The decision sat heavier than either of them expected.
Jay stared at the university notice on her phone, scrolling without really reading. Classes resumed in a week. Deadlines. Attendance. Life continuing, unapologetically normal.
Keifer watched her from across the room, already knowing what was going on in her head. "You're thinking we should postpone," he said gently.
"I'm thinking everyone will expect us to," she replied, finally looking up. "Married. Living here. Responsibilities. People talk."
He sat beside her, close enough that their knees touched. "Do you want to stop?"
She shook her head immediately. "No. I worked too hard to get there."
"Same," he said, without hesitation.
That evening, they walked into the drawing room together, nervous in a way that surprised them both. Their parents were already there—tea cups, books, the usual calm that somehow made everything feel more serious.
Jay's mother noticed their expressions instantly. "Sit," she said softly. "Whatever it is, you don't need to carry it alone."
Jay took a breath. "University starts again soon," she said. "We wanted to know… what you expect from us now."
There it was. The unspoken question finally voiced.
Keifer's father leaned back, studying them for a moment, then smiled—not amused, not stern. Just kind.
"Is that really what's been worrying you?"
Jay nodded. "Marriage changes things."
"Yes," Keifer's mother said gently. "But it doesn't end them."
Jay's mother reached across the table, placing her hand over Jay's. "You didn't get married to shrink your world."
Jay's throat tightened. "So… you're not expecting us to give it up?"
Keifer's father chuckled softly. "Give it up? Absolutely not. Education doesn't pause because you found love."
"And love," Jay's father added calmly, "isn't meant to replace your ambitions. It's meant to walk alongside them."
Keifer glanced at Jay, relief clear in his eyes.
Keifer's mother smiled at them both. "You'll go to university. You'll attend classes, argue about notes, complain about deadlines—just like before. The only difference is, now you come home to each other."
Jay let out a shaky laugh she hadn't realized she was holding in. "We were afraid you'd say it's irresponsible."
Jay's mother shook her head. "What would be irresponsible is asking you to stop becoming who you're meant to be."
Keifer's father nodded. "Marriage isn't a finish line. It's support. You build your lives—together and individually."
The room felt lighter, like a weight had quietly lifted.
Keifer straightened, confidence returning. "So… same university?"
"Same university," his father confirmed. "Same dreams."
Jay smiled, eyes shining. "Thank you."
Her mother stood, pulling her into a warm embrace. "We didn't raise you to choose between love and your future."
Later that night, back in their room, Jay sat cross-legged on the bed, laptop open again—but this time, she was actually reading.
Keifer leaned against the headboard, watching her. "Feel better?"
She nodded. "A lot."
He smiled softly. "Good. Because I refuse to let marriage be the reason you stop being brilliant."
She glanced at him, amused. "That goes both ways."
He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "University. Marriage. Life. We don't skip chapters—we live all of them."
Jay leaned into him, peaceful.
Outside, the mansion stood steady and quiet—but now it felt like a foundation, not a cage.
They weren't choosing between love and growth.
They were choosing both.