Chapter 10
Rowan
The atmosphere of the café faded into background noise as I rubbed at my temples and stared at the unfinished lesson plan on my laptop. The cursor blinked at me and just sat there. Waiting. Mocking. Judging me for not getting anything done.
I'd spent the entire day bouncing between half-finished drafts and scattered outlines, trying to get ahead before the school year started in two weeks. But no matter how much I worked, I couldn't concentrate on anything.
I leaned back with a sigh and stretched my arms over my head to work out the stiffness in my back. The exhaustion felt bone-deep and heavy in a way that made it hard to think straight.
Across from me, Marcus flipped a page of his newspaper. The sound was sharp but unhurried. He didn't look up when he spoke. "You're thinking too hard again."
I let out a tired breath. "Yeah, well. Comes with the job."
That finally earned me a glance. He folded the paper and set it aside, head tilted slightly as he studied me. "You haven't touched your coffee."
I looked down. Honestly, I'd forgotten it was even there. The cup sat beside my laptop, still full and probably very cold.
Marcus reached for his tea and gave it a quick stir before taking a sip. "You've been stretched too thin lately." His tone was light and came off as more observant than concerned. "I'd hate to see you burn out before the term even starts."
I pulled off my glasses and rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the fog from my head. "It's always like this at the start of the year. Nothing new."
His fingers tapped lightly against his mug. "Still. You've got enough going on without piling on extra stress."
"You say that like I have a choice."
"You do." He leaned in to rest his arms on the table and gave me a pointed look. "You just don't like asking for help."
I frowned. Where was he going with this? "It's my job, Marcus. I can’t hand it off to someone else."
"I'm not talking about work. I mean everything else. You've been running yourself ragged, and I don't want you stressing about money on top of that."
That was an odd pivot. "I'm not – "
"You said your pay was lower last month. And last time we talked, you weren't even sure if you'd break even."
That was ... meant as a passing comment. A vague complaint, really. Just something I'd noticed in my account and hadn't looked into yet.
I shrugged. "It's probably taxes. Or pension stuff. You know how it goes."
"Exactly. You don't even know what it is."
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. I hadn't thought it was serious. Just annoying. But now that he’d brought it up...
I straightened a little in my seat. "I'm not bad with money, Marcus."
"I didn't say you were. But you don't pay attention to the details. Little things stack up fast, and half the time, you don't even realise it's happening."
I mean ... he wasn't wrong. I didn't like thinking about money more than I had to. I paid my bills and kept a general idea of where I stood, but I didn't comb through statements and track every transaction.
Marcus did, though. He always knew where every quid went. It was his job, after all. Numbers made sense to him in a way they never did to me.
I let out a slow breath and leaned forward to rest my chin in my hand. "Okay, but what do you want me to do about it? I can't exactly ask for a pay rise."
"You don't have to do anything. I can take care of it."
I frowned. "Take care of it how?"
"We set up a joint account. I can manage your payments, figure out where the issue is. You won't even have to think about it."
My brain caught up a little too late. "Joint account?"
He gave a small, reassuring smile. "It makes sense, doesn't it? You're already juggling too much. This way, I can make sure nothing slips through the cracks."
Well... It sounded logical. He was good with money. And we'd talked about the future recently, so it wasn't totally out of nowhere.
Still, I hesitated. "That's a big step. I mean, that's – "
"Just smart. You trust me, don't you?"
"Well, yeah. Of course, I do. It's not that."
He reached across the table, brushing his fingers over the back of my hand. "Then let me do this for you. We're in this together, right?"
I sighed, my fingers twitching beneath his. The idea still didn't sit right... But I could've just been overthinking again. Marcus always had a plan. He knew what he was doing. And he was right. I was stretched too thin. If this took one thing off my plate, then it could only help.
Finally, I nodded. "Yeah... Okay. That makes sense."
His smile widened, and his fingers tightened briefly around mine before he pulled back. "Good. You won't regret it."
I forced myself to smile back. The unease in my stomach was just exhaustion. That's all.
It had to be.
* * *
I ended up at Marcus's flat again without thinking much about it.
The days had started to blur together lately.
School prep, nonstop emails, Marcus reminding me to slow down if I didn't want to tire myself out.
