Page 114 of Impulse Control
I would be ahead of the game.
And for a while, it worked.
I felt useful again.
I felt in control.
I felt nothing at all.
Later, lying in bed with Dominic’s sweater pulled up around my shoulders, I thought about the girl on set. Her accent. The cactus. The way she’d smiled at me without asking me to explain myself.
I thought about how easy it would be to see her again.
No history. No expectations. No one waiting on the other side of an ocean.
Just a moment.
Just now.
My phone was on the nightstand.
I picked it up before I could talk myself out of it.
Opened Dominic’s name.
Hit record.
“Hey,” I said softly, keeping my voice low even though no one else was there. “I know it’s stupid, but it’s… kind of crazy here already. I keep thinking I hear you in the kitchen.” A small laugh slipped out before I could stop it. “I miss you.”
I stared at the waveform for a second after I finished. My own voice looked too exposed in that little blue line. Too honest. Too much.
I imagined him listening to it in some quiet hotel room or airport lounge, pausing his life because I couldn’t handle the echo of mine.
I hit delete.
Told myself it sounded needy.
Told myself he didn’t need that from me.
I set the phone back down, rolled onto my side, and stared at the wall. Sooner or later, the sweater would stop smelling like Dominic. Especially if I kept wearing it and laundering it.
So I hugged his pillow and closed my eyes. I needed to sleep and if that meant pretending, then I’d do that too.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
RACHE
The next week arrived like a blockbuster — loud, crowded, and impossible to escape — everywhere I went, I had to stand in line, but I told myself it was worth it.
Granted, there was no swelling music, no apology speech, no grand moment where René admitted he’d been wrong to doubt me. Just an email that hit my inbox at 06:12 with a call time, an address, and two clipped words that might as well have been forgiveness.
Be ready.
I read it twice anyway, as if the second time would reveal the subtext I needed to survive the day.
I told myself it meant he was over it. That my mistake had been filed away undercorrectedandnot repeatedanddon’t do that again.
