8 MONTHS LATER
KEIFER POV
It has been eight months. Two hundred and forty days of waking up to a cold bed and a house that feels like a tomb.
Where are you, Jay?
I have spent millions. I have looked into every flight manifest, every bus route, and every small town in every surrounding state. I have fired private investigators who told me she didn't want to be found. I don't care if she doesn't want to be found—I need to know she is breathing. I need to know why she wrote that letter.
Was it really because you didn't want to live with me? Was I truly that much of a monster to live with?
I was sitting in our living room, maps and laptop screens spread out across the coffee table like a war room. I hadn't shaved in days. I looked like the ghost of the man I used to be.
"Eat something, asshole," a voice snapped.
I didn't even look up to see Aries walking in. He had been staying close, helping me with the search, though his own eyes were hollow with worry for his sister. He dropped a takeout container of noodles in front of me.
"I'm not hungry," I said, my voice sounding like gravel.
"Yeah, Keif, eat something. Or else when our sister comes back, she will kill us for not taking care of you," Percy said, following Aries into the room. He tried to sound like his usual joking self, but his tone was serious, his eyes shadowed. "She'll say we let her husband turn into a skeleton."
"I can't eat while she's out there somewhere," I muttered, pushing the container away. "What if she's hungry? What if she's cold?"
"Jay-Jay is a survivor, Keifer," Aries said, sitting heavily on the sofa opposite me. "She's smart. She's probably teaching English somewhere, bossing people around and stealing their snacks. You know how she is."
"I found a lead," I whispered, grabbing a file. "A small town three states away. A woman matching her description started working at a community learning center four months ago. She's using the name 'Jane.'"
Percy leaned in, his face turning sharp. "Is it her?"
"I don't know yet. But I'm leaving tonight," I said, finally standing up. My legs felt weak, but my resolve was like iron. "I don't care if she hates me. I don't care if she screams at me to leave. I just need to see her face."
JAY-JAY POV
I adjusted the stack of essays on my desk, leaning back with a heavy sigh. Moving around was getting harder and harder lately. My back ached, and my feet were swollen, but the sight of my classroom always calmed me down.
I was no longer at the high school with Section E. I was in a quiet town where no one knew the name Watson. Here, I was just Miss Jane, the English teacher who ate too much chocolate and cried during the poetry lessons.
I placed my hand on my very large, very round stomach.
"Almost there, little Watson," I whispered, feeling a strong kick in response. "Just a few more weeks."
Eight months. I had survived eight months of missing him. Every night I would wrap myself in the one hoodie I took with me—the one that finally lost his scent months ago—and I would tell the baby stories about their father. I told the baby how he was a grumpy billionaire who made heart-shaped pancakes.
I looked at the clock. It was time to go home to my small, lonely apartment.
As I walked out of the school building, clutching my bag, I felt that familiar, nagging sense of being watched. For eight months, I had been looking over my shoulder, terrified that Jason would appear to finish his threat.
I went home after picking up some groceries, the plastic bags feeling heavier than usual. I am currently three states away from Keifer, tucked away in a small town where life is slow and quiet.
It hurts every time I think of him, but I keep telling myself this has to be the way. Maybe we really are just meant to be a tragedy. Every time I think we have finally reached our happy ending, something happens to pull us apart. Jason's threat still rings in my ears every night, keeping the fear fresh.
I took a shower and changed into my softest PJs. After finishing my dinner, I looked at my desk where my passport and a single packed suitcase sat ready. After the baby is born, I am going to Finland. I have already researched everything; it will be easier to disappear permanently in a different country.
"You just be born, and then it will be just you and me," I whispered, rubbing the massive bump that was currently stretching my shirt.
Just then, I heard a sharp knock on the door. My stomach did a little flip of excitement.
"Yes! Finally!" I muttered. The chocolate cake I had ordered as a treat for surviving another week of heart-ache was finally here.
I grabbed my wallet, checking I had the right change, and pulled the door open with a wide grin.
"Here is your money, give me my cake!" I said, thrusting the bills toward the person standing in the shadows of the hallway.
Only then did I realize the delivery guy wasn't holding a cake box.
My eyes traveled up the expensive sleeves of a dark coat, past a familiar broad chest, and landed on a face that was haunted, thin, and dangerously pale. My heart didn't just skip a beat; it felt like it stopped entirely.
"I didn't bring cake, Jay," the voice growled, rough and broken.
I let out a small, terrified gasp, my hand involuntarily flying to my stomach.
"Keifer," I breathed.
He stood there, frozen, his eyes fixed on my face for only a second before they dropped to my middle. I watched the blood drain from his face as his gaze stayed glued to the undeniable curve of my eight-month pregnancy. The silence in the hallway was deafening, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing.
