(Jay's POV)
I woke up on our last morning in the Philippines with a perfectly smooth face. The moon map was gone. The bright pink hives were gone. Baby Amara's mutant drool had finally lost its power. I looked in the mirror, did a little victory dance, and yelled, "Keifer! Look! I am beautiful again!"
Keifer walked into the room, looking like he had just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. He stared at my face for a long time. Then he tapped my nose. "Good. Now we can fly back to London without the airport security thinking you are carrying an alien virus."
Of course, flying back to London with Keifer did not mean cramped seats and fighting over a tiny bag of peanuts. No, Keifer has billionaire habits. He acts like economy class is a myth invented to scare children.
We flew business class. The seats were bigger than my actual bed at Angelo's house. As soon as we sat down, a flight attendant offered us drinks. Keifer asked for sparkling water with a twist of lime. I asked for three bags of those fancy roasted nuts and an extra blanket.
While Keifer spent the fifteen-hour flight reading serious business magazines and looking effortlessly rich, I fully abused the business class system. I pushed every single button on my seat. I made it go fully flat. I made it massage my back. I watched three cartoons back-to-back. Every time a flight attendant walked past, I asked for more snacks.
"Jay," Keifer whispered, leaning over from his private pod. "If you eat any more salt, your face will puff up again before we hit the UK airspace."
"This is premium airline salt, Keifer," I said, stuffing a chocolate-covered pretzel into my mouth. "It is good for my soul."
By the time the plane landed in London, the weather hit us like a slap in the face. We left the beautiful, warm Philippines and arrived in cloudy, freezing, grey London. My skin immediately felt the betrayal.
We drove to our London house. It is a beautiful place, mostly because Keifer likes things clean and expensive. I dropped my heavy bags right in the middle of the hallway. Keifer sighed , chuckled and picked them up. I threw myself onto the giant sofa.
"Jet lag is hitting me," I groaned into a pillow. "I feel like a deflated balloon."
"Go to sleep wifey," Keifer said, setting our shoes perfectly in the closet. "We have university tomorrow morning. No excuses."
The next morning, my alarm clock shrieked at 7:00 AM. It felt like a crime. I dragged myself out of bed. My eyes were barely open as I brushed my teeth. I looked at Keifer. He was already fully dressed, his hair perfectly styled, smelling like expensive cedarwood and success. It was disgusting. Nobody should look that good at 7:00 AM on a rainy Monday in London.
"How do you do that?" I complained, pointing my toothbrush at him. "You did not even drink coffee yet. Why do your clothes have zero wrinkles?"
He smiled, that stupidly handsome smile. "It is a gift, Jay. Now hurry up, or we will miss the first lecture."
Getting ready was a race against time. I threw on a giant, comfy hoodie and jeans. We stepped out into the cold London air and made our way to campus.The university was exactly how we left it. The buildings were old and grey, the grass was wet, and hundreds of students were walking around looking like zombies. We blended right in. Well, I blended in. Keifer looked like a movie star who accidentally walked onto a university campus.
Our first lecture was two hours long. The professor spoke in a very low, flat voice. It sounded like a lullaby. Within twenty minutes, my head started to nod. I closed my eyes for just one second.
Bam!
Keifer gently nudged my elbow with his pen. "Stay awake, Jay. He is looking right at you."
"I am awake," I lied, blinking wildly. "I am just processing the information with my eyes closed."
Stay awake Jay ! This isn't how a 2nd rank holder behaves.
The rest of the day was a test of human survival. We walked from one building to another. The London wind was trying its best to freeze my ears off. We sat through another lecture about deep research methods. My brain felt like hot mush. By 3:00 PM, all I could think about was my bed. I did not care about business. I did not care about my degree. I only cared about sleep.
Finally, the last bell rang. We were free. We drove back to home.
The moment Keifer unlocked the front door of our house, I did not even take off my shoes properly. I kicked them off into the air. One shoe hit the wall. The other shoe landed near the kitchen. I did not care.
I walked straight to the living room and face-planted onto the sofa. I did not move. I did not breathe loud. I was just a lump of tired student.
