Success didn't arrive with fireworks.
It came quietly.
With exhaustion.
Jay sat on the edge of the bed, blazer discarded, hair loose, staring at nothing.
Her first day in the regional division had gone well.
Too well.
Which somehow made it worse.
Keifer noticed the silence before he noticed her.
"You didn't even complain," he said lightly, setting his keys down.
She didn't answer.
He walked closer.
"Jay?"
Her shoulders shook once.
Then again.
She covered her face.
And finally… she broke.
"I don't know how to do this," she whispered, voice cracking.
"They all look at me like I don't belong there."
Keifer sat in front of her, immediately.
Knees touching.
Hands gentle but firm on her wrists.
"You survived an entire life where no one listened to you," he said softly.
"A boardroom isn't scarier than that."
She laughed weakly through tears.
"They were testing me. Every word. Every decision."
"I know."
She looked up.
"How?"
"Because they test anyone they think might be strong," he replied.
Her breathing hitched.
"I was so scared I'd mess up," she admitted.
"And then I kept thinking—what if I prove my parents right?"
Keifer shook his head.
"No."
The word was calm.
Absolute.
"You already proved them wrong the moment you walked in."
Tears slid down her cheeks.
"I held it together all day," she whispered.
"I smiled. I nodded. I pretended."
He brushed a tear away with his thumb.
"You don't have to pretend here."
That was it.
Jay leaned forward suddenly.
Her forehead pressed into his chest.
Her hands fisted into his shirt.
And she cried.
Not quietly.
Not politely.
Keifer wrapped his arms around her without hesitation.
No advice.
No fixing.
Just presence.
He rested his chin on her head, holding her like she might shatter if he let go.
Minutes passed.
Maybe more.
Her sobs slowed.
Her breathing steadied.
She pulled back slightly, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry."
Keifer frowned.
"For what?"
"For being… this."
He tilted her face up gently.
"This is strength," he said.
"Not the version they taught you. The real one."
She sniffed.
"You don't get tired of me?"
He smiled softly.
"Jay… I get tired of the world."
Then quieter—
"Never of you."
Her eyes softened.
She touched his cheek.
Carefully.
Like she was still learning what she was allowed to do.
"I don't think anyone's ever let me fall apart like that."
Keifer leaned in.
Pressed his forehead to hers.
"I'll let you fall," he murmured.
"As long as you let me catch you."
Jay closed her eyes.
And for the first time,
she didn't feel like she had to be whole
to be loved.