Jay pov
had been a week since Keifer left for London, and every day since then had been torturous. I tried to keep myself busy at Kuya Angelo's house, helping with Kieran and Kiegan, doing chores, reading, anything to distract myself. But nothing could drown out the constant ache in my chest, the gnawing worry about him. My mind refused to stop imagining the worst-case scenarios, even though I kept telling myself he was the strongest man I knew.
When Angelo finally returned home, I ran toward him the moment I saw him walking through the door. My heart was pounding in my chest, every step a desperate plea for answers.
Me (voice trembling, clutching his arm): "Angelo… where is Keifer? Did he come with you? Tell me he's safe!"
Angelo's face was unusually serious, and his eyes held a weight I hadn't seen before. My stomach sank.
Kuya Angelo: "Jay… I need to tell you the truth."
Something in his voice made my heart skip, and a cold fear ran down my spine.
Me (voice rising slightly, panicked): "What truth? Angelo… tell me, please…"
Kuya Angelo (gently): "Keifer didn't come with me. He went alone to London."
The words hit me like a hammer to my chest. I froze, my knees weak, my hands trembling uncontrollably. I could feel the air being sucked out of the room.
Me (stammering, tears forming in my eyes): "He… he went alone? Alone? How… how could this happen? I… I can't… I can't…!"
I sank to my knees, my hands clutching my face as the tears finally fell freely. The panic I had tried to suppress for a week exploded all at once.
Kuya Angelo (kneeling beside me, trying to calm me): "Jay… please, listen. I stayed behind to make sure you and the boys were safe. You didn't need to worry while he handled the situation. This was the only way to keep you calm."
I shook my head violently, sobs choking me. "Calm? How can anyone be calm knowing he's alone… fighting… and I can't be there? I can't just sit here while he's in danger!"
In my desperation, I called for Kieran and Kiegan. Within minutes, they arrived at the house, looking worried and anxious. The sight of them brought another wave of emotion crashing down on me. I dropped to my knees and pulled them both into a tight embrace.
Me (holding them tightly, tears flowing freely): "Oh my babies… come here… tell me what happened… please, Kiegan, what's going on with Keifer?"
Kiegan (voice small, shaking): "M-Mama… Kuya Keifer… he fought… he… he won… but he got really hurt. He's lying in bed in London… he's not awake… he's… unconscious."
My heart stopped. My breath hitched. I felt the room spin around me, and for a moment, I couldn't think, couldn't move. My legs gave way, and I fell back slightly, still holding my brothers. The thought of Keifer—my Keifer—fighting, wounded, alone, and unconscious… it was unbearable.
Me (sobbing, gripping them both): "No… no… this can't be real. My Keifer… he… he's lying there and I'm not there? I should be there… I have to be there!"
Kuya Angelo placed a hand gently on my shoulder. "Jay… I know you want to go immediately, but you need to stay calm. We'll make arrangements… you can get to him safely. I promise."
But I couldn't stay calm. I shook my head violently, tears soaking my hair and cheeks. "I can't wait any longer, Angelo! I can't sit here while he's hurt… I have to go to him! I need to be with him!"
Kuya Angelo (nodding, firm but understanding): "Alright. We'll leave immediately. I'll arrange everything—travel, accommodations, security. You're going to London, Jay. And you're going to be there with him."
The moment he said that, a flicker of hope sparked in my chest. I clutched Kieran and Kiegan one last time, feeling the weight of their tiny arms around me, and whispered to them, "Take care of each other while I'm gone, okay? Stay strong…"
I turned toward Kuya Angelo, determination in my eyes despite the tears still falling down my cheeks. "Let's go. I have to see him. I have to be by his side. I can't stay here any longer. He… he needs me."
As I followed Angelo to prepare for the trip, my mind was a storm of emotions—fear, love, panic, and determination. I couldn't let the distance stop me. I couldn't let Keifer face this alone. I knew I had to reach him, and I promised myself silently, over and over: I will not let him fight alone. I'm coming. I'm coming for you, Keifer… I swear.
Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity as I prepared to leave. But I held onto that one promise, that unwavering determination. I would get to him. I would hold him. And I would not let anything—no distance, no danger—keep me from being at his side.