Keifer walked in a few seconds later. He took off his coat neatly, hung it up, and then walked over to the sofa. He looked down at me. For the first time all day, his hair was a tiny bit messy. He let out a long, heavy sigh.
Without saying a word, he dropped his bag on the floor and collapsed right next to me on the sofa. He threw his arm over his eyes.
"I am dead," Keifer muttered.
"Me too," I mumbled into the cushions. "University is a trap. Let's move back to the beach."
We lay there in total silence, completely exhausted, waiting for our brains to turn back on.
My brain was empty from the long business-class flight and the two-hour university lecture. My legs felt like they were filled with heavy wet cement. But suddenly, a tiny spark of life woke up deep inside my stomach. It was not a spark of energy. It was a spark of pure, raw hunger.
My body did not want salad. My body did not want water. My body decided, with absolute certainty, that it needed something sweet, crunchy, and highly unhealthy. I needed snacks. I needed them immediately.
I looked over at Keifer. He was still lying next to me with his arm over his eyes, breathing softly. He looked like a beautiful, sleeping prince who did not need food to survive. He probably lived off high-end air and expensive cologne.
"I must move," I whispered to myself.
I gathered all the strength in my young bones. I rolled off the sofa and landed on the carpet with a soft thud. I did not care about looking graceful. Because I know I am beautiful in every possible way!
I dragged my body up and made my way toward the kitchen like a zombie looking for brains.Our kitchen is very modern, very white, and very clean. Keifer likes it that way. But I knew a secret. Hidden in the highest cabinet, behind the organic green tea and the fancy oats, was Keifer's secret emergency stash. He always kept five to six large packets of British crisps and chips there, just in case a real emergency happened. The emergency was Jay's uncontrollable hunger! Well, in my mind, a loud stomach at 6:00 PM on a Monday was a national emergency.
I stood on my tiptoes. I stretched my arms as far as they could go. My fingers brushed against the smooth plastic of the bags. Crinkle, crinkle. The sound was like music to my ears. I pulled down one packet. Then another. Then another. I did not stop until I had five to six packets of chips cradled in my arms like precious, plastic babies. There were salt and vinegar chips, smoky barbecue chips, and sour cream and onion chips. It was a beautiful collection.
I marched back into the living room, feeling like a victorious queen. I dropped the heavy pile of packets onto the coffee table with a loud smack.
The noise woke Keifer up. He lifted his arm from his eyes, blinked his long eyelashes, and stared at the mountain of junk food in front of me. He looked at the chips. Then he looked at my face.
"Jay," he said, his voice deep and smooth from sleep. "Are we hosting a party for the entire university campus tonight?"
"No," I said proudly, tearing open the first packet of salt and vinegar chips with my teeth. "This is just my afternoon tea. Do you want to join my party of one?"
Keifer let out a soft laugh and sat up. Even after a long nap, his clothes had zero wrinkles. It was completely unfair. He looked at the messy mountain of snacks and shook his head, but his eyes were full of amusement.
"Since we are both too exhausted to do anything useful, let's put on a movie," Keifer suggested. He reached for the remote control. "A little refreshment will help our brains turn back on."
"Excellent idea, Mr. Billionaire," I mumbled, my mouth already full of crunchy chips.
Keifer scrolled through the movie options and picked a fun action film. As the movie started, the living room became cozy. The room was dark, the TV screen was bright, and the only sound was the actors speaking and me crunching at maximum volume.
After a few minutes, Keifer looked at the packets. He decided he wanted a little taste too. He reached his long, elegant hand into one of the bags. But he did not eat like me. I eat chips by the handful, stuffing them into my face like a wild animal in the jungle. Keifer, the ultimate gentleman, slowly picked out exactly one single chip. He put it in his mouth, chewed it neatly, and swallowed.
"Aren't you going to have more?" I asked, pointing a barbecue chip at him.
"No, thank you," he smiled, adjusting the blanket around my shoulders. "One is enough for me. I prefer to leave the heavy lifting to you, wifey."
"Suit yourself," I said.
