( keifer pov )
I wasn't even looking for her.
But there she was—Jay—standing near the lockers, laughing softly at something a boy was saying. He held a notebook, leaning a little closer, and she… she looked so relaxed, so happy.
My chest tightened. I tried to tell myself it was fine. That it wasn't my business anymore. But seeing her smile like that—like I didn't exist—hurt more than I
expected.
"She's just helping him with homework," Adrian muttered, noticing the tension in my shoulders.
Yeah, I knew that. But it didn't matter. I didn't want someone else seeing her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she enjoyed something. I wanted that to be for me. Only me.
Without thinking, I walked toward them. Adrian groaned behind me.
"Keifer… don't," he warned.
Too late.
I stopped right in front of them, hands clenched at my sides. My chest felt tight, like it might crush me.
Jay's eyes met mine, sharp and cold. "What do you want?" she asked.
"I… I don't know," I admitted, my voice quieter than I meant. That was the worst part.
The guy stepped back, awkward. "Uh… we were just—"
"Don't," I said softly, more to myself than him.
Jay's gaze never left mine. "Seriously, Keifer. This isn't about you anymore."
Her words hit me like a punch. My chest twisted. I hated that I had hurt her. Hated that my mistakes were keeping me from her smile
I closed my eyes for a second, trying to steady my voice. When I opened them again, I whispered, "I know… I know I don't have the right to even talk to you like this. I just… seeing you laugh like that—it… it makes my chest ache."
Her expression faltered just slightly. Not much. Just a flicker. A shadow of the girl who once cared about me. Then it was gone, replaced by her usual coldness.
I swallowed hard. That tiny moment was enough to make my heart ache and hope at the same time. Enough to remind me… even if she's strong and independent now, I still can't stop caring about her.
Jay's eyes narrowed. "I said, this isn't about you."
I nodded, trying to respect her space, but my hands itched to reach for her. My heart wanted to call her name, to tell her everything I'd done wrong
Because even if she's cold, even if she wants to be independent, I realized… I have to try. Somehow.
( back at home )
The door clicked shut behind me, but it didn't block out the ache. Not even a little.
I sank onto the edge of my bed, head in my hands, and finally let it all out.
I hated myself. Hated every word I'd said. Every fight I'd started. Every moment I'd made her feel small, unimportant… like she didn't matter.
She did matter. More than anything in the world. And I… I had let her slip through my fingers because of my own stupidity. My own pride.
" I'm so fucking sorry " I whispered into the quiet room, my voice cracking. "I never meant to hurt you. I… I wasn't thinking. I was selfish. I—"
A shuddering sob cut me off. I buried my face in my hands, my body trembling.
"I don't deserve you," I choked out. "Not now. Not ever. You're stronger than I am. You… you're amazing, and I—"
I couldn't finish. The tears came faster, stinging my eyes, soaking the sleeves of my shirt.
Every memory of her—every laugh, every soft glance, every little thing I'd taken for granted—hit me like a knife.
"I ruined it," I whispered. "I ruined us. And I… I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know if I can. But I… I can't stop loving you."
I closed my eyes, wishing desperately for just one chance. One chance to tell her how much she meant. One chance to make her see that I had changed.
One chance to… make it right.
But for now… all I had was the ache. The regret. And the unbearable, endless truth:
I had lost her. And it was all my fault.