JAY JAY POV
"I'm sorry," Keifer whispered against my lips, the words shaking with a vulnerability I'd never heard from him. "I'm so fucking sorry, Jay."
He kissed me again, a desperate, salt-tasted plea for forgiveness that almost made me forget the world was collapsing. My heart was a traitor, still thrumming that frantic Keifer-Keifer-Keifer rhythm even as my brain was screaming at me to run.
"I'm sorry, too," I breathed out, leaning into him for a split second.
He pulled back just an inch, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with a flickering hope. "Why?" he asked, his voice raw.
The hope in his eyes was the final straw.
The grief snapped into a blinding, white-hot rage.
I didn't answer. I shoved him—hard.
My palms hit his chest, and for a second, the King of Section E actually stumbled. My eyes landed on the ceramic vase sitting on my dresser. I didn't think; I just grabbed it and launched it at his head
The vase shattered against the wall right next to his shoulder, sending shards of porcelain flying across the room like shrapnel.
"JAY-JAY! OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!" Jare's voice exploded from the hallway, the wood of the door groaning under the weight of his shoulder. "I SWEAR TO GOD, KEIFER, IF YOU TOUCH HER—"
I ignored my twin. I ignored the stinging in my hands. I stepped into Keifer's space, my face inches from his, my chest heaving.
"You asshole!" I screamed, the sound tearing through my throat. "How dare you lie to me?! How dare you look me in the eye and call me yours while you were planning to use me like a weapon?! Was I even a person to you, Watson, or just a trophy to shove in Aries' face?"
Keifer didn't move. He didn't even flinch at the broken ceramic at his feet. He just stood there, taking the impact of my words like they were the physical blows he deserved.
"Answer me!" I yelled, grabbing the front of his shirt and shaking him. "Was any of it real, or am I just the best move you ever made on a chessboard?!"
"Every single fucking thing is real, Jay-Jay," Keifer rasped, his voice dropping into that deep, vibrating register. He didn't pull away from my grip; he leaned into it, his eyes boring into mine with a raw, desperate honesty. "The plan died the second you hit me in that classroom. Everything since... the kisses, the ring, the way I can't breathe when you're not in the room—that's not a move. That's just me falling apart for you."
I didn't let go. If anything, I yanked his collar harder, pulling him down until our noses were almost touching, my knuckles white from the strain.
"Are you hiding anything else?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "Tell me now, Watson. If there's one more secret, one more chess move I don't know about, I'm getting on the first flight back to Heathrow and you'll never see me again."
Keifer didn't flinch. He just reached up, his large, warm hands covering mine where they clutched his shirt. "Nothing, baby. Just this. I've given you all the skeletons in my closet. I'm empty."
Baby.
That word. That stupid, possessive, affectionate word he always used to turn my brain into mush.
"I will punch you if you keep calling me baby right now," I hissed, my eyes narrowing. "Don't you dare try to act like the charming fiancé when I'm standing in a pile of broken porcelain because of you."
I expected him to look apologetic. I expected him to look scared.
But instead, a small, involuntary smile twitched at the corner of Keifer's mouth. It was that signature, arrogant Watson glint—the one that said he knew he still had a hold on me, the one that said he found my fury endearing.
He realized it was a mistake the second the smile touched his lips. His eyes widened slightly, the Oh shit realization hitting him a millisecond too late.
I didn't hesitate. I didn't wait for an explanation or a Yes/No trap.
I pulled back and delivered a solid, London-bred punch straight to his jaw.
THUD.
The sound of my fist connecting with his face echoed through the room, nearly drowning out Jare's frantic cursing and the rattling of the door handle from the hallway. Keifer's head snapped to the side, his grip on my waist loosening as he staggered back a step, his hand flying up to catch his jaw.
The rattling from the hallway was giving me a migraine to match the one in my heart. I ignored the throbbing in my knuckles—the one that had just collided with Keifer's jaw—and strode past the broken shards of the vase to the door.
