was a normal evening at the house.
Jay sat beside Keifer on the couch, feeling relaxed.
Everyone else was scattered around—laughing, talking, helping in the kitchen.
Then Ivy leaned in.
It was casual. Friendly. Playful.
But when she kissed Keifer on the cheek…
Jay's heart stopped.
Not a playful kiss.
Not a fleeting peck.
It lingered just enough for Jay to notice.
Keifer didn't react.
Not a twitch.
Not a smile.
Not even a glance.
Jay froze.
Her chest tightened.
A hollow ache spread through her, sharp and quiet.
"Keifer…?" she whispered softly, almost to herself.
He didn't answer.
He didn't look at her.
He just sat there, calm, as if nothing had happened.
Jay felt a cold twist in her stomach.
She had always been beside him.
She had always been close.
And yet, Ivy's simple gesture made her feel… invisible.
Her fingers curled into her lap.
Her lips trembled.
Her eyes burned.
She wanted to speak, to say something, to claim a little space in his world—but she didn't.
Keifer finally glanced at her, not with warmth, not with apology, just… neutral.
"Jay," he said softly, "don't take it personally. It wasn't meant to—"
But she couldn't hear him.
All she felt was the sting of Ivy's closeness.
The casual way Keifer let it happen.
She shifted slightly, pulling back, keeping her gaze down.
Her heart ached quietly, breaking in a way no words could fix.
Being near him had never felt so heavy.
Being beside him had never felt so fragile.
And in that moment, Jay realized—sometimes even the person you're closest to could make you feel completely unseen.
She stayed there silently, heart pounding, while Ivy chattered happily beside him.
Keifer remained calm, unaware—or maybe unconcerned—about the storm inside Jay's chest.
And Jay knew, deep down, she couldn't let this feeling go unnoticed.