Page 79 of Impulse Control
There was something about the way she existed in my life right now—unanchored, undefined—that felt… safe. No expectations. No story attached. Just a series of glances and half-conversations that belonged only to us.
This—whatever this pocket of possibility was—still floated. For once, I wasn’t in a hurry to pin it down. The shoot pulled me back in. Lights adjusted. Assistants moved. René gave me a look that meant pay attention.
I did.
Mostly.
But every so often, I caught her in my periphery—leaning against a wall, listening more than speaking, her expressionthoughtful in that way that made me wonder what she saw when she looked at the world.
Or at me.
By the end of the day, we hadn’t spoken again.
No texts.
No follow-up.
Just the shared knowledge that we existed in the same orbit, and that neither of us had closed the door.
As I packed up my camera, I realized something that surprised me.
I wasn’t chasing her.
I wasn’t waiting for her either.
I was just… letting her be where she was.
And somehow, that felt like the most honest version of myself I’d discovered yet.
From Rachel’s Diary:
Short one tonight.
Work was chaos. Three shoots, one reschedule, René deciding at the last minute we needed to cross the river because “the light is wrong.” The light was not wrong. René just felt like moving. Saw that model again. She’s a fun kind of mystery
I finally made the appointment at the clinic.
Birth control. The doctor talked for twenty minutes about options and side effects and hormones like she was describing menu items. I picked one that might stop my periods entirely. That felt like cheating somehow. Like removing a monthly reminder that I’m human.
Dominic seemed happy when I told him.
Not weird happy. Just… relieved.
I like that I did something to make him smile. Yes, I’m the weird one. I know.
Chapter
Sixteen
RACHEL
Isaid yes three times before I realized I hadn’t doublechecked my calendar even once. The problem wasn’t that I was too busy. The problem was that I’d stopped noticing what I was agreeing to.
It hit me standing in my kitchen, coffee cooling in my hand, rain streaking the window like it had somewhere more important to be.
Dominic was arriving in four days.
René had me booked solid through the weekend.