The plane ride to London had felt like the longest journey of my life. Every mile, every cloud outside the window, made my heart pound harder. I couldn't stop thinking about him—Keifer. I had to see him. I needed to know he was alive. I needed to touch him, hear him, see that stubborn, determined expression on his face, even if he was unconscious.
When we finally arrived in London, the drive to the hospital felt like a blur. Kuya Angelo had organized everything with his usual efficiency, but my mind was spinning. I kept imagining the worst, picturing Keifer lying there, injured, struggling, his life hanging by a thread.
We entered the hospital, the sterile smell immediately hitting me, making me feel even more panicked. I clutched Kieran and Kiegan's hands as we were directed down the long corridor to the ICU. My heart was in my throat.
And then… I saw him.
Keifer.
Lying lifeless in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, tubes running into him. His face, pale and strained, was the same face I knew and loved, but it looked fragile, almost unreal. My breath caught, and I froze for a moment, staring at him, unable to move, unable to breathe.
Me (whispering, voice breaking): "Keifer… no… please… wake up… please…"
I tried to reach for him, but my hands trembled uncontrollably. My knees felt weak, and I had to steady myself against the side of the bed. Kieran and Kiegan huddled close, their small faces pale, eyes wide. They didn't fully understand, but they knew something was wrong.
A doctor walked in, clipboard in hand, scanning the monitors. He looked at me, and his expression was serious, almost grim.
Doctor: "Who is Mrs. Watson?"
I stepped forward, trying to steady my voice, though it shook uncontrollably.
Me: "I… I am. He's my husband. Please… tell me he's going to be okay…"
The doctor hesitated, looking at me with professional concern, and my heart sank at the pause.
Doctor: "He has a severe injury. Right now, he's unconscious. We can't say when—or even if—he will regain consciousness. It could be days, weeks, months… possibly longer. We'll have to wait and monitor him very closely."
My heart felt like it had been ripped out of my chest. I stumbled back, my hands clutching at my hair.
Me (voice trembling, almost screaming): "Days… weeks… months… what do you mean? He can't… he's Keifer… he can't…"
The doctor sighed and continued, his words cutting through me like a knife.
Doctor: "There's more… I have to be honest. Even if he regains consciousness, we cannot guarantee that his memory will be intact. Severe injuries like his sometimes affect memory retention. We have to prepare for that possibility as well."
The words hit me like a tidal wave. I felt my knees give out completely this time, and I collapsed into the chair beside the bed, holding Kieran and Kiegan close. My chest heaved with sobs, tears streaming down uncontrollably.
Me (choking through my tears, shaking my head): "No… no… this can't happen… he can't forget… he can't… not him… not Keifer…"
I buried my face into Kieran's small shoulder, my body shaking with grief. Kiegan's tiny hand rested on my arm, comforting me in the way only a child could, innocent yet painfully aware that something terrible had happened.
Kuya Angelo stepped forward, wrapping his arms around us, trying to ground me.
Kuya Angelo (gently): "Jay… stay calm. He's alive, and that's what matters. Right now, he's stable, and that's our first priority. We'll be here for him. You're not alone."
I felt Kieran and Kiegan's small bodies leaning into me, and I couldn't hold back anymore. My cries grew louder, a raw, broken sound of fear, grief, and desperation. I didn't care who saw me. I just needed to release the pain that had been building inside me for the past week.
The nurses and staff tried to console me gently, and Kuya Angelo whispered reassurances over and over, but the fear in my heart didn't ease. Every beep of the monitors, every movement of the machines seemed to echo the fragility of his condition.
Me (thinking, sobbing): Keifer… please… wake up… I don't care what it takes… I'll be here… I'll never leave… please… come back to me…
Minutes felt like hours as I sat there beside him, holding my brothers close, my mind racing with the possibility of losing him, or worse, losing pieces of him. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could do was stay by his side, praying, crying, and hoping that my Keifer—the strongest, most stubborn man I had ever known—would fight his way back to me.
And in that moment, surrounded by the sterile lights, the machines, and the fear, I made a silent vow: I would not leave him. Not for a second. I would stay, wait, and fight alongside him, until the moment he opened his eyes and smiled at me again.