Jay-Jay (POV)
"Marry me," I said, my eyes locked on his—searching, waiting… needing his yes.
"But… why suddenly?" he asked.
The words felt wrong.
Unfamiliar.
Not him.
And just like that—
Fear slipped into my chest.
Why…?
Why not, yes?
My fingers tightened slightly.
"Why…" my voice faltered, "am I not enough?"
The moment the words left me, it felt like something inside me cracked open.
Because I remembered.
Everything collapsing.
His voice.
Saying he didn't love me.
My breath turned uneven.
Why doesn't he love me enough to marry me now…?
Or…
Is he waiting?
Waiting for me to remember everything… before choosing me again?
"No," he said immediately, stepping closer.
My breath caught—
and then came back to me.
"It's always you."
The words settled into my chest, steadying everything that had started to fall apart.
I swallowed softly.
"Then… be mine," I said, a trace of hesitation slipping through.
"I'll be yours… completely."
My fingers curled at my sides.
"I want all of you."
All of you.
Your pain… your happiness… every broken piece you tried to hide.
"I don't need a grand wedding," I continued, my voice quiet but certain.
"I don't need anything else."
My fists clenched tighter.
"I just want you to be mine…"
A small breath.
"…and mine only."
"I don't want to lose you to someone else…"
Yes… I don't want to give him a chance to push me away again.
But I could see it.
His hesitation.
The way his eyes avoided mine for just a second too long.
I knew it.
He was going to deny it.
Always choosing distance… always choosing silence when it mattered most.
Think, Jay.
Think.
What do I do to make him stay?
To make him choose me without hesitation?
My thoughts spiraled, restless, urgent—until something resurfaced.
Not a memory.
A feeling.
A thought I had buried before I ever dared to admit it to myself.
If words weren't enough…
Then I needed something stronger than words.
Something that didn't give him room to step back.
Something that made running away impossible.
Because if I let this moment slip again…
I might lose him completely.
"Jay, I—"
Before he could finish, I kissed him.
Not soft. Not hesitant.
It was a desperate feeling—too full of everything I couldn't express aloud.
For a moment, there was nothing back from him.
No response.
No return.
Just stillness.
My hand was already moving to the door.
Click.
Locked.
"Jay… wait," he said, pulling me back slightly.
He held my shoulders.
And froze.
Why don't you want me anymore?
I didn't look away from him.
Silence.
Then—
A quiet exhale.
"Fine."
My chest tightened.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking away for a second like he was collecting himself.
"I've been waiting for this, too," he said finally.
My breath caught.
"But—"
He stopped.
Walked past me.
I turned slightly, confused, watching as he reached for his blazer.
He came back holding a small box.
My heart dropped instantly.
Slowly, he looked at me again.
Not like before.
This time, steady.
Certain.
He opened the box.
A ring.
The light caught it softly.
"And I want to make you mine too," he said.
Everything inside me stilled.
And then—slowly—something warm pushed through the fear.
Relief.
Happiness.
Like I had been holding my breath for far too long without even realizing it… and only now, near him, I was finally allowed to breathe again.
Kiefer always does this to me. He surprises me in ways I never saw coming, yet somehow feels like the only place I've ever truly belonged.
He's not just waiting for me.
He's waiting for me like I'm already his future wife.
Like, there's no doubt. No distance. No "what if."
Just… inevitability.
Then he moves.
Quiet. Certain.
He walks to the bed, pulls off the blanket, and for a second, I don't understand what he's doing.
Until he gently lifts it—careful, almost reverent—and brings it over me.
And places it over my head.
Not roughly. Not jokingly.
Softly.
Like a veil.
My breath catches.
The world shrinks into that single moment.
I instinctively hold the fabric with my fingers, keeping it from slipping, my heart suddenly too loud in my chest. And when I look up through the white cloth—
I see him.
Only him.
Standing there like he's looking at something sacred, not temporary.
I'm not wearing a wedding dress.
There's no music, no aisle, no ceremony.
Just a white bedsheet draped over me, wrapping me clumsily, making me look small… fragile… almost like a caterpillar still waiting to become something else.
But in his eyes—
I don't look incomplete.
I look chosen.
He steps closer, his gaze never leaving mine.
And for the first time, I don't feel like I'm becoming something.
I feel like I've already been found.
The world didn't feel real anymore.
Not the room.
