For the next few days, the mansion seemed to revolve around Jay—but not in a dramatic way. Not in a spoiled way. In a quiet, careful, protective way.
From the moment she woke up each morning, she was surrounded by gentle hands and soft voices.
Keifer never left her side. He hovered just close enough to tease her lightly, but always ready to help the moment she needed it. If she got up to grab anything, he was there first, sliding it into her hands or carrying it himself.
Serina made sure her meals were comforting and nourishing, adjusting flavors just the way Jay liked them. Every sip of tea, every bite of toast, was served with a smile and a kind word.
Keizer kept his watchful eye from a distance, quietly making sure the household moved around her needs. If Jay looked exhausted, he quietly sent someone to help or brought her what she required without her asking. Even small gestures—dark chocolate on her bedside table, a soft blanket over her shoulders, a warm scarf for her neck—reminded her she was cared for.
The younger boys, Keigan and Keiren, were surprisingly gentle. They tiptoed around her moods, letting her have her quiet moments without disturbing her peace.
And Jay noticed how everyone adjusted—never making jokes about her sulking, never teasing her for her quietness, never asking her to do chores or even small tasks. The mansion itself seemed to bend around her comfort.
Even when she tried to sneak up and do something herself, Keifer intercepted quietly. "Nope," he would say, soft but firm. "Not today. You rest. I've got this."
At night, he stayed close, sometimes brushing her hair back, sometimes holding her hand while she drifted off to sleep.
Jay realized, slowly, that it wasn't just physical care—it was the attention to her feelings, the way every word was chosen with thought, the way every movement in the house protected her peace. She felt wrapped in love. Safe.
By the end of the week, her body felt better, her mind lighter, and her heart full.
When the day finally came that her period was over, she felt a small pang of loss—not for the discomfort, but for the constant, gentle care she had received.
It had been a week where every glance, every touch, every word reminded her that she wasn't just part of this family—she was deeply loved, protected, and cherished.
And most of all… she knew Keifer would never let her be alone, not in her sulks, not in her weaknesses, not ever.