And oh boy, did I do the heavy lifting. Throughout the entire movie, my hands never stopped moving. It was like a machine. Reach into the bag, crunch, swallow, repeat. By the time the first movie ended, I had finished three packets. By the time the night grew late and the second movie finished, all five to six packets were completely empty. The coffee table was a disaster zone. There were empty shiny bags everywhere, and thousands of tiny chip crumbs lay scattered across the table and the sofa. My stomach was full, round, and happy. I felt like a successful snack monster.
The clock showed it was almost midnight. The movie credits rolled, and the room became quiet. Keifer stood up to stretch his long legs. He turned on the small lamp by the sofa, and the light hit the living room.
Keifer stopped in his tracks. He looked down at the coffee table. His jaw dropped slightly. He looked at the six empty, crushed packets. Then he looked at my face, which probably had a little bit of chip dust on the chin.
"Jay," Keifer said, his voice turning into his serious "fiancé aka husband" tone. "Did you really eat all of that by yourself?"
"The bags were mostly filled with air, Keifer," I lied, trying to look innocent. "The factory robs us. There were barely any chips inside."
Keifer walked over and looked closely at the mess. He shook his head, but a small, protective smile played on his lips. He sat down next to me and took my greasy hands in his clean ones.
"Wifey," he said softly but firmly. "You shouldn't eat anymore. Look at this mess. Eating this much salt and grease right before bed is terrible for your body. Remember what Dr. Santos said in the Philippines? Your skin and your stomach need rest, especially after stress and jet lag."
I pouted. I pulled my hands away and crossed my arms. "But chips are good for my mental health, Keifer."
"No more," Keifer said, standing up and collecting the empty bags. "I am going to restrict your snacks for a whole week. No chips, no chocolates, no junk food. It is not good for your health, and as your gentleman, it is my job to keep you healthy."
"A whole week?" I gasped, my eyes wide with horror. "That is a prison sentence! You are a tyrant!"
"I am a tyrant who wants you to live a long time," he laughed. He gently tapped the top of my head. "Now, go brush your teeth. It is time for bed."
I dragged my feet up the stairs, feeling a little upset. My beautiful relationship with snacks had been brutally cut short by my own husband. We brushed our teeth, climbed into our giant, comfortable bed, and Keifer turned off the lights. Within five minutes, I could hear his slow, steady breathing. He was fast asleep, probably dreaming about business meetings or clean kitchens.
But I could not sleep.
My eyes were wide open in the dark room. At first, I thought I was just jet-lagged. But then, a dark, dangerous feeling woke up inside me. It was a midnight craving. My stomach, which had been happy two hours ago, suddenly decided it wanted more. The taste of salt and vinegar was calling to me from the darkness. My brain kept repeating one word over and over: Snacks. Snacks. Snacks.
I turned my head slowly to look at Keifer. The moonlight from the window showed his face. He was still sleeping like a baby, completely peaceful.
"I have to do it," I thought. "I cannot survive until breakfast."
I carefully pulled the heavy blanket off my body. I did it millimeter by millimeter, making sure the fabric did not make a sound. I slid my legs out of bed. The air in the bedroom was cold, but the fire of hunger inside me kept me warm. I stood up on the wooden floor. I did not even put on my house slippers because the soft thud of the rubber soles might wake the sleeping giant.
I walked toward the bedroom door on my tiptoes. Every time my foot touched a floorboard, I held my breath, praying the wood would not creak. I reached the door, turned the brass handle with extreme caution, and slipped out into the hallway.
The house was completely dark and quiet. The stairs lay ahead of me. I looked down into the shadows of the ground floor. A funny thought popped into my mind, and I almost giggled out loud.
"This is ridiculous," I thought to myself. "I am a grown woman. I am a university student in London. And yet, I am currently sneaking around my own house like a professional thief, all for the sake of snacks."
I started walking down the stairs, step by step. I stayed close to the wall because I knew the middle of the stairs always made the most noise. Step one... silent. Step two... a tiny squeak. I froze like a statue, staring up at the bedroom door. Nothing happened. Keifer did not wake up. I let out a quiet sigh of relief and continued my secret mission.
Finally, my bare feet hit the cold floor of the ground floor. I scurried into the kitchen like a little mouse. The white counters looked like ghosts in the dark. I did not dare turn on the main kitchen lights. If I turned them on, the bright light would shine under our bedroom door upstairs, and Keifer would know instantly.
