control
1381 Words
By midday, I realized something wasn’t right.
It wasn’t obvious.
Nothing dramatic.
Just… off.
The kind of feeling that creeps in quietly and refuses to leave.
At first, I ignored it.
Focused on work. Meetings. Emails. Numbers.
Anything that could keep my mind from drifting back to the house.
To Mathew.
To everything waiting for me there.
But then the calls started.
---
“Kemi, why was the supplier meeting moved?”
A pause on the other end.
“Ma… I thought you approved the change.”
“I didn’t.”
Another pause.
“Sir said you did,” she replied carefully.
Sir.
Of course.
I leaned back slowly in my chair.
“Reschedule it,” I said calmly. “And next time, confirm with me directly.”
“Yes, ma.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone for a second longer than necessary.
Then it rang again.
---
“Ma, the budget files you requested—finance said they’ve been reassigned.”
“To who?” I asked.
Another hesitation.
“Sir.”
My jaw tightened.
“Send me whatever you have,” I said. “Now.”
“Yes, ma.”
---
By the third interruption, it wasn’t a coincidence anymore.
It was deliberate.
Precise.
Controlled.
Mathew wasn’t shouting.
He wasn’t arguing.
He was doing something worse.
He was reminding me exactly where I stood.
---
The door opened without a knock.
I didn’t need to look up.
I already knew.
“You look busy.”
His voice was calm.
Almost pleasant.
I kept my eyes on the file in front of me.
“I am.”
He stepped further into the office, closing the door behind him.
Soft click.
“That’s good,” he said. “Keeps you occupied.”
I finally looked up.
“What are you doing, Mathew?”
He tilted his head slightly.
“Working.”
“Don’t,” I said quietly. “Don’t play games with me.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“I don’t play games, Elena.”
“Then explain why my approvals are being overridden.”
He walked closer.
Unhurried.
Confident.
“Because they can be,” he said simply.
Something hot rose in my chest.
“This is my department.”
“And this is my company.”
The words landed exactly the way he intended them to.
Sharp.
Final.
I held his gaze.
“We both run this place.”
He shook his head slightly.
“No,” he said. “You manage it. I own it.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Real.
“I won’t repeat myself again,” he added calmly. “Stay in your lane.”
My fingers curled slightly against the desk.
“And if I don’t?”
He smiled.
Slow.
Measured.
“Then I remind you.”
A pause.
“You’ve already started,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “That means you’re paying attention.”
---
He turned to leave.
Then stopped.
Like he had remembered something.
“Oh,” he added, glancing back at me. “Try not to bring personal issues into work. It makes you… emotional.”
My expression didn’t change.
But something inside me did.
---
The door closed behind him.
And for the first time since morning—
I let myself feel it.
Anger.
Not the loud kind.
Not the kind that makes you react without thinking.
This one was quieter.
Colder.
The kind that sits in your chest and waits.
---
I stood up slowly and walked to the window.
From up here, everything looked small.
Controlled.
Predictable.
People moving without knowing who was pulling the strings.
For years… I had been part of that system.
I thought I understood it.
I thought I had power.
But now—
Now I saw it clearly.
I was never meant to have control.
Only enough to feel useful.
Never enough to be free.
---
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Come in.”
Morgan stepped in slightly, her expression careful.
“Ma, the school just called.”
My heart dropped instantly.
“Noah?” I asked.
“He’s fine,” she said quickly. “But… they said he got into a fight.”
Everything in me stilled.
“A fight?”
“Yes, ma.”
I didn’t wait for anything else.
I grabbed my bag immediately.
“I’m going there.”
---
The drive felt longer than it should have.
Every second stretched.
Every thought worse than the last.
Noah didn’t fight.
He was quiet.
Gentle.
Too gentle, sometimes.
So what changed?
---
By the time I got there, the school compound was calm.
Too calm.
Like nothing had happened.
I walked straight into the office.
No hesitation.
No pause.
No patience.
---
Noah sat in one of the chairs.
Small.
Still.
His head slightly lowered.
My chest tightened instantly.
“Baby,” I said softly.
He looked up.
And for a second—I saw it again.
That same distance.
But this time… something else was there.
Confusion.
Guilt.
Maybe even fear.
I walked over quickly.
“Are you okay?” I asked, kneeling in front of him.
He nodded.
“I’m fine.”
I brushed my fingers lightly against his cheek.
“Did anyone hurt you?”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
He hesitated.
Then looked down at his hands.
“I was just… talking,” he said quietly.
“To who?”
“A boy in my class.”
“And?”
He swallowed.
“He said… daddy doesn’t like you.”
My heart stopped.
Just for a second.
Then everything rushed back at once.
“And what did you say?” I asked carefully.
“I told him that’s not true,” Noah said quickly. “But he kept talking.”
My chest tightened.
“What did he say?”
Noah’s voice dropped.
“He said daddy has another woman.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
Not because they weren’t true.
But because of who was hearing them.
A child.
My child.
“And you fought him?” I asked gently.
He nodded.
“I pushed him.”
I exhaled slowly.
Part relief.
Part pain.
“You don’t fight people like that, okay?” I said softly.
He nodded again.
“I know.”
A pause.
Then he looked at me.
Directly this time.
“Is it true?” he asked.
The question came quietly.
But it carried everything.
I opened my mouth—
Then closed it.
Because suddenly…
I didn’t know what to say.
How do you explain betrayal to a child?
How do you tell him his father is breaking everything… without breaking him too?
“Elena.”
The voice cut through the room.
I didn’t need to turn.
Mathew.
Of course.
He walked in like he belonged there.
Like he owned the space.
Like he owned everything.
Including this moment.
“Noah,” he said calmly. “Come here.”
My body stiffened instantly.
Noah hesitated.
Then slowly stood up.
And walked to him.
That movement—
That small, simple movement—
It did something to me I wasn’t ready for.
Mathew placed a hand on his shoulder.
Protective.
Calm.
Controlled.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Noah nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Sir.
Not daddy.
Sir.
But still—
He went to him.
Not me.
---
Mathew looked at me then.
And there it was again.
That look.
That quiet victory.
He didn’t say anything.
He didn’t need to.
Because in that moment—
I understood something clearly.
This wasn’t just about me anymore.
It never was.
He wasn’t just fighting to keep me.
He was positioning himself.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Strategically.
---
And Noah—
My chest tightened—
Noah was already standing in the middle of it.
Whether he understood it or not.
---
As we left the school together, I walked slightly behind them.
Watching.
Thinking.
Feeling something shift deep inside me.
Something colder.
Sharper.
More dangerous than before.
Mathew wanted control?
Fine.
He could have it.
For now.
Because if there was one thing I understood clearly in that moment—
It was this:
You don’t fight power head-on.
You break it quietly.
---
And for the first time—
I stopped reacting.
And started planning.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD