Chapter 63 AWKWARD AFTER
Eli's POV
I woke up before I’m ready. Not because of noise or because someone touched me. I woke up because my body feels too aware of itself; heavy in some places, sore in others, it remembers things my head is trying not to.
I stayed still for a while.
The ceiling looks the same as always: clean, white, expensive in a way that doesn’t try to show off. My chest rises and falls slowly, and I focus on that because if I don’t, my mind starts drifting back to last night.
The way Julian had looked at me when I was crying. The way Anton had sucked Julian’s cock just to prove a point, just to show me something, and how my stomach had flipped in a way I still don’t know what to do with.
I sit up abruptly.
“Nope,” I mutter to myself. “Too early for that.”
I swing my legs off the bed and wince.
Okay. Maybe it’s exactly early enough for consequences.
I shower, the warm water helping a little, not enough. I brush my teeth and stare at my reflection longer than necessary. My eyes look normal. My face looks normal. Nothing about me looks like someone who cried themselves raw the night before or had their whole sense of self shaken up, and got rammed by two huge cocks after.
That feels unfair.
When I head downstairs, I hear voices.
Julian’s voice is calm, controlled. Anton’s is lower, lazy in tone but sharp underneath. They stop talking when they notice me, and that pause alone makes my stomach tighten.
Julian turns first. “Morning.”
Anton follows. “Hey. You okay?”
I nod too quickly. “Yeah. Just… tired.”
Julian studies me for half a second longer than polite, then gestures toward the dining table. “Sit. You didn’t eat last night.”
I flinch before I can stop myself. Anton notices but doesn't say anything about it.
“We made it light,” he says. “Nothing heavy.”
“I’m not—” I stop myself. Take a breath. “I’m not upset about food.”
Julian pulls out a chair for me anyway. I sit because arguing feels like too much work.
Breakfast smells good. Toast, eggs, fruit. Normal things. Domestic things. Things that don’t match how knotted I feel inside.
Anton pours juice and slides the glass toward me. Our fingers almost touch. I pull my hand back too fast as flashbacks invade my mind… Anton leaning in. His mouth brushing Julian’s hard cock. The way Julian grabbed Anton's hair. The obvious pleasure Julian was riding on… saying, See? This doesn’t make you dirty.
My face heats up.
“You okay?” Anton asks again.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically, then add, quieter, “Sorry. I’m just… my head’s loud.”
Julian sits across from me. “You don’t need to apologize for that.”
I poke at my eggs. “You say that, but everything feels weird now.”
Anton snorts softly. “Yeah. Welcome to the club.”
Julian shoots him a look. “Not helpful.”
Anton raises his hands. “I’m being honest.”
Julian sighs and looks back at me. “Nothing changed overnight, Eli. You didn’t break anything expensive.”
I swallow. “It feels like I did.”
Silence settles for some time…
Julian clears his throat. “I have to go into the office later. I pushed things back for the island escape.”
“Oh,” I say. “Okay.”
Julian stands up, straightens his sleeves, checking his watch. He hesitates, then steps closer and rests his hand on my shoulder.
“You don’t have to act okay for us,” he says quietly. “We can handle messy.”
I stare down at the table because if I look up, I’ll cry, and I don’t want him leaving with that image burned into his head.
When Julian leaves, Anton drops into the chair across from me at first, then drags it closer and sits sideways, facing me. “Come on. Eat. You barely touched your plate.”
“I will,” I say, even though I don’t.
He studies me for a moment. “You’re spiraling again. All that thinking, you're putting your head up to too much work.”
I huff weakly. “I am not thinking.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re bad at hiding it.”
I push my food around, then stop. “Can I ask you something?”
Anton nods. “Always dangerous, but sure.”
My throat tightens. “That thing you did. Last night. With Julian.”
His expression shifts— not defensive or smug as I expected. Just attentive. “Okay.”
“You did it on purpose,” I say.
“Yes.”
I swallow. “Why?”
“So you’d stop thinking there was something wrong with you.”
I laugh under my breath, sharp and humorless. “That didn’t work.”
“It wasn’t supposed to fix everything,” he says gently. “Just crack the door.”
“That door opened into a mess.”
Anton leans back, arms crossing loosely. “Feelings usually do. And I understand this is overwhelming for you, but you're already caught between two very selfish men with the sex drive of lust itself, and you're not coming out of it.”
“Please don't say that to me again.” and he just chuckles.
We sat there like that for a while. No TV or music. Just the low hum of the house and the sound of my own thoughts getting louder the longer they go unanswered.
I’m just starting to relax— just starting— when I hear the sound of heels clicking.
Anton sighs before I even turn.
The steps grow closer…
“Julian?” a woman’s voice calls out, dramatic and commanding. That voice… it's Julian's mom.
“Julian, we need to talk—”
She stops short when she sees us.
Her eyes move from me to Anton, assessing in a single glance.
Julian’s mother. I knew it.
My stomach twists, ‘cause I know she's about to make my morning worse.
And then I see who’s beside her.
The woman from the picture. The woman Julian kissed.
She's… elegant. That calm confidence, like she knows exactly how she looks standing here, right now.
Her gaze flicks to me, curious rather than apologetic.
My chest tightens so fast it almost hurts to breathe.
Anton mutters under his breath, “Well. That’s unfortunate.”
Neither of them say anything else.
And somehow, I knew this can't be anything pleasing. Julian's perfectionist mother, who passively hates my existence, here with the woman Julian kissed. This can't be anything good.