The joint account conversation had come and gone, absorbed into the week with everything else.
I sat curled into the corner of the sofa, my legs tucked under me as I scrolled absently through my phone. I should've been finalising lesson plans, but my brain refused to focus on anything. Mindless scrolling was all I had in me today.
Marcus came out of the kitchen with two glasses of wine. He handed one to me, then settled next to me on the sofa.
"Thanks." I gave the drink a lazy swirl before taking a sip. I didn't even really like the taste of it, but the warmth that came after was a welcome distraction.
A notification lit up my phone. I tapped it without thinking – and then realised it came from the bank: Withdrawal: ￡25.47.
That quiet unease from earlier in the week started to creep back in. It wasn't a large amount. Nothing to panic over. But we hadn't really talked about when he'd use the joint account or if he'd check with me first. Granted, he didn't exactly need my permission, but...
My thumb hovered over the screen. I didn't know how to react.
Marcus reached over to let his fingers brush lightly over my knee. "What's up?"
I tried to keep my tone even. "Just got a bank alert. Did you use the joint account?"
He blinked, then gave a soft hum like he was trying to remember. "Oh, right. One of your bills was close to overdue. Meant to tell you. Sorry." He downed the last of his drink and leaned forward to set the empty glass on the coffee table.
That didn't quite make sense. What bill would've been ￡25? My phone? No, I paid that last week. Internet? Maybe the price changed? But I never got a notice.
His hand slid up my thigh with easy familiarity, his touch slow, coaxing. "Relax. We're sharing finances now. It's meant to take the pressure off."
Good point. That's the whole reason I agreed, wasn't it?
I sighed, rolling my shoulders to try to shake the tightness building in my chest. "Yeah. I know. It's fine. Just still getting used to it."
His smile widened as his fingers traced slow, deliberate paths along my leg. Then he leaned in to close the space between us. Before I could respond, his lips brushed against mine.
It was easy to kiss him back. To let him pull me closer and let the weight of the past week fade into the background. The notification sat silently on my phone, dimmed and momentarily forgotten.
Marcus eased back first, his lips curling into a small and satisfied grin as his fingers slipped through my hair. "Hold that thought." He pressed one last kiss to the corner of my mouth before getting to his feet. "If I don't start dinner now, we'll cave and get takeaway again."
I stayed on the sofa, still caught in the haze of warmth and distraction, and watched him move around the kitchen for a few minutes. But once the quiet settled, my eyes drifted back to my phone.
That bank notification wouldn't leave me alone.
I told myself I was blowing it out of proportion. Yet before I could stop myself, I unlocked my phone and tapped the banking app. The login screen blinked at me, and I entered my details automatically.
Red words appeared: Incorrect password. Try again.
I frowned. Did I mistype it? I tried again, slower and more deliberate this time.
Incorrect password. Try again.
A prickle of unease crawled up the back of my neck. I always used the same login. I never changed it.
Unless...
I glanced toward the kitchen. Marcus had his back to me as he moved easily between the counter and the stove. Relaxed. Focused. Unaware of the cold creeping panic taking hold in my chest.
I didn't want to assume the worst. I didn't want to be that guy. But the thought had already taken root.
I tucked my phone into my hand and forced my voice to stay light. "Hey, Marcus?"
"Hm?"
"Do you know if the bank website's having a problem? It's saying my password's wrong."
"Oh. Yeah, I changed it."
My heart stuttered. He didn't even hesitate to say it.
He turned to glance at me over his shoulder, completely unbothered. "When I logged in, it said the old password expired. Did I not give you the new one?"
I shook my head, trying to make sense of the casual tone.
Marcus didn't forget things like that. He was meticulous, especially when it came to money.
Always on top of every detail. He remembered deadlines, appointment times, the exact way I made my coffee.
So how did he forget something as basic as a password handoff?
His smile came easily as he turned his attention back to the stove. "I'll text it to you later."
I looked down at my phone again. I tried to tell myself it was nothing. Marcus was human. Maybe just this once, he actually slipped up. He'd send the password. I was overthinking again.
But the reassurance felt thin.
Still, I didn't say anything else about it. I just closed the screen and tossed the phone aside. My eyes slipped shut as I pulled in a few steadying breaths, trying to ease the prickling sensation I couldn't quite shake.