After the hospital visit, life didn't go back to normal.
It changed.
Completely.
Keifer became quiet in a different way—not distant, not cold—but alert. Every sound, every movement around Jay seemed to pull his attention instantly.
At home, Jay noticed it first.
"Sit," Keifer said softly one morning, placing a cushion behind her lower back.
Jay smiled. "I was already sitting."
"Still," he replied calmly, adjusting it. "Comfort matters."
He brought her water without being asked. Checked if she'd eaten. Reminded her gently to rest.
At first, it felt sweet.
Then… it felt overwhelming.
At the office, things were even more obvious.
Keifer had her desk shifted permanently into his cabin. Official reason: coordination.
Unofficial truth: he needed to see her.
No one questioned it.
No one dared.
Jay stood up once to grab files from another desk.
Keifer's voice cut through the floor, controlled but firm.
"Why are you standing?"
Jay froze. "I just—"
"Call someone," he said. "You don't need to walk."
The entire office went silent.
Jay felt heat rush to her face.
Later, inside the cabin, she finally spoke.
"Keifer," she said softly, "I'm pregnant… not fragile glass."
He turned toward her immediately, guilt flickering across his face.
"I know," he said. "But I don't know how to not worry."
Jay sighed and sat down slowly. "You're trying to protect me so hard that I feel like I'm disappearing."
That hit him.
Hard.
He knelt beside her chair, his voice low. "That's the last thing I want."
Jay's eyes filled unexpectedly. "Everything happened so fast. Wedding. Family. Pregnancy. Sometimes I wake up scared."
Keifer took her hands. "Scared of what?"
"That I'll ruin this," she whispered. "That I'll disappoint everyone again."
Keifer's jaw tightened—not in anger, but pain.
"You didn't create problems," he said firmly. "Life happened. And you survived it."
Jay shook her head, tears falling. "But now everyone expects me to be happy all the time."
Keifer gently pulled her into his arms. He didn't rush her. Didn't interrupt.
Just stayed.
"You don't have to be strong," he said quietly. "Not with me. Not ever."
Jay cried then—softly, fully—her forehead resting against his shoulder.
"I don't even recognize myself," she admitted. "One moment I'm excited… the next I'm scared."
Keifer kissed her hair gently. "That doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."
At home that night, Jay sat on the bed, unusually quiet.
Keifer noticed immediately.
"What's going on in that mind?" he asked softly.
Jay hesitated. "What if I'm not ready to be a mother?"
Keifer sat beside her. "No one is."
She looked at him. "What if I fail?"
He met her eyes. "Then we learn. Together."
Jay leaned into him slowly, finally letting herself relax.
"I don't want to lose myself," she whispered.
Keifer wrapped his arms around her. "Then don't. I didn't fall in love with a perfect version of you. I fell in love with you."
Jay closed her eyes.
For the first time since the news, her chest felt lighter.
She wasn't alone in this.
She didn't have to carry everything herself.
And Keifer—bossy, protective, intense Keifer—was learning too.
Learning how to love her without caging her.
Learning how to protect without overpowering.
And Jay, slowly, was learning that it was okay to be scared…
…while still being happy.
The office didn't stay quiet for long after Jay's pregnancy became known.
Whispers started first.
Low voices. Side glances. Half-smiles that didn't reach the eyes.
"She collapsed and now suddenly she's pregnant?"
"No wonder the CEO treats her differently."
"Luck really favors some people."
Jay heard them.
She always did.
She didn't react. She kept her head down, focused on her screen, pretending the words didn't reach her. But her hands trembled slightly on the keyboard.
Keifer noticed.
He always noticed.
That afternoon, he walked out of his cabin and stopped right in the middle of the office floor. His presence alone was enough to silence everyone.
"I don't know who needs to hear this," he said calmly, his voice firm and controlled, "but my wife does not need anyone's opinions, assumptions, or conversations."
No one breathed.
"She works here because she earned it," he continued. "And from today onward, any personal commentary about her—direct or indirect—will be treated as misconduct."
His eyes swept the room.
"Am I clear?"
A collective nod followed.
Jay stared at him, stunned.
Keifer didn't look at her. He simply turned and went back into his cabin like nothing had happened.
But from that day on, the whispers stopped.
That evening, Sarina and Keizer arrived at Keifer's house.
Jay was surprised to see their luggage.
Sarina held Jay's hands immediately, worry written all over her face. "You fainted at work. You were still working like nothing changed."
Jay tried to smile. "I'm okay, really—"
"No," Keizer said gently but firmly. "You are pregnant."
Keifer stood beside Jay, already knowing what was coming.