Instead, I used the tiny, dim light from the display screen of the microwave to guide my way. I walked over to the pantry cupboard. I opened the door with a slow, agonizing creeeeeak. I reached my hand inside, feeling around the shelves. My fingers passed the boring organic tea. They passed the healthy brown rice. And then, my hand touched something glorious.
It was another hidden box of chocolate-covered biscuits that Keifer had bought.
"Yes!" I cheered silently in my mind. A massive wave of happiness washed over me. I grabbed the box tightly against my chest. I was about to open it right there in the dark and stuff three biscuits into my mouth when suddenly...
Thud. Thud. Thud.
My heart stopped. My blood turned into ice water. Those were footsteps. And they were coming from the hallway right outside the kitchen.
Panic exploded in my brain. I could not let him catch me! I would never hear the end of it! He would mock me for the next ten years!
I looked around the dark kitchen wildly. There was nowhere to run. With zero options left, I quickly ducked behind the large kitchen island. I dropped to my knees, curling my body into a tiny ball, holding the chocolate biscuits close to my heart. I peeked through the small gap between the island and the refrigerator.
The footsteps stopped right in the middle of the kitchen. A tall silhouette stood there in the darkness. It was Keifer. He was wearing his long black silk pajama robe. He looked calm, steady, and terrifyingly awake. He did not move. He just stood there, looking around the dark kitchen.
I held my breath. I squeezed my eyes shut. I started talking to myself in my head, praying with all my might. "Please go away. Please think it was just a ghost. Please go back upstairs to your comfortable bed, you beautiful, annoying man."
A few seconds passed in absolute silence. The shadow did not move. My legs were starting to cramp from crouching behind the kitchen island. I desperately wanted this nightmare to end.
"Maybe he is gone," I whispered very, very softly to myself, barely making a sound with my lips. "Maybe he turned around and left, and I just didn't hear him because I am panicking."
Suddenly, a calm, deep voice answered right above me."Yes, he is gone."
My brain did not process it at first. I felt a wave of relief. "Yes, you are right. I think he went back to bed—"
Then, a sudden realization snapped in my mind like a lightning bolt.
Wait. If I was talking to myself... who just answered me?
My eyes snapped open. My neck felt stiff as I slowly, very slowly, turned my head to my left.
Keifer was not standing in the middle of the kitchen anymore. While I had my eyes shut, he had silently walked around the kitchen island. He was now crouching right next to me on the floor, his face just inches from mine. He had his chin resting on his hand, looking at me with a calm, amused smile.
"AAAH!" I let out a tiny, choked scream, jumping back and hitting my back against the kitchen cabinets.
Keifer did not move. He just looked down at the box of chocolate biscuits that I was still holding tightly like a shield.
"You are talking to the husband who literally banned you from the snack cabinet four hours ago," Keifer said, raising an eyebrow. He looked at the giant bag of chips locked in my death grip. "Wifey, I restricted you, and here you are."
"This isn't what it looks like!" I protested, scrambling for an excuse. "I wasn't eating them. I was… auditing them. For safety. What if Horoscope and Ella left 1995 dust on the chips? I am protecting our household!"
"Uh-huh. And the crumbs on your chin are just defensive armor?" Keifer asked, a smirk playing on his lips."It's a medical necessity!" I whined, puffing out my cheeks. "Dr. Santos said my contact dermatitis was caused by stress. Do you know what stresses me out? Not eating snacks! You are actively sabotaging my recovery, Keifer. This is a human rights violation."
Keifer chuckled, stepping forward and easily prying the chip bag from my fingers. He placed it high up on top of the refrigerator—well out of my reach."Nice try, my little mutant-drool survivor," Keifer said softly, scooping me up into his arms before I could protest. "But you need rest. No more midnight raids."
I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder as he carried me back to the bedroom. "It's deeply unfair," I grumbled into his shirt. "I get hives and a snack ban, and you look like a movie star at 2:00 AM. I'm reporting you to the universe."
"Sleep now, talk later," Keifer laughed, gently tucking me under the warm blankets and kissing my forehead. I grumbled one last complaint about my lost chips, rolled over, and instantly drifted back into a deep, peaceful sleep....