"Eight months," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and soul-deep agony. "I have been living in hell for eight months, and you were here... carrying my child?"
I tried to step back, but my legs felt like jelly. "Keifer, you shouldn't be here. You have to leave, right now. It's not safe for you."
He didn't listen. He stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind him with a finality that made the walls shake. He just looked at me, his eyes filling with tears that he refused to let fall.
"Not safe?" he repeated, stepping closer until I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, now mixed with the smell of the cold wind. "You think I care about being safe? I died the day you left that note, Jay-Jay."
He reached out, his hand shaking violently as he hovered his palm just inches away from my stomach, as if he were afraid I would vanish if he actually touched me.
"Is it mine?" he asked, his voice a jagged sliver of hope and pain.
"Of course it's yours!" I sobbed, the lie Jason forced me to live finally crumbling. "There was never anyone else, Keifer. Gago, there could never be anyone else but you."
He closed the distance, his hands gripping my waist with a desperate strength as he leaned his forehead against mine. "Then why? Why did you leave me to rot in that house alone? Why did you make me think you hated our life together?"
"Because he said he would kill you!" I cried out, my hands clutching his lapels. "Jason... he came to the school. He said if I didn't leave, he would start with Keigan and Keiran, and then he would kill you. I had just found out about the baby, Keifer. I couldn't let him kill our family."
I felt Keifer's entire body go rigid. The grief in his eyes was replaced by a cold, murderous fire that made the hair on my arms stand up.
"Jason," he hissed the name like a curse. "He did this to us?"
"I'm sorry," I whispered, burying my face in his chest, finally letting go of the weight I had carried alone for eight months. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize," he murmured, his arms wrapping around me and my bump, pulling us both into a crushingly tight embrace. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again. Not for a second. If he wants to get to my family, he'll have to go through me first."
I don't know how long we hugged for, but it was definitely more than ten or twenty minutes. I just buried my face in his chest, breathing in the scent I thought I'd never inhale again. He felt like home.
"Why didn't you tell me, Jay?" he asked, his voice shaking with a mix of relief and lingering hurt.
"I was scared, Keifer. I didn't want anything happening to you or this baby. I didn't want our child to be raised in an environment where it's life or death," I said, my voice cracking.
He didn't say a word. He just picked me up—which was a feat considering I felt like a human beach ball—and carried me to the sofa. He sat me down gently, as if I were made of the finest porcelain, and then he knelt on the floor between my legs, his hands immediately finding their way back to my stomach.
The shock in the room started to melt, replaced by a warmth that made my heart ache. Keifer stared at my bump like he was seeing a miracle.
"So," he whispered, his eyes finally flickering with a bit of that old Keifer arrogance. "Do we know what it is? Is it a mini-me or a mini-clumsy-teacher?"
I snorted, wiping away a stray tear. "I don't know yet. I wanted it to be a surprise. But I'm betting it's a girl. She's very picky about what I eat."
Keifer arched an eyebrow, a slow, smug smirk spreading across his face. "It's a boy, Jay. I'm certain."
"And how can you be so sure, Mr. CEO? Did you check the quarterly projections?" I teased.
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made the baby kick right against his palm. His eyes darkened with a playful, spicy glint—one I hadn't seen in nearly a year. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear.
"Because, Jay," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky vibration that sent shivers down my spine. "I remember exactly how intense I was that night. I wasn't in a gentle mood. I was claiming you. And when I'm that focused on marking what's mine, I only produce heirs."
My face went from pale to a bright, pulsing red. "Gago! Keifer! That is not how science works!"
"It's how my science works," he countered, lookng up at me with a wink. "The amount of effort I put in? Definitely a boy. He's probably in there practicing how to glare at people who get too close to you."
I laughed, pushing his shoulder. "You're unbelievable. Eight months apart and the first thing you do is brag about your... performance?"
"I've had eight months of silence, Jay-Jay," he said, his expression softening as he leaned his head against my stomach. "I have a lot of bragging to catch up on."
I ran my fingers through his messy hair, feeling a happiness so sharp it almost hurt. "Well, if it's a boy, he's going to be just as much of a headache as his father."
"And if it's a girl," Keifer whispered, kissing the fabric covering my bump. "I'm going to have to buy a second island, because no man will ever be allowed within ten miles of her."
I rolled my eyes. "See? This is why I was worried. You're already a possessive boulder."
"Your possessive boulder," he corrected, looking up at me with so much love I felt like I was melting into the cushions.
He leaned up and kissed me—not the desperate, hungry kiss from before, but a slow, sweet promise.
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