Who Did I Sleep With?

CHAPTER 7

The sharp, rhythmic drilling of my alarm dragged me out of sleep. I stirred, reaching blindly across my bedside table until my fingers finally brushed the cold glass of my phone. I silenced the noise with a soft groan, dropping my hand back onto the mattress as silence reclaimed the room.

For a long moment, I didn’t move. The morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow across the space. It wasn’t bright—just enough to sharpen the familiar silhouettes of my life. My room was small, but carefully arranged. The bed sat flush against the wall, its white sheets rumpled from a restless night. Above me, a narrow shelf held a few books I’d promised myself I would finish but never did. Across from the bed stood a simple wardrobe, and near the window, my dressing table.

Everything was in its place. Everything… except me.

I sat up slowly, blinking away the lingering weight of sleep. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the covers aside and headed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I emerged dressed in a fitted blouse tucked into a knee-length skirt. Standing before the mirror, I gathered my hair into a neat, disciplined bun. I secured it with a silver clip, smoothing down stray strands until I looked presentable.

I reached for my jewelry case, flipping the lid open with practiced ease. My hand hovered, then stalled. My brows furrowed as I scanned the compartments.

Necklace. Bracelet. Other earrings. But not those.

I leaned in closer, my heart giving a small, erratic thud. I checked the dividers again. Maybe I’d been careless? I shifted the trays, moving rings and chains aside as if they would magically reveal the hidden prize. They didn’t.

The earrings weren’t just any pair. They were delicate silver teardrops, and they held more meaning than almost anything I owned. They had belonged to my mother.

I was absolutely certain I’d worn them recently. I straightened slowly, my mind racing backward. The party. I went still. I had worn them that night. I remembered the weight of them as I’d adjusted them in the mirror before leaving. But after that… everything blurred into a haze of music and shadows.

“I brought them back… didn’t I?” I murmured to the empty room.

The question hung in the air. I scanned the floor, the bedside table, the rug—nothing. A cold unease settled in my chest. I checked the time and immediately let out a frustrated groan.

“I don’t have time for this.”

With a sharp exhale, I reached back into the case and grabbed a pair of smaller, less noticeable hoops. They felt wrong, but I snapped them into place anyway. Grabbing my bag, I took one last look at my reflection. I looked "put together," but something felt off. I couldn’t tell if it was the missing jewelry or the fact that I still couldn’t remember the night I lost them.

When I reached the office building, I avoided the elevators. It had been two days since my panic attack, and the thought of an enclosed space made my chest tighten. I turned toward the stairs. One step at a time, Stella. Literally.

The lobby was quiet. The receptionist didn't look up from her monitor. “Morning,” she droned.

“Morning,” I replied, already heading toward the stairwell.

By the time I reached the top, I was regretting my caution. My breathing was ragged and a light sheen of sweat had formed at the back of my neck. I paused for a second to catch my breath. “Okay…” I muttered. “Maybe the elevator wasn’t such a bad idea.”

I pushed the stairwell door open. The cool office air was a sharp, welcome contrast to the warmth of the stairs. The space was hushed, the rhythmic clicking of keyboards the only soundtrack to the morning. I walked to my station and set my bag down, trying to settle in. My system was still booting up when a voice cut through the quiet.

“Stella.”

I turned. Noah was standing just outside the meeting room, looking effortlessly composed. His sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows, his posture relaxed but commanding.

“Yes, sir,” I said, standing a little straighter.

“Bring me the campaign draft you said you were amending.”

I blinked. “Alright, sir.”

He didn’t say anything else; he just turned and walked into his office. I frowned as I pulled up the file. I’d already sent this draft to Daniel. Why was Noah asking me directly? He could have easily asked Daniel for the update.

A few minutes later, I stood before his door and knocked softly.

“Come in.”