Click.
I twisted the lock and yanked the door open so hard it nearly hit the wall.
The entire welcoming committee was there. Jare, Dave, Ben, Mia, and Sarah were all piled into the hallway, looking like they were ready to stage a swat team invasion. The silence was instantaneous the second they saw the state of the room—the broken porcelain, my flushed face, and Keifer standing there holding his jaw.
"Keifer, are you okay?" Dave asked, his eyes wide as he looked at the red mark already forming on Keifer's face.
"Did she kill you?" Ben added, leaning in with a mix of genuine concern and his usual morbid curiosity. "Because that sounded like a heavy-weight knockout."
I didn't even give them a chance to finish.
Smack. Smack.
I delivered a sharp hit to both of their shoulders as I pushed past them. "Shut up! Both of you!"
But the peace didn't last a second. Jare didn't wait for an explanation or a greeting. He saw Keifer, he saw the mess, and he saw the tears in my eyes.
My twin launched himself into the room. Before Keifer could even straighten up, Jare delivered a brutal punch that sent the King of Section E stumbling back against the dresser.
"Fucking asshole! I heard everything!" Jare roared, his chest heaving as he stood over his soon-to-be brother-in-law. His face was a mask of pure, twin-protective fury. "The plan? The half-brother? Our mother? You knew all of it and you still had the nerve to touch her?!"
Jare grabbed Keifer by the front of his shirt, yanking him up until they were eye-to-eye. "What else? What else are you hiding, you manipulative prick?!"
The room held its breath. I stood by the door, my heart doing a frantic, painful sprint against my ribs. Keifer didn't fight back—he didn't even raise his hands to defend himself. He just looked at Jare with that same shattered, honest expression he'd given me.
But then, Keifer's arrogance flickered back just enough to keep him from completely breaking.
"The fact that you're spitting on me right now," Keifer answered, wiping a stray drop of Jare's frustrated spit from his cheek with a slow, deliberate movement.
Even with a bruised jaw and my brother's fist bunched in his collar, he managed to let out a short, dry chuckle—a hollow sound that lacked its usual smugness.
"You want to hit me again, Jare? Go ahead," Keifer rasped, his eyes shifting from my twin to me. "I deserve every bit of it. But I'm not lying about the rest. I'm done with the moves. I just want Jay."
"You don't deserve to say her name!" Jare hissed, pulling back his fist for another round.
"Stop it!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "Jare, stop! Enough!"
I couldn't take it anymore. The noise, the violence, the secrets—it was all too much for one night. I looked at Keifer, then at my brother, feeling like I was standing in the middle of a war zone where I was the only casualty.
"Everyone out," I breathed, my hands shaking. "I mean it. Out! Except for Jare."
The rest didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled out of the room, looking like they were glad to escape the fallout of a nuclear explosion. Jare finally let go of Keifer's collar, shoving him back with a grunt of pure frustration. I expected Keifer to retreat, to take the hint and vanish back into the night before my twin actually committed a felony.
"Get out, Keifer. I don't want to see your face right now," Jare hissed, his hands still bunched into fists at his sides.
"Tell Jay-Jay to say that," Keifer shot back.
He didn't move. Despite the bruised jaw, despite the porcelain shards on the floor, and despite the fact that Jare looked ready to kill him, he stayed rooted to the spot. He was looking at me with that stubborn, territorial intensity that always made my heart do a frantic skip.
"Jay-Jay, tell this asshole to leave," Jare commanded, turning to me.
I looked at Keifer. He looked like a mess—his hair was disheveled, his shirt was wrinkled from Jare's grip, and a visible bruise was darkening on his face where my fist had connected. But his eyes... they were still locked on mine, pleading, silent, and impossibly loud.
"Keifer..." I started, my voice catching.
"Say it, Jay," he rasped, his voice dropping into that deep, gravelly register. "If you want me to go, I'll go. But don't let him speak for you."