Not the air.
Not even my heartbeat.
Only him.
Only Kiefer.
His voice still lingered in the space between us—steady, yet breaking in places only I could hear.
"I, Mark Kiefer Watson…" he had begun, like it was a vow carved out of years instead of minutes.
And every word after that didn't feel spoken.
It felt given.
"I might be smarter than you in everything else…"
He smiled then—small, almost helpless—but it didn't hide anything. If anything, it revealed too much.
"But when it comes to you… I lose control."
My fingers tightened around the fabric over my head, like I needed something to hold onto or I might float away.
He stepped closer.
The distance between us disappeared like it had been waiting to.
"I'm obsessive. Possessive. Maybe even a little insane when it comes to you."
My breath hitched.
Because it wasn't a warning.
It was honesty.
I knew I saw you… And I still feel for you.
His hand found mine.
And that was when I noticed it—
He wasn't calm.
Kiefer… wasn't calm.
The man who always looked like he controlled everything was trembling just slightly where our fingers met. Like he was holding onto me more than I was holding onto him.
Like he was afraid I'd disappear if he blinked.
"But I love you… more than anything."
His voice dropped lower, softer now, as if the confession itself were too heavy to carry loudly.
"I want you. I choose you—every second, every moment."
A pause.
A fragile one.
And then—
"Just… don't leave me again."
His grip tightened slightly. Not painful. Not demanding.
Just scared.
A fear that had lived in him longer than I ever realized.
"Because I would lose myself… completely."
Something inside me cracked at that.
Not broken.
Just opened.
And then—
"So be my wife."
He slipped the ring onto my finger.
It was warm from his hand.
Real.
Final.
My vision blurred instantly, tears spilling before I could stop them. Everything around me softened, like the world itself had decided this moment mattered more than anything else.
The noise in my head… the confusion… the distance… the past—
It all stopped.
Because he was there.
Because he was here.
I lowered my gaze slowly.
And saw it.
The ring.
Engraved.
Not just a design.
A name.
My name.
"Jasper Jean Mariano Watson…"
My breath caught so hard it hurt.
For a second, I couldn't even blink.
That name didn't feel like ink on metal.
It felt like a promise carved into time.
My fingers trembled as I touched it, like I was scared it would disappear if I pressed too hard.
And through the blur of my tears, I finally looked up at him again.
And he was still there.
Still waiting.
Not demanding an answer.
Just hoping I wouldn't walk away from it.
From him.
"It's beautiful," I whispered.
A small smile touched his face immediately—like those two words were everything he needed to hear.
"It's the only one made for you," he said softly.
His voice had that quiet certainty again. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just… sure. Like he'd already decided this truth a long time ago.
"Every part of it… is filled with me."
I let out a shaky breath, eyes still fixed on the ring, noticing the fine detail in it—the careful work, the intent behind every curve. Not something bought on impulse. Something built. Something chosen.
"I learned how to make it myself… from a professional."
That made my chest tighten differently.
Because it wasn't about skill.
It was about effort.
About choice.
He could've bought anything. Anything in the world. But he didn't.
He made this.
Because it meant more.
Because I meant more.
His thumb brushed lightly over my hand, grounding me when everything inside me felt too soft, too full.
"So even when I'm not with you…" He murmured.
His voice dropped lower, almost like he didn't want the world to hear it.
"…a part of me is with you."
I stared at the ring again.
And suddenly it wasn't just jewelry.
It felt like a declaration.
Like he wasn't just putting his name beside mine—
He was placing himself there.
Saying without words: she is mine, and I am hers, even when I am not present.
And somehow… it wasn't suffocating.
It was him.
Always him.
A tear slipped down my cheek before I even realized it.
But before it could fall further—
He saw it.
Before he could even lift his hand to reach it, I quickly brushed it away myself—too fast, almost too careful.
I couldn't let him see it.
Not this part.
Not the weakness that wasn't just emotion… but the heat, dizziness, and the quiet heaviness sitting behind my eyes.
If he knew…
He would stop everything.
He would take me to a hospital.
And I couldn't let that happen.
Not now.
Not when this moment—this ceremony between us—was still unfolding, still becoming real in a way I couldn't explain.
I forced a small breath in, steadying myself.
Just a little longer…
I pressed the thought into my own mind like a command, like I was talking to my body instead of just enduring it.
