like to start with drinks?"
Lucas nodded politely. "Yes, thank you."
The moment the waiter left, Lucas leaned back slightly, exhaling.
"Jay… I swear, if I'd known it was you, I would've stopped this."
I looked at him. Really looked.
He wasn't tense.
Wasn't guarded.
Just… awkward.
That almost made it worse.
"Same," I said honestly. "This feels illegal."
His lips twitched despite himself.
Jay POV — The Realization
We talked. Carefully.
About work. About neutral things. About anything except the obvious.
It was strange—Lucas had always been calm, controlled, protective. Sitting across from him like this felt wrong in a way I couldn't explain.
Not romantic.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… not meant to be.
"You don't look happy," he said quietly.
"Neither do you."
He gave a small smile. "I was hoping you'd say that."
Relief washed over me.
"We should tell them," I said. "Our families. That this—"
"Isn't happening?" he finished.
I nodded.
"Yes."
He didn't hesitate.
"Agreed."
Jay POV — The Interruption
I felt it before I saw it.
That awareness.
I looked up.
Keifer had just walked in.
My heart dropped straight to my stomach.
He stopped the moment his eyes found me.
Then—
Lucas.
Then the space between us.
The silence.
Oh no.
Keifer's jaw tightened.
His gaze flicked between us once.
Twice.
Then he smiled.
That slow, dangerous smile.
Keifer POV
So this was "busy."
I stood there for a moment, my body completely still.
Jay.
Lucas.
Across from each other.
Dinner.
I laughed softly.
Unbelievable.
I walked over casually, hands in my pockets.
"Didn't know this place hosted… reunions," I said pleasantly.
Jay looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her.
Lucas stiffened slightly.
"Keifer," Jay said. "This isn't—"
"A date?" I guessed, glancing between them. "Because it really looks like one."
Lucas met my gaze calmly.
"It's not."
Jay turned to Lucas, startled.
He continued evenly, "This was a misunderstanding."
I studied him for a long second.
Then I looked at Jay.
Her expression said everything.
Relief. Panic. Embarrassment.
Hope.
"I see," I said slowly.
And for the first time that night—
I believed her.
Jay POV — After
The chaos didn't explode.
It simmered.
Keifer didn't storm out.
Lucas didn't explain.
But the tension sat there between us like a live wire.
This is going to get complicated.
And somehow—
I knew.
Nothing about us was accidental anymore.
I thought he'd be gone.
That's why I stopped short the moment I stepped outside the restaurant and saw him leaning against his car, phone in his hand, expression unreadable.
Waiting.
My chest tightened anyway.
"You followed me?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay light.
He lifted his head slowly. "No."
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I had a meeting nearby."
I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Convenient."
He didn't take the bait.
"It was with my lawyer," he said evenly. "If that matters."
I froze.
Lawyer.
So… not a date.
The realization annoyed me more than it relieved me.
"Why should I care?" I shot back. "I don't care what you do. Or who you go with."
He straightened, pushing off the car.
"Don't lie to me."
I crossed my arms. "I'm not."
"You are," he said calmly, but there was tension under it. "And you're bad at it when you're angry."
That hit too close.
"You don't get to comment on my emotions," I snapped. "Not after eight years."
"You think I don't know that?" he replied. "You think I don't count them?"
Silence stretched between us.
I forced myself to breathe.
"You saw Lucas," I said. "That's all this is. Your ego."
His jaw clenched.
"I care," he said quietly.
I scoffed. "Since when?"
He stepped closer.
Not invading my space.
Just… present.
"Since always," he said. "Since before you left. Since after. Since every day I woke up knowing I lost you."
I shook my head. "You don't get to say that."
"I do," he said. "Because I freaking love you."
The words landed hard.
Too hard.
My chest hurt.
"Stop," I whispered.
"No," he said just as softly. "You don't get to pretend this doesn't matter."
I laughed shakily. "You think love fixes what you did?"
"No," he answered immediately. "I think it explains why I'm still here."
That—
That broke something open.
"I forgave you," I said suddenly.
He froze.
My heart pounded.
"I didn't tell you," I continued, my voice shaking. "And I didn't plan to. But I did. A long time ago."
His eyes searched my face like he didn't dare believe it.
"Jay—"
"Don't misunderstand," I said quickly. "Forgiving you doesn't mean trusting you. Or choosing you. Or going back."
I swallowed.
"It just means I stopped hating you."
He exhaled, slow and unsteady, like he'd been holding his breath for years.
"That's… more than I deserve."
"Yes," I said. "It is."
Silence fell again.
Not hostile.
Not warm.
Just honest.
"I don't want to rush this," I added. "I don't want promises. I don't want pressure."
He nodded slowly.
"I won't touch what you're not ready to give."
I looked at him.
Really looked.
"But don't test me," I warned. "I'll walk away if you do."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"You always could."
I turned to leave.
"Jay," he said softly.
I paused but didn't turn.
"Thank you," he said. "For telling me the truth."
I didn't answer.
But I didn't run either.
I should have left.
That was the smart thing to do.
Instead, I turned back.
He was still there, standing exactly where I'd left him, like he hadn't trusted himself to move. His eyes lifted when he sensed me, something raw flashing through them before he masked it.
"What?" I asked quietly.
He didn't answer.
Just took one step toward me.
Then another.
"Keifer," I warned, even as my body forgot how to back away.
"I won't," he said, stopping inches away. "Not unless you let me."
The space between us was unbearable now.
I could feel his breath. Warm. Steady. Too familiar.
"You shouldn't be this close," I whispered.
"You didn't say stop," he replied just as softly.
My heart was racing. Every sensible thought drowned under the weight of eight years—of words unsaid, of apologies never spoken out loud.
"This doesn't mean anything," I said, like I was trying to convince myself.
"I know," he said. "I just—needed one moment."
His hand lifted slowly, not touching me yet, hovering near my cheek like he was giving me time to pull away.
I didn't.
His fingers brushed my skin—light, tentative—like he was afraid I'd disappear if he pressed too hard.
The contact sent a shiver through me.
"Jay," he murmured, my name breaking slightly in his mouth.
That was it.
I closed the distance myself.
The kiss was soft at first. Careful. Almost questioning.
Not claiming.
Not demanding.
Just… there.
Like he was asking, Is this still allowed?
My hand curled into the front of his jacket before I could stop myself.
And something in him snapped.
The kiss deepened—not rough, not rushed—but full. Real. Like every feeling he'd been holding back finally slipped through.
The world fell quiet.
No noise. No past. No future.
Just us.
When we pulled back, it was only because breathing became necessary again.
Our foreheads rested together.
His thumb brushed my cheek once, then stilled, like he didn't dare take more.
"I'm not asking you to come back," he said hoarsely. "Not tonight. Not tomorrow."
I swallowed.
"Then what are you asking?"
He met my eyes.
"Just… don't shut the door."
My chest tightened.
I didn't answer.
But I didn't step away either.
And that—
that was answer enough.