Chapter 116
Chapter 116
Jace woke with a sharp gasp, his body jerking upright before his brain even understood why. A stabbing pain shot across the inside of his skull, it was hot and pounding mercilessly. His vision blurred at the edges, his mouth dry as sandpaper. He blinked, groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut as he pressed a shaky hand to his temples.
A hangover.
A brutal and unforgiving one.
He exhaled slowly, trying to breathe past the nausea. He could not remember drinking that much. He remembered the bar. Morgan. Talking—too much talking. The weight of guilt sliding off his shoulders for a brief moment in the haze of alcohol. Then…
His breathing faltered.
Then what?
His eyes cracked open again, focusing this time. The sheets were twisted. His shirt was on the floor. And someone’s arm—someone’s warm and bare arm was draped over his waist.
Jace froze.
No....
No, no, no—
He turned slowly, dread thick in his stomach, heart hammering so hard it rang in his ears.
Morgan was lying beside him.
Asleep.
And very, very shirtless.
Jace’s entire body went cold.
“What did I do?” he whispered, voice breaking.
The memories trickled back in fragmented pieces, the drive home....the front door closing behind them..... the way Morgan had steadied him....the stupid warmth in Jace’s chest, the soft dark of the hallway… then lips, hands, heat—
Jace’s stomach twisted violently.
He scrambled out of bed so fast he almost tripped. His foot caught on the carpet, he steadied himself against the dresser, and the sudden movement jolted Morgan awake.
Morgan blinked blearily, eyes unfocused. “Jace…?” His voice was rough with sleep. “You okay?”
Jace just stared at him, chest heaving. “Get up.”
Morgan frowned, sitting up slowly. He looked confused at first, then realization dawned. He looked around, the bed... the clothes... the mess of blankets and then his face reddened instantly.
“Shit,” Morgan whispered. “We… did we—”
“Yes,” Jace snapped. His voice cracked. “We did.”
Morgan looked stricken. “I am....Jace, I…”
“Get dressed,” Jace cut in, his breath sharp and uneven. “You need to go. Before anyone sees you.”
Morgan shoved a hand through his hair, his jaw tensing. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. He looked as embarrassed as Jace felt awkward, guilty and quietly horrified.
“Jace, we were drunk,” Morgan said softly, reaching for his shirt on the floor. “We were not thinking straight. It was not—”
“It was a mistake,” Jace said, harsher than he intended. “A huge one.”
Morgan nodded tightly. He seemed to shrink in on himself. “I know.”
Silence hung heavy between them as Morgan dressed. Jace forced himself to breathe, trying to calm the tremor in his hands. His head was pounding, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache cracking through his chest.
He had slept with Morgan.
He had slept with someone who was not Elias.
The shame was suffocating.
Morgan paused at the door. His voice was so quiet it barely carried. “I am... sorry.”
Jace did not answer.
Morgan slipped out of the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Jace collapsed onto the edge of the bed, fingers digging into his hair. He felt sick. Like something was rotting inside his chest. He braced his elbows on his knees and tried to breathe, but his breaths kept breaking.
“What have I done…” he whispered into the empty room.
He did not cry, he did not even have the strength. He just sat there, shaking, the guilt pressing down on him until he felt like he might suffocate.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand.
The sound cut through the silence like a blade.
He did not move from the spot.
It buzzed again… and again.
Slowly he reached for it with his hands trembling. When he saw the caller ID, his heart dropped into his stomach.
Elias.
Of course it was Elias.
Of course he would call this morning, today of all days.
The phone buzzed insistently in his hand.
Jace could not answer.
Not with Morgan’s presence still lingering on his skin.
Not with the imprint of last night seared into his memory.
Not with the guilt clawing at his throat like a living thing.
He let the call ring out.
The phone went silent.
A second later, it buzzed again.
Elias was calling back.
Jace’s chest tightened painfully. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the phone flat against his thigh, letting it vibrate uselessly against him.
He could not hear Elias’s voice and pretend. He could not lie.
He could not say he was okay when every part of him felt poisoned with regret.
He let the call go unanswered again.
The buzzing stopped.
Silence.
He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the wall. The guilt, the fear, the shame—it all swirled violently inside him, threatening to crush him from the inside out.
He pressed the heel of his hand against his mouth to keep the sound from escaping his throat...a broken, strangled noise that did not even feel human.
His phone buzzed again, but this time it was a text.
Elias:
Are you okay? You called the other day, was in a meeting.
Jace shut his eyes tightly.
The messages twisted the knife of guilt deeper. Jace was sitting here drowning in the consequences of his own weakness.
His own mistake.
His own betrayal.
He dropped the phone onto the bed like it had burned him and dragged both hands down his face.
He did not know how to fix this.
He did not know if it could be fixed.
He did not know how to speak to Elias now....how to even look at him or tell him about this.
His heart twisted painfully.
He had hurt him.
And the worst part?
Elias didn’t even know it yet.
The sunlight leaking through the curtains felt too bright, too harsh, like it was exposing every secret Jace was trying to hide. He curled forward, elbows on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair.
His hangover throbbed behind his eyes.
His chest tightened again. The phone buzzed once more.
A final message.
Elias:
Why are you ignoring me?
Jace let the phone go dark besides what would he tell Elias. He sat in the silent room, alone with the pounding headache, the tangled sheets, and the crushing weight of one of the worst mistake he had made in years.