Please. Cooperate with me. Just until this is over.
My fingers tightened slightly around his hand, not for comfort anymore but for strength.
To stay upright.
To stay present.
To not let anything slip.
Kiefer's gaze stayed on me, sharp in the way only he could be—like he was always reading what I didn't say out loud.
"I don't have a ring…" I murmured.
The realization hit me only after I said it out loud—almost absurd, almost tender in how late it arrived.
I hadn't planned anything beyond him.
Not objects. Not symbols. Not preparation.
Just the idea of marrying him… of standing here and not letting him slip away again.
My eyes moved around the room quickly, searching—restless, determined. Anything could become something if I just looked at it long enough.
And then I saw it.
The bread tie.
A small strip, tightened with a thin golden thread.
Something ordinary.
Something forgettable.
Until now.
An idea sparked instantly.
"Wait," I said, already moving.
Kiefer's head turned slightly, watching me, but I didn't stop. I walked toward it as it had suddenly become the most important thing in the world.
My fingers reached for it carefully, almost like I was afraid it might disappear if I hesitated.
I remembered Mia showing me once how small things could be tied, shaped, and repurposed when you didn't have anything else. I never thought I would actually use it like this.
Not in a moment like this.
Not for him.
But maybe… that was the point.
Maybe nothing about this love was ever meant to be perfect.
Only real.
I tightened my grip gently, adjusting it in my hands, shaping it with quiet focus. My breathing was still uneven, my body still a little unsteady—but my hands didn't shake.
Not when it mattered like this.
Because somehow… I couldn't help thinking—
Maybe I was really meant for him.
Maybe even in the smallest, most unexpected ways, I always found my way back to this.
Back to us.
"Kiefer…" I said softly.
But my voice wasn't small.
It carried something deeper.
Something steady.
Something chosen.
Every word held weight—like I was stepping into a promise I didn't fully know how to name yet, but already knew I couldn't walk away from.
I looked at him properly now.
Not through hesitation. Not through fear.
Just him.
"I would choose you… even if I were lost."
A small step closer to the future I didn't fully understand yet—but still wanted with him in it.
"Even if I lose myself… I would still choose you."
Because somewhere in that truth was something simple:
I didn't want a life where he wasn't there.
"I want you… only you."
My fingers tightened around the makeshift ring I had created, like it was suddenly as important as anything he had ever given me.
"Nothing in the world can make me happy without you… I want you."
A breath.
A pause.
Then a small, almost helpless smile crossed my lips.
"I may not be a perfect wife…"
It came out honestly, almost like a confession meant to make him laugh—because I knew it was true. I couldn't cook properly. I had burned more things than I could count. I had broken things I didn't mean to. I wasn't polished. I wasn't careful like him.
"But I'll learn."
Because I would.
For him.
For us.
"I'll walk beside you… even when you're lost."
My gaze didn't waver now.
"I'll hold you… even when you break."
The words landed softly between us.
Not as a promise of fixing him.
But of staying.
No matter what shape he was in.
A pause lingered in the air—thick, emotional, real.
Then I whispered, finally—
"So promise me…"
Silence wrapped around us.
Not empty.
Heavy.
Full.
Like the whole world had stepped back just to watch what would happen next.
My eyes searched his face desperately, as if his expression were the only place I could find air.
"…that you won't leave me."
The words broke on the edge of my breath.
And then the truth followed right after it.
A tear slipped down again, slower this time, like my body had stopped trying to fight it.
"Because I don't know how to breathe when you're not beside me."
My voice softened, but it didn't collapse. It just… revealed too much.
The space between us didn't move.
But everything inside it did.
"You held me… even when I was already broken."
My hand found his warmth again—careful, almost instinctive. Not because I needed comfort alone, but because I needed proof he was still real.
"You taught me how to love."
Not gently.
Not safely.
But completely.
"So… will you stay with me?"
A pause.
The kind that makes time feel like it forgets how to move.
"For the rest of my life?"
My breath steadied, even as my heart didn't.
"I want to be your wife."
And then—
My fingers lifted the thread ring I had made. Not perfect. Not polished. But honest in a way nothing else in that room could match.
I slipped it onto his hand.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Like I was choosing him back as much as I was giving myself away.
"And I want to be the only one in this world…"
My gaze didn't move from his.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't hide.
"…the only one you can be obsessed with."
