Caught in the Act

JAY-JAY POV

Keifer's arm was around me. My head was on his shoulder. We weren't saying anything. Just breathing. Just existing.

It was quiet. Soft. Almost peaceful.

Then the door opened.

Jare walked in.

He froze.

Keifer didn't move. I didn't either.

Jare blinked. Once. Twice.

Then—

"Oh," he said. Flat. Sharp. Deadly.

Keifer straightened. Too late. Way too late.

"Jare," I said, sitting up. "It's not—"

"Not what?" he asked. "Not you cuddling with the guy who calls you 'wifey' every five minutes?"

Keifer opened his mouth. Jare raised a hand.

"Nope. Don't speak. I'm processing."

I sighed. "Can you not go full twin rage right now?"

Jare crossed his arms. "I'm not raging. I'm observing. Quietly. While mentally preparing a shovel."

Keifer coughed. "I'm not scared of you."

Jare smiled. It was terrifying.

"You should be."

I groaned. "Can we not do this? I just agreed to fight for my life. Can I have one cuddle without a death threat?"

Jare's face softened. Just a little.

"You said yes?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm gonna fight."

He walked over. Sat beside me. Didn't speak for a moment.

Then—

"I'm proud of you," he whispered. "And I still hate him."

Keifer grinned. "I love you too, brother-in-law."

Jare narrowed his eyes. "Keifer, I gave you permission to date. Not marry my sister."

Keifer didn't miss a beat. "Yet."

I smiled. Without meaning to. Without realizing it until it was already there.

Jare saw it. Of course he did.

He didn't laugh. But he didn't leave either.

He walked over, slow and deliberate, like he was deciding whether to punch Keifer or hug me.

Then he sat. Right beside me. On the other side.

Now I had Keifer on my left. Jare on my right. And a heart that felt too full and too fragile all at once.

"You really said yes?" Jare asked, voice low.

I nodded. "Yeah."

He didn't speak for a moment. Just stared at the floor like it might give him answers.

Then—

"I'm proud of you," he said. Quiet. Raw. Like it cost him something to say it.

Keifer didn't speak. For once.

I looked at both of them. At the boy I loved. At the boy who'd been my other half since birth.

"I'm scared," I whispered.

Jare reached for my hand. Keifer didn't let go of the other.

"We are too," Jare said. "But you're not doing this alone."

"Keifer, can I have a moment with my sister?" Jare asked.

Keifer nodded. Didn't argue. Didn't joke.

The door clicked shut.

We didn't say anything. For what felt like forever.

Just silence. Just the hum of machines. Just the weight of everything I hadn't said.

"So," Jare finally said. His voice was low. Tired. "Were you ever planning to tell me?"

I stared at the blanket. At the IV in my arm. At the way my fingers trembled.

"Never," I said.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

"Why?" he asked. And his voice cracked. Just a little. Enough to make my chest ache.

"Because of this," I whispered. "I didn't want to see you like this."

Jare looked at me. Really looked. And I hated it.

Hated the way his eyes filled. Hated the way his jaw clenched like he was holding back a scream.

"You're my twin," he said. "You don't get to protect me from this."

I swallowed hard. "Jare—"

"No," he said. "You don't get to decide what breaks me. You don't get to carry this alone."

I blinked. Tried to breathe.

"I didn't want you to look at me like I was already gone," I whispered.

He stood. Walked over. Sat beside me.

"I never did," he said. "I never will."

"I never did," he said. "I never will."

I stared at him. At the boy who shared my face. My history. My heartbeat.

And then— I broke.

The tears came fast. No warning. No control.

I tried to speak. Tried to say something. Anything.

But all that came out was a sob.

Jare didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate.

He pulled me into his arms. Held me like he used to when we were kids. When the world felt too big and we only had each other.

His shoulders shook. I felt it. Felt the way he tried to stay strong. Failed.

He was crying too. Quiet. Raw. Like it hurt to let it out.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," I whispered.

"I'd rather see you like this," he said, voice breaking, "than not see you at all."

We stayed like that. Two halves of the same storm. Crying into each other. Holding on like the world might end if we let go.