Chapter: The Dreams She Couldn't Escape
(Keif's POV)
The next day felt… quieter.
Too quiet.
The house was still filled with people — Aries pretending to scroll on his phone, Ci N acting normal but watching Jay every two seconds, Yuri standing near the balcony like a worried statue. But the loudness of yesterday was gone.
Jay was sitting beside me on the couch.
Silent.
Too silent.
Her fingers were cold in my hand. She wasn't talking much. Every few minutes she would just… drift away. Like her body was here, but her mind was somewhere dark and far.
I tightened my grip.
"Jay," I called softly.
She blinked. Forced a small smile. "I'm okay."
She wasn't.
I knew that smile. It was the same one she used when she wanted to protect others from her pain.
Later that evening, when everyone thought she was sleeping, I found her standing near my window.
The curtains were slightly open. Moonlight fell on her face. Her eyes were red.
She didn't notice me at first.
Her shoulders were trembling.
I walked slowly and wrapped my arms around her from behind.
She didn't resist.
She melted into me like she had been waiting.
And then—
She broke.
Not loud at first. Just soft, shaking breaths.
"I keep seeing it…" she whispered.
I didn't ask what.
I just held her tighter.
"My mom… in my dream…" Her voice cracked. "He was hurting her… there was blood everywhere… and I couldn't move. I couldn't save her. I was screaming but no sound was coming…"
Her fingers clutched my shirt.
"I hate her," she cried into my chest. "I hate her for leaving me. But why do I still feel scared for her? Why do I still care?"
Her tears soaked through my shirt.
I could feel every tremble in her body.
"She left me when I was fourteen, Keif…" she whispered. "She chose another man. She chose a new life. But in my dreams, I'm still that fourteen-year-old girl begging her not to go."
My heart broke.
Because this wasn't just a nightmare.
This was trauma.
And she was fighting it alone.
She buried her face deeper into my chest.
"I'm tired," she whispered. "I'm tired of being strong. I'm tired of pretending I don't care. I'm tired of acting savage so no one sees how scared I am."
I lifted her chin gently.
"You don't have to be strong with me," I said softly.
Her eyes filled again.
"Then don't leave," she whispered.
That sentence.
That tiny, fragile sentence.
It destroyed me.
I cupped her face.
"I'm not your mother," I said gently. "I'm not going anywhere."
She hugged me like I was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
And maybe I was.
She kept crying in my arms.
Quiet sobs.
Then loud ones.
Then silent tears again.
Every time someone walked past the hallway, she would quickly hide her face in my chest so no one would see.
She didn't want them to know.
She didn't want to look weak.
But in my arms?
She allowed herself to shatter.
And I let her.
Because sometimes love isn't about fixing the pain.
It's about being there while they fall apart.
That night, she finally fell asleep on my chest.
Even in her sleep, she murmured softly.
"Don't leave me…"
I stroked her hair gently.
"I won't," I whispered back.
And for the first time since all this chaos started…
I wasn't scared of losing her.
I was scared of the things still haunting her dreams.
And I knew one thing.
No matter how terrifying her nightmares were—
She would never face them alone again.