A faint tightening in my fingers, like I was holding onto the edge of something I didn't want to lose.
"The only one you can be possessive about."
My voice didn't shake now.
Not because I wasn't feeling it—
But because I meant it too deeply to hide it.
"The only one you choose to notice—"
I stepped just slightly closer, enough that nothing else existed between us anymore.
"Finally yours, Kiefer."
A breath.
Then softer, quieter—
"I want to be loved… as Jasper Jane Mariano Watson—by you."
There was no asking left in me.
Only giving.
Only choosing.
Only staying.
And then—
My fingers tightened around his hand, grounding myself in him like it was the only truth I trusted.
"Now…"
A whisper.
Certain.
"I'm yours."
Not as a request.
Not as a fear.
But as a decision made with all that I was.
Completely.
Every version of me.
Every broken part.
Every healed part.
All of it—choosing you. Only you, Kiefer.
The room tilted slightly.
Not emotionally this time—physically.
My head felt light, almost detached, like my thoughts were floating a second behind reality. My vision blurred at the edges, heat and exhaustion finally catching up to everything I had been holding back.
But even through that haze…
I was happy.
Deeply. Quietly. Completely.
Like I had crossed something I wasn't sure I could ever reach, and now I didn't know how to go back.
I was waiting.
Not for words anymore.
For him.
For the moment, this promise would finally become real in the only way my heart understood it now.
A seal.
A kiss.
"Are you done…?" he asked softly.
That faint smile of his appeared again—steady, knowing, like he had been watching me fall into him the entire time without ever stopping me.
I looked up at him through my blurred vision.
And then—
"Now… can I kiss my bride?"
He didn't wait.
Not because he didn't care.
But because he already knew.
He pulled me into his arms, as I had always belonged there. Like gravity had finally done its job after years of waiting.
And then—
He closed the distance.
The kiss was deep.
Certain.
Unhesitating.
Like a promise that didn't need the world's permission anymore.
My heart surged at it—at him—but my body didn't keep up. My legs weakened beneath me, the fever, the exhaustion, and the overwhelming emotion all crashing at once.
I tried to hold on.
To stay there.
To stay with him.
But everything started slipping—softly, gently, like I was being pulled under something warm instead of falling.
"Jay," he said softly.
Not the confident voice from moments ago.
The last thing I felt was his arms tightening around me instinctively, catching me before I could fully collapse.
Holding me like I wasn't something to lose.
Like I never would be.
And then—
The world dimmed. The world came back in pieces.
Sound first.
Faint voices.
Movement.
Then warmth—steady, familiar—but not the one my body had been reaching for in that darkness.
I blinked slowly, my lashes heavy, my thoughts still scattered like they hadn't fully decided to return.
I was in Kuya's arms.
"Kuya…" I whispered, barely audible.
"I'm here," Clyden said instantly, his voice calm but alert, shifting me slightly so I was held more securely. Protective. Anchoring.
But my eyes were already searching past him.
Not for safety.
For him.
And then I saw Kiefer.
Everything inside me tightened at once.
Like my body recognized what my mind was still too weak to process properly.
"I need Kiefer…" I said, voice thin, cracked by fever and exhaustion.
My fingers moved instinctively, weakly gripping Kuya's shirt at first—then slipping toward the only place they actually wanted to be.
Kiefer.
"I want to be with my husband."
The words fell into the room like something irreversible.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Not empty—full of everything no one was saying out loud.
Kiefer didn't move at first.
Just stood there, watching me.
That same intensity from before was still in his eyes—but now it was layered with something sharper underneath.
Fear.
The kind that didn't come from losing control.
It came from seeing me like this.
He stepped forward slowly.
Not rushing.
Careful, like one wrong move might make things worse.
"You're not okay," he said quietly.
Not a question.
A fact he didn't want to accept.
His gaze dropped for a second—my flushed skin, my weak grip, the way I could barely stay awake even while trying so hard to stay with him.
Then back to my face.
"Jay…"
Soft again.
But firmer now.
"You're coming with me. We're getting you help." Clyden kuya said
There was no argument in his voice.
Just certainty wrapped around worry.
But my fingers tightened again, weak but desperate, as if even the idea of distance from him hurt more than the fever itself.
Because in my mind—
He wasn't just someone I loved anymore.
He was where I survived.
And the silence between us didn't break.
It simply waited for what would happen next.
