Chapter 11: Loss of Control Part 1
1173 Words
[Gabriel's POV]
I didn’t remember falling asleep.
I just remembered the quiet afterward. The kind that feels heavy but not uncomfortable. Safe, almost. Like for once, my mind wasn’t running in a hundred different directions.
When I was woken up by my usual alarm, I quickly turned it off, before I turned to Julia.
She still seemed to be asleep, so I decided to let her rest a little longer, while I got myself cleaned up. We needed to talk, about what happened the night before, and about how she was feeling.
I got up and headed for the bathroom. I didn’t rush.
I never did, but this time it was more deliberate.
Even standing under the steady stream of water, letting it run over my shoulders, I moved through everything with the same controlled precision I applied to every other part of my life.
From a young age, I learned to always stay composed, and every decision I made always had to be carefully measured. That was the secret to staying on the top, to be... untouchable.
At least, that was what my father taught me, and what I still continued to tell myself, at least until last night.
The night before lingered at the edges of my thoughts, replaying everything that happened in fragments: Julia's voice, the way she had said my name, the way she had...
I stopped the thought, I couldn’t let myself dwell on it. Not yet. There would be time to assess. To think clearly.
That’s what I did best.
I moved through the room, picking up my watch, my shirt, each motion automatic, practiced.
Routine restores structure.
Structure restores control.
That was how it worked, how it had always worked, but my mind didn’t settle as quickly as it should have.
By the time I stepped out, dried off, and got dressed, my expression had settled back into something familiar.
The feeling of control, predictability, and that feeling equaled safety.
But the moment I walked back into the bedroom, something felt wrong.
It wasn’t obvious at first, but the way the room stilled around me, with no sound of movement, immediately started rubbing me the wrong way. It was too quiet.
My gaze moved to the bed, which was already empty, making me pause.
For a second, I didn’t react. My mind simply registered it, like it was another detail to file away.
Empty bed — Julia not present — Door slightly open, and then the realization finally hit me.
“Julia?” I called out, but there was no answer.
I stepped further into the room, slower, but more alert.
The faint crease in the sheets told me she had been there not long ago. The absence of her things told me she hadn’t planned to stay.
My jaw tightened, as I checked the other bathroom, then the hallway, but she was nowhere to be found.
She was gone, and just like that, control slipped.
It wasn’t visible. Not to anyone else, but inside, something sharp and immediately took hold.
Her leaving, without a word, without telling me, without... Anything.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my thoughts into order.
Objectively, it did make sense.
It was a complicated situation. Emotional. Unexpected. A one-night decision born out of circumstances neither of us had planned.
Of course, she left. Of course, she wouldn’t want to stay.
That was the logical conclusion, but logic didn’t answer the question tightening in my chest.
What is she thinking?
My hand dragged briefly over my face as that thought settled in, refusing to leave again.
Because I didn’t know, and not knowing, was unacceptable.
Does she regret it?
Did she wake up and feel ashamed? Hurt? Confused?
Or maybe even worse...
Does she feel taken advantage of?
My chest tightened at that.
No.
I replayed it, quickly, precisely. Every detail and every moment from the night before.
She had been present, responsive, and certain, but she had also been vulnerable, emotional, shaken, and hurt.
And from the outside... It wouldn’t matter what actually happened.
It would matter how it looked.
Me, who was older. In control, something I always was.
Having her, an eighteen-year-old girl, showing up at my door, freshly heartbroken.
Just the thought made my jaw clench.
If she spoke about it, or just framed it wrong, even unintentionally, it wouldn’t just become messy. It would become utterly damaging, to my name, my position, my family, to everything, and suddenly, the room felt too still.
Kyle
I reached for my phone without hesitation.
There was only one person I trusted enough to handle this without any complications.
The call connected quickly, but I didn't waste time on pleasantries, I didn't have that luxury.
“Kyle.”
The urgency in my tone created a small pause at the other end, before he finally spoke. “That’s not how you usually start a conversation.”
“I need you to find someone,” I said, ignoring his response, which immediately got his attention.
“Alright,” Kyle said, as his tone sharpened slightly. “Who?”
“Julia.”
It was followed by a short break, before he answered.
“Julia?” Kyle repeated. “That tells me nothing.”
“She’s Tyler’s girlfriend.”
Then another pause hit. Longer this time.
“And why exactly am I tracking down your nephew’s girlfriend for you this early in the morning?” he asked, clearly confused by my sudden request.
I didn’t answer immediately because, for the first time since the call began, there was a c***k in my composure. It was small and controlled, but nonetheless there.
“She was here,” I said finally.
Once again, my words were followed by silence, like he was trying to figure out what to do with it, before asking me to elaborate.
“Define ‘here.’”
My grip on the phone tightened slightly.
“She came over last night.”
Kyle didn’t speak or interrupt, which somehow only made it harder.
“And now she’s gone,” I continued. My voice was quieter but edged with something harder. “She left without saying anything. I don’t know where she is, and I don’t have her phone number.”
Then there was another pause. This time it felt more intense because we slowly started to narrow in on the real issue. When Kyle spoke again, his tone had changed completely. There was no humor, or lightness behind his words, just focus.
“Gabriel,” he said carefully, “what exactly happened last night?”
I closed my eyes briefly, and for the first time since I stepped out of that bathroom, I didn’t have a controlled answer ready, and Kyle noticed that. He always did.
The silence stretched just a second too long before he exhaled sharply on the other end.
“You slept with her.”
There was no question behind his words, just a clean statement, that he knew what had happened, so I didn’t respond to it. I didn’t need to.
- Writer
