Chapter 4 – The Crack in His Control

INDIE

I stayed where I was, one hand resting against the wall for balance. 

My heart was beating too fast, but I forced my expression to stay blank.

Tristan didn’t move. He just looked at me like he was trying to decide what I was—someone broken who needed protecting, or someone dangerous who had already heard too much.

“I asked you a question,” he said quietly. “How much did you hear?”

I kept my voice even. “Enough to know you’re not happy about me being here.”

His jaw flexed. For a moment, I thought he might deny it. Instead, he slipped his phone into his pocket and walked toward me with slow, controlled steps. 

The closer he got, the harder it became to hold his gaze without reacting.

“Living under my roof comes with rules,” he said. 

“No questions about the past. No wandering around the house at night. And you don’t contact Jesper or Liora without telling me first.”

I let out a short, humorless breath. “That’s a lot of control for someone who’s supposed to be my boyfriend.”

Something flickered across his face. Almost too fast to catch. 

And underneath it, something hotter that he shut down just as quickly.

I took a small step forward. “If you’re my boyfriend,” I said, keeping my voice low, “why do you look at me like you want me gone?”

The air between us tightened.

Tristan stopped a few feet away. Up close, he looked even more exhausted than he had at the hospital, but the sharpness in his eyes hadn’t faded.

“Because this situation is already complicated enough without you making it worse,” he said.

“Complicated,” I repeated. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

He didn’t answer. He just watched me, like every second I stood there testing whatever restraint he was holding onto.

I should have backed off. I didn’t.

“You agreed to this,” I said. “You let him introduce you as my boyfriend. You brought me here. So either you’re helping him, or you’re using me. Which one is it?”

His eyes darkened.

“Be careful, Indie.”

The way he said my name sent an unwanted shiver down my spine. It was the first time it didn’t sound distant.

I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Or what?”

For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension was thick enough to feel. Then Tristan exhaled slowly through his nose and looked away, like he needed the break more than I did.

“Go back to your room,” he said. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

I hated how easily he dismissed me. Hated even more that part of me wanted to stay and push him further, just to see what would happen if that carefully controlled expression finally cracked.

Instead, I turned and walked away.

The guest room felt colder when I returned.

I sat on the bed for a long time, pulling my knees up, trying to ignore the restless energy under my skin. Tristan’s rules circled in my head. 

No questions. No wandering. No contact.

Which only made me want to dig deeper.

My eyes drifted toward the dresser across the room. It was sleek, modern, probably more expensive than most people’s cars. 

I hadn’t bothered checking the drawers earlier. Maybe I should have.

I stood up and walked over.

The first two drawers were empty. The third one stuck a little when I pulled it open. 

Inside was a small stack of old papers, a spare charger, and—half-hidden under a folded black cloth—a photograph.

I pulled it out.

It was me and Jesper.

We were smiling. His arm was around my shoulders, my head tilted slightly toward him. 

It looked normal. Happy, even. The kind of picture people kept to prove everything was fine.

My stomach tightened.

I turned it over.

Jesper’s handwriting was unmistakable. The same way he signed cards and notes when he wanted to look thoughtful.

There was a date written at the top.

Three weeks before the accident.

Below it, one line.

Soon this will all be over.

The words hit harder than I expected.

I sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, the photo still in my hand. My pulse was loud in my ears. 

Three weeks before the crash. Before I ended up in a coma. Before I woke up to a version of my life that no longer belonged to me.

What the hell did that mean?

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