"We're staying here," Sarina added. "With you."
Jay blinked. "You don't have to—"
"We want to," Keizer said. "This is family."
That night, after dinner, Sarina sat beside Jay on the couch.
"You won't be going to the office anymore," she said softly.
Jay stiffened. "What?"
Sarina smiled kindly but didn't budge. "You need rest. Not pressure."
Jay looked at Keifer immediately. "You didn't tell me about this."
Keifer met her eyes, serious but gentle. "Because I wanted us to decide together."
Jay swallowed. "I don't want to feel useless."
Keifer moved closer and took her hand. "You are growing our child. That is not useless."
Keizer nodded. "Work can wait. Health cannot."
Jay hesitated… then slowly nodded.
"Okay," she whispered.
The decision was made.
Jay quit the office the next morning.
From that day onward, Keifer changed.
Again.
He walked slower when she walked.
Held her arm even when she insisted she didn't need help.
Watched her eat. Watched her sleep. Watched her breathe.
"Keifer," Jay sighed one afternoon, "I can climb stairs."
"I know," he replied. "I'll still walk behind you."
She laughed softly. "You're acting like I'll disappear."
His voice dropped. "I'm acting like I can't afford to lose you."
That shut her up.
At night, if she shifted even slightly in bed, Keifer woke up.
"Are you okay?"
"Do you feel dizzy?"
"Do you need water?"
One night, Jay finally turned toward him and placed her hand on his chest.
"I'm safe," she said softly. "You don't have to guard me every second."
Keifer closed his eyes for a moment. "I know. But until I hear our baby cry… I don't think I'll ever stop worrying."
Jay's eyes softened.
She hugged him gently. "Then worry with love. Not fear."
Keifer pulled her closer, careful, protective, grounding himself in her presence.
With Sarina fussing over food, Keizer checking in quietly, and Keifer surrounding her like a shield, Jay slowly began to understand something important—
She wasn't a burden.
She was cherished.
And this family wasn't just protecting her body…
They were protecting her heart.
The hospital room was dim, quiet, and calm.
Jay lay on the bed, fingers gripping the edge of the sheet. Her heart was racing—not from fear, but from anticipation.
Keifer stood beside her, one hand resting gently on her shoulder, the other holding her fingers tightly like an anchor.
Sarina sat near the bed, her eyes fixed on Jay with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Keizer stood silently behind Keifer, his presence steady and protective.
The doctor entered with a soft smile. "Ready?"
Jay nodded slowly. "Yes."
Keifer leaned closer and whispered, "I'm right here."
The screen flickered to life.
At first, Jay didn't understand what she was seeing. Shapes, shadows, movement.
Then the doctor spoke.
"There," she said gently, pointing. "That's your baby."
Jay's breath caught.
Keifer froze.
The room went silent.
Then came the sound.
Soft. Fast. Real.
A heartbeat.
Jay's eyes widened as tears streamed down her cheeks. "That… that's real?"
The doctor smiled. "Very real."
Keifer's knees felt weak. He instinctively leaned closer to the screen, his eyes locked on that tiny flicker of life.
"That's… ours," he whispered, his voice breaking.
Jay turned her head toward him, crying openly now. "We made that."
Keifer nodded, unable to speak for a moment. His hand slid carefully to her stomach, reverent, almost trembling.
Sarina pressed her hand to her mouth, tears falling freely. "Oh my God…"
Keizer cleared his throat, emotion heavy in his eyes. "I can hear it."
The doctor adjusted a few things and continued explaining gently, but Jay barely heard her.
All she could focus on was the sound.
That tiny heartbeat.
Proof that she wasn't just dreaming.
Keifer finally looked at Jay. His eyes were red, filled with wonder and fear and overwhelming love all at once.
"I don't think I've ever been this scared… or this happy," he admitted softly.
Jay reached for his hand. "Me too."
The doctor smiled. "Everything looks healthy so far. It's still early, but you're doing well."
Keifer nodded immediately. "She'll rest. I'll make sure."
Jay smiled faintly. "You already are."
When the ultrasound ended, Keifer helped Jay sit up carefully, like she was something precious and fragile.
As they stepped out of the room, Jay suddenly stopped and looked at him.
"Keifer," she said quietly.
He turned instantly. "Yes?"
She placed his hand over her stomach again. "There's a life there… because of us."
Keifer swallowed hard and pulled her into a careful embrace. "I promise," he whispered, "this baby will never feel alone. Neither will you."
Jay closed her eyes, resting against him.
For the first time, she didn't feel scared of the future.
She felt ready.
Because now, it wasn't just love holding her together—
It was family.