Eli13
Eli
I didn't sleep much that night. I kept thinking I'd missed some important detail buried in all the polished answers and picture-perfect PR.
But I didn't have much to work with outside of that deleted comment and Tom's confirmation that Rowan wasn't acting right.
None of it really told me who Marcus was.
And the more I looked at the same sterile interviews and company fluff, the more it seemed the man was just smoke and mirrors.
I had a few things I had to do the next day. Stuff I'd already committed to before all this happened. But as soon as I was done, I planned to find Rowan. Talk to him face to face and see for myself that he was okay. Hopefully without Marcus standing over his shoulder.
I'd held off long enough. I couldn't wait for Rowan to come to me anymore. I wouldn't make that mistake again.
I spent the morning trying to focus on what I'd promised to do.
A local flower shop was putting out some new items and needed a few shots for their social media pages, and the owner wanted to catch up with me a little bit.
I hadn't planned to stay in town this long, so I didn't have my usual camera gear, but my phone did the job well enough.
The whole time, my mind kept drifting back to Rowan. I kept hoping a message would come through and interrupt the photoshoot. It didn't happen, of course.
"Elias, these are great!"
I blinked and looked up when Mrs Caldwell's voice cut through my thoughts. She stood behind the counter, flipping through the shots I'd just finished taking for her. The photos practically took themselves, but the smile on her face made it feel like I'd actually done something useful.
I managed a smile in return as she handed my phone back. "I'm glad you like them. I'll send them over when I get home. Feel free to use them however you want."
She shook her head with a warm smile. "You didn't have to do this for free, you know. You've got bills to pay, too."
"It's no trouble. I'm just happy to help."
She gave me one of those looks. Gentle, but too perceptive for comfort. I saw that same look on her face quite a lot when I was a kid. "You've been in town a while now. I thought you were based in London?"
I forced a smile. "I am. Just needed a change of pace."
Her eyes lingered a moment longer, but she eventually nodded and dropped the matter. "Well, if you bump into Rowan, tell him to come by. I haven't seen him in a long time."
I fought to keep my expression neutral as I turned to leave. "Yeah. I'll let him know."
I