The moment they heard Jay's soft footsteps returning, Keifer and Sophia scrambled back into position.
Sophia slipped behind the window, her heart racing, while Keifer slumped back onto the edge of the bed, his eyes half-closed, perfectly mimicking the heavy, glazed look of a man lost in a stupor.
Jay entered carrying a small tray. The steam from a bowl of soup rose into the air, carrying a scent of home that felt at odds with the tension in the room.
She set the tray on the nightstand and turned to him. Her eyes were still puffy, but the frantic terror from earlier had settled into a quiet, focused devotion.
"Keifer," she whispered, her voice like silk over gravel. "Lean back. You'll hurt your neck like that."
She placed a hand on his shoulder—it was light, hesitant—and gently guided him until his back was resting against the plush headboard.
Keifer let her move him, playing the part of the limp, uncoordinated drunk, but inside, every nerve was on fire.
He could feel the slight tremble in her fingers. He could see the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering.
She sat on the edge of the mattress, blew softly on a spoonful of soup, and held it to his lips. "Eat. Please. It will help your head."
Keifer took the food, his eyes locked onto hers. He saw the exhaustion etched into the fine lines around her eyes. "Did you... did you eat?" he mured, his voice thick and slurred.
"Yes," she lied immediately, giving him a small, ghost of a smile. "I ate downstairs. Don't worry about me."
Keifer knew it was a lie. He knew she hadn't touched a thing since she'd found him.
Without a word, he reached out, his hand clumsy but determined, and caught the spoon.
He guided it back toward her mouth.
Jay froze, her breath catching. "Keifer, no, you need it—"
"Eat," he insisted, his voice a low, stubborn rumble.
In the dim light, they sat there, a broken man and a shattered girl, feeding each other in a rhythmic, heartbreaking dance.
Behind the window, Sophia watched them, a tear rolling down her cheek.
She realized then that they were no longer just a husband and wife by contract; they were two wounded souls finally trying to heal.
Satisfied that Keifer was in the best possible hands, she ghosted out of the room and back to her own, a small, hopeful smile touching her lips.
Once the tray was empty, Jay set it aside. "It's late," she said softly, reaching for the lamp. "You need to sleep, Keifer. The morning will be hard."
"No," he groaned, his hand shooting out to catch her wrist.
He looked up at her, his expression a mix of feigned confusion and very real longing. "Don't go. Not yet."
"I'm right here," she promised.
"Hug me?" he asked. It was a simple request, but in the context of their cold, distant marriage, it was a revolution.
Jay hesitated for only a heartbeat. Then, she leaned into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and Keifer pulled her tight against him, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
He inhaled the scent of her—vanilla and something cold, like winter air. He leaned back and pressed a long, lingering kiss to the top of her head.
Jay let out a long, shaky exhale, as if she had been holding her breath for ten years.
She let her head sink onto his chest, listening to the steady, rhythmic thud of his heart.
She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of him seep into her bones, drowning out the memories of the dark house and the red river on the floor.
For this one moment, she wasn't a survivor. She was just a girl who was being held.
After a long time, she gently pulled apart. She didn't leave, though. She slid down until she was sitting right beside him, and with a soft tug, she pulled his head down until it rested on her shoulder.
"Sleep now," she whispered.
She began to run her fingers through his hair, her touch steady and rhythmic.
It was the same way she used to comfort her mother, a motion of pure, selfless love.
Keifer closed his eyes, intending to keep up the act, but the rhythmic stroking of her hand was like a sedative.
The weight of the day, the horror of the diary, and the relief of having her in his arms finally took their toll.
Before he could even realize he was fading, the Golden Boy drifted into the first peaceful sleep he'd had in months, cradled by the very girl he had promised to protect.
____________________
The soft morning light crept through the curtains, turning the room a dusty gold.
Keifer woke up slowly. Usually, he woke up feeling lonely in the big bed, but today was different.
He felt a soft, steady thudding against his ear—a heartbeat.
He opened his eyes just a crack and froze.
He was still on the bed, but he wasn't alone. Jay was sitting up, her back leaning against the hard wood of the bed-stand.
She had stayed like that all night, acting as his pillow. His head was resting right on her chest, her arms wrap around his neck and his arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her close.
Keifer felt a sudden wave of shyness. He was the "Golden Boy" who everyone liked, but he had never been this close to a girl before.
He had never felt someone's heart beating under his ear or felt the warmth of another person's body like this.
It felt strange, but it also felt like home.
He moved just a little bit, shifting his weight so she wouldn't be so uncomfortable against the bed-stand.
He pulled her a little more onto his own chest and closed his eyes again.
He wasn't sleepy anymore, but he didn't want to let go.
A few minutes later, he felt Jay stir.
He felt her body go stiff for a second. It was her habit—waking up expecting a nightmare.
But then, she seemed to realize where she was. He felt her muscles relax. She took a long, shaky breath and leaned into him.
She stayed there for a while, just enjoying the warmth.
Keifer kept his eyes shut. He breathed slowly, pretending to be deep in sleep.
He felt her move. Her small, cold fingers touched his cheek. It was a tiny movement, but it felt like a spark of electricity to him.
Then, she leaned her head down. He felt her soft lips press a long, gentle kiss right onto his forehead.
The kiss sent a shock through his whole body. It was hard to keep his eyes closed. It was hard to keep his breathing steady.
Slowly, she began to move away. She untangled his arms from her waist, being careful not to wake him.
She slid off the bed, her feet hitting the carpet with a soft thud. Before she turned toward the bathroom, she stopped. She looked at his face one last time and whispered so quietly he almost missed it:
"I hope you don't remember what happened last night."
Then, she turned and hurried into the washroom, clicking the door shut behind her.
Keifer snapped his eyes open the moment she was gone. He stared at the ceiling, his hand going up to touch the spot on his forehead where she had kissed him. His heart was thumping wildly against his ribs.
"I'll never forget," he whispered to the empty room, a small smile finally breaking through.