Jays POV
The steam had finally begun to dissipate by the time Keifer carried me out of the bathroom, my legs feeling like overcooked noodles. He didn't just set me down; he placed me on the edge of the bed with a tenderness that made me feel fragile, yet utterly cherished.
I sat there, blinking sleepily, as Keifer grabbed my clothes. He didn't just hand them to me. He knelt between my knees, sliding my undergarments on first, then pulling a soft oversized tee over my head.
He handled me like a porcelain doll, or perhaps a sleepy child, lifting my arms to poke them through the sleeves. I leaned my forehead against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his soap and the lingering heat of the shower.
"You're being very helpful, Hubby," I murmured, my voice still raspy.
"You're exhausted, Jay. Let me take care of you," he whispered. He gently guided me to lay back against the pillows and then took my right leg, resting it on his lap. His large hands began to massage my calf, his thumbs digging into the knots with just the right amount of pressure.
I let out a long, shuddering breath, my eyes fluttering shut. Every muscle that had been tight with tension or exertion began to melt under his touch. It was pure bliss—until the sharp buzz-buzz of my phone on the
nightstand broke the silence.
I groaned, reaching out blindly. It was a work notification—an urgent thread that needed my sign-off. "Keif... can you pass me the laptop? It's on the desk."
He frowned slightly, clearly wanting me to rest, but he complied. He set the laptop over my lap but didn't stop the massage.
As I started typing out a response and hitting 'send' on a series of emails, I felt his hands wander.
The massage moved from my calf to my knee, and then his palms began to slide up my inner thigh. I tried to focus on the screen, but the heat of his touch was a massive distraction.
"Keifer... what are you doing?" I asked, my breath hitching as his thumb pressed firmly into the sensitive skin high up on my leg.
"Just making sure you're thoroughly relaxed," he murmured, his eyes dark with a renewed spark of mischief.
"Keiferrrr..." I gasped as he squeezed, his hand sliding further up, the tips of his fingers brushing the hem of my shorts.
My heart, which had just slowed down, began to gallop again. The laptop was forgotten on my lap; my breath was hitching in my throat. His hand was inches away from sliding beneath the fabric when my phone erupted into a loud, jarring ring.
The caller ID flashed: Mom.
The mood shattered instantly. I placed my hand over Keifer's, stopping his progress. He let out a frustrated huff but leaned back, giving me space.
"Hey, Mom?" I answered, my voice still slightly breathless.
"Jay, you need to come home. Now," she said. Her voice wasn't angry—it was heavy. Serious. "Your father and I need to talk to you. Please, don't dawdle."
"I'm on my way," I said, my stomach dropping. I looked at Keifer, and he didn't need to be told. He was already reaching for his keys.
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Keifer's POV
The atmosphere at Strong was thick enough to cut with a knife. As soon as we stepped through the front door, I saw Jay's parents sitting on the sofa, their backs stiff, their faces etched with a grim solemnity I hadn't seen before.
Jay walked toward them, her posture shifting from the relaxed girl she was in my arms to the guarded woman she had to be here. I followed behind, but as the conversation began, I sensed it was a family matter.
I drifted toward the dining table where Cin was sitting, trying to keep a low profile while staying close enough to protect Jay if needed.
The rest of the group—Section E, the girls, z Mom Serina, Dad Keizer, Keiren, Keigan, and Aion—were scattered nearby, sensing the tension.
I was quietly talking to Yuri about some logistical matters when the sound of shattering glass pierced through the room like a gunshot.
CRASH.
I spun around. Jay was standing by the side table, her face pale, her eyes blazing with a cold, flickering fury. A glass vase lay in pieces at her feet, and blood was beginning to bloom across her palm, dripping onto the white rug.
"Jay!" I shouted, sprinting across the room.
"What happened?" Dad asked, the whole group crowding around.
Jay didn't even look at her hand. She was staring straight at her father. Her voice was a low, dangerous hiss. "Dad, do whatever you want. Avoid how you can. But they shouldn't step a foot here. Not today , tomorrow or ever after."
"Jay, please, meet them at least once," her mother pleaded, her hands trembling. "They're family."
Jay exhaled, a sharp, jagged sound. The anger seemed to drain out of her, replaced by a weary, hollow shell. She looked at the floor, then back at her mother. "Fine. Tomorrow at 10. One hour. That's all they get."
I reached her side, gently taking her injured hand in mine. "Let's get you cleaned up," I whispered. I led her to the couch, ignoring the heavy silence of her parents.
I grabbed the first-aid kit, carefully picking out the small shards of glass and cleaning the wound. She didn't flinch. She just stared into space.
"Jay, talk to me," I murmured as I began to wrap the bandage. "What's going on?"
She pulled her hand back as soon as I was done. "I have some work to finish. I'm going to stay at the apartment tonight. I'll come directly here tomorrow at 10."
"I'll go with you," I said firmly.
"No," she said, her voice soft but final. "I need space, Keifer. Please."
It hurt to let her go, but I saw the look in her eyes. It wasn't about me; she was fighting a ghost I didn't recognize yet. I watched her walk out, the front door clicking shut behind her.
Her parents walked over, looking older than they had an hour ago.
"What happened?" Mom asked them, his voice echoing my own confusion. "Who is coming tomorrow?"
"Jay's grandparents," her father replied, rubbing his temples. "They want to meet her. They haven't seen her in years."
"And she doesn't want to see them?" Felix asked, leaning against the doorframe. "Usually, people are happy to see their grandparents."
"Yeah, I lovey grandparents too",Cin said.
Jay's mother sighed, looking toward the door Jay had just exited. "We don't know why. When she was young, she loved going to their estate. She used to beg to visit. But years ago, after we came back from the trip there... she changed. She started avoiding them. She wouldn't even say their names."
I looked at the bloodstains on the rug and the bandage I'd just applied. A summer trip. A sudden change. There was a reason Jay was willing to bleed rather than let those people into her space.
"She's not avoiding them because she's busy," I muttered to myself, my jaw tightening. "There's a reason she's terrified."
And I was going to find out what it was before 10:00 AM tomorrow.
A/n
Guys so what do you all think is the reason for jay avoiding them??
Let me know in comments...
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Bye 👋😘