Chapter 16: The Art of Losing Control

Travis's POV

Sophia Moreau doesn't know how to let go.

She doesn't know how to stop, how to rest, how to just be.

And I was going to make damn sure she learned.

Even if she hated me for it.

She lasted all of twelve hours before trying to work again.

I woke up to the sound of quiet footsteps and the faint click of a laptop opening.

Unbelievable.

I groaned, running a hand over my face before pushing myself up from the couch. The apartment was dark, except for the soft glow coming from her study.

I already knew what I was going to find.

And sure enough—there she was.

Sitting at her desk, her back to me, one hand resting against her temple while the other hovered over her keyboard.

She must have sensed me, because she spoke without looking up.

"Go back to sleep, Cole."

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Didn't take you for a rule breaker, Moreau."

She let out a humorless laugh. "You must not know me very well."

I exhaled slowly, stepping into the room. "You just got out of the hospital."

"I know."

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

She clenched her jaw, rubbing her fingers against her temple. "Fixing a problem."

"Fixing yourself would be a good start," I shot back.

She finally looked up, eyes flashing. "I can't just stop, Travis."

I took another step forward, planting my hands on her desk and leaning down.

"Why not?"

Silence.

She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the armrest of her chair.

I wasn't sure she even knew how to answer that.

So I did it for her.

"Because you don't know who you are without the work," I said softly.

Her breath hitched, just slightly.

And there it was.

The truth neither of us had said out loud yet.

She had built her entire life around this—this need to prove herself, this relentless drive to be more, to be stronger, to be untouchable.

And if she let herself stop—if she let herself be human—

She didn't know what was left.

Her voice was quieter now. "I can't—"

"You can," I cut in. "You just don't want to."

She scoffed. "And what, you think you're going to be the one to change that?"

I tilted my head, smirking slightly. "Looks like I already am."

Her lips parted slightly, but she had no response.

Because she knew I was right.

I pushed off the desk, straightening. "Come on."

She blinked. "What?"

"You heard me. You're getting out of this damn apartment."

She gave me an incredulous look. "Travis—"

"Nope," I said, grabbing her wrist and tugging her up. "No arguing."

Her body tensed. "I am not—"

"Yeah, yeah, you hate being told what to do. Guess what? I don't care."

She glared at me. "You are so—"

"Charming? Handsome? Devastatingly irresistible?"

She rolled her eyes. "I was going to say insufferable."

I grinned. "Same thing."

She sighed, rubbing her temples again. "I'm exhausted, Travis."

"Good," I said. "Because you don't have to think. You just have to follow me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Follow you where?"

I smirked. "You'll see."

She was still scowling when I pulled up to the waterfront.

The city stretched in front of us, the lights reflecting against the river, the air crisp and cool.

She glanced at me as I shut off the engine. "Seriously?"

I shrugged. "Figured you could use some air."

Her arms crossed. "Air?"

I arched a brow. "You've been locked in that apartment for four days. Humor me."

She exhaled, her head tipping back against the seat. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope."

Silence.

Then, finally—

She opened the door.

We walked along the water in silence.

I didn't push her to talk. Didn't push anything.

And for the first time, I saw something in her shift.

Not completely.

Not all at once.

But a fraction of the weight on her shoulders seemed to lift.

Her gaze flicked toward me. "Why are you doing this?"

I met her eyes. "Because you don't know how to stop punishing yourself."

Her breath caught.

She looked away.

We kept walking.

An hour later, we were back at her apartment.

She looked at me as we stepped inside, something unreadable in her gaze.

Something dangerous.

"I'm still not going to let you control my life," she murmured.

I smirked. "Never expected to."

She studied me for a long moment. "Good."

Then, to my complete fucking shock—

She turned and walked into her bedroom.

Without arguing.

Without trying to work.

Without fighting me.

And for the first time since I met her—

She let herself rest.

And I knew.

I knew.

This was only the beginning.