"Jay, you have a high fever," Clyden said, softer now—but steady, grounded. His gaze lingered on me with that familiar concern, the kind that always came with silent reminders of responsibility. We already spoke about this… and you still ended up here.
"I know…" I whispered weakly.
But even as the words left me, my eyes didn't leave Kiefer.
Because knowing didn't change what my body wanted.
What my heart refused to negotiate with.
"I need him…" My voice broke slightly. "Only him…"
My hand reached out, searching blindly through the blur in my vision until it found what it was looking for.
Kiefer.
"Before he refuses me…"
Clyden didn't say anything immediately. He just exhaled quietly, like he understood more than he wanted to admit.
And then—
"But Kiefer will take care of me," I added, almost pleading, as if saying it enough times would make it unquestionable.
That was all it took.
Kiefer stepped forward.
No hesitation.
No distance.
Just him, moving as he had already decided where he belonged.
The moment he was close enough, something in me gave way completely.
I wrapped my arms around him, weak but desperate, pulling him down into me as much as I could. My face buried instinctively against his neck, breathing him in like it was the only thing keeping me anchored to reality.
I refused to let go.
Like a child holding onto the only safe place they know.
"Hubby…" I whispered, the word slipping out before I could even think.
And somehow, it felt right.
Natural.
Like it had always belonged there.
"…you'll take care of me, right?"
My voice was barely there now—fever pulling me under again, exhaustion pressing heavier with every second.
A pause.
Then his arms tightened around me.
Firm.
Certain.
Protective in a way that didn't need explanation anymore.
"…Yeah," Kiefer said quietly.
"I've got you."
And that was it.
That was enough.
My grip loosened slightly—not because I let go…
But because I finally felt held.
My eyes fluttered shut, the world fading again—but this time it didn't feel like falling.
It felt like being carried.
......After some time.....
When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the bed.
My clothes had been changed.
I was in his shirt.
It carried his scent—warm, familiar, grounding in a way that made my chest loosen without me even realizing it.
A small, unconscious smile formed on my lips.
Beside me, Kiefer sat with his back slightly leaned against the headboard, eyes closed as if he had finally allowed himself a moment of rest.
But even asleep, he looked alert—like he wasn't fully letting go.
Like he was still holding on to me in some way.
I stared at him for a second.
And the need came back instantly.
Not loud.
Just steady.
I wanted him closer.
I needed his warmth again.
"Hubby," I called softly.
His eyes opened immediately.
No delay.
No confusion.
Just awareness—like he had been waiting for my voice even in sleep.
His gaze settled on me, scanning my face in an instant, checking.
I opened my arms slightly, instinctively reaching for him again.
"I need you," I said quietly.
Kiefer's gaze tightened immediately, that familiar concern flashing through his eyes.
"Jay, you have a fever," he said, voice low but firm.
"So what…" I murmured, already drifting between awareness and exhaustion. "I need you…"
His expression shifted—confused, almost disbelieving.
"I know…" I added softly, like it was obvious. "That's why I'm asking for my medicine."
A pause.
"…Me?" he asked, pointing at himself, as if the word didn't quite make sense in that moment.
But I didn't answer properly.
Because I didn't need words anymore.
He slowly lay down beside me—careful, cautious, like I was something fragile he might break if he breathed too hard. His hesitation was there in every movement, restrained, controlled.
But I didn't stay distant.
I moved closer immediately.
My arms slipped around him, pulling him in with what little strength I had left. My head found its place near the nape of his neck, where everything about him felt real—warm, steady, grounding.
His scent surrounded me.
Not perfect.
Not anything I could describe properly.
But familiar in a way my body recognized before my mind could.
Safe.
Mine.
"Jay… what are you doing?" he asked quietly, his voice lower now, careful not to disturb me.
"I was looking for my medicine…" I whispered against him.
A soft pause filled the space between us.
"…now I found it."
Before he could respond—
I pressed a gentle kiss against his neck.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just honest.
Like a final surrender to warmth I had been searching for all along.
His body stiffened slightly at the contact, surprise flickering through him—but he didn't pull away.
And slowly…
The tension in me loosened.
The fever, the exhaustion, the chaos of everything faded at the edges until there was only him left holding me together.
My breathing slowed.
My grip softened.
And with him wrapped around me like the safest place I had ever known…
I finally fell asleep.