The room was so quiet I could hear the ticking of the clock on my nightstand. Jare was vibrating with rage next to me "Jare, just... give us a second," I whispered.
"Are you serious?!" Jare exploded, his arms flailing. "Jay, he literally admitted to using you! He knew about Aries! He knew about our mother! And you want to talk to him?!"
"Jare, please," I said, my voice cracking as a fresh wave of tears blurred my vision. "I just... I need to handle this. Just stay right outside the door. Please."
Jare stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. He looked at me, then shot a look of pure, unadulterated hatred at Keifer. "Fine," he spat, pointing a finger at Keifer's chest. "Five minutes, Watson. If she so much as sighs too loud, I'm coming back in here and I'm finishing what I started."
The door slammed shut behind Jare, leaving me alone with the man who had turned my life into a psychological thriller.
Keifer didn't wait. He didn't use a word trap or a smug smirk. He crossed the room in two strides, his arms wrapping around me so tightly it felt like he was trying to fold me into his ribcage.
"I'm not leaving you, Mrs. Watson," he murmured against my hair, his voice thick with emotion. "You can hit me again. You can throw every vase in this house at my head. But I am not letting you go."
I didn't hug him back. Not yet. I just stood there, my face pressed against his chest, listening to the frantic rhythm of his heart. "You're still an asshole, Keifer," I sobbed.
"I know," he whispered. "But I'm your asshole. Infinitely."
"Go to your house, Keifer," I said, my voice barely a whisper but as heavy as lead. "I need time."
I didn't look at him. I couldn't. If I looked at those red-rimmed eyes or the bruise I'd personally gifted his jaw, my traitorous heart would start making excuses for him again.
Keifer froze. The arms that were wrapped around me like iron bands didn't loosen immediately; if anything, they tightened for a split second, a desperate, silent no vibrating through his chest and into mine.
"Jay-Jay..." he rasped, his voice sounding raw, like he'd been swallowing glass.
"I mean it, Keifer," I said, finally finding the strength to push against his chest
time, I didn't use fire or rage—just a cold, hollow exhaustion that seemed to catch him off guard more than a punch ever could. "You just told me my whole life is a lie. You told me my mother isn't my mother, and that you—the guy I'm supposed to marry—spent months treating me like a chess piece to hurt my own brother."
I looked up then, my vision blurring with fresh, hot tears.
"I can't just work my way out of this one. Not tonight. I need to breathe without you taking up all the air in the room."
Keifer's jaw tightened, the muscle jumping under the skin where I'd hit him. He looked like I'd just reached into his chest and physically stalled his heart.
"I understand," Keifer whispered, the words sounding hollow, like they were being torn out of his chest one by one.
before he turned toward the balcony, he reached out. His hands were shaking slightly as he cupped my face, his thumbs wiping away a fresh stray tear.
He leaned down and kissed me.
It wasn't the hungry, possessive claim from before. It was a soft, lingering touch against my lips—a kiss that tasted like a goodbye and a promise all at once. It was the kind of kiss that said, 'I'm letting you go because you asked, but I'm never leaving.'
I didn't pull away. I couldn't. Even with my head spinning and my life in pieces, my body still recognized his touch as its only anchor.
When he pulled back, his eyes were dark, heavy with a grief that matched my own. He didn't say another word. He just stepped away, his shadow retreating toward the balcony door.
Click.
The sound of the latch was like a final punctuation mark. He was gone.
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Hey everyone 🤍 I just need to clear something up about my book Forgotten Love (JAYFER).
I did NOT delete it. It suddenly says "This work is currently hidden." I didn't touch anything, so I'm not sure why it happened 😭
I think we should just give it a little time. Sometimes Webnovel glitches and the story comes back on its own.
But if it still doesn't work by today, I'll delete the story and make a new one, then repost all the chapters again so you guys can continue reading 🤍✨
Thank you for being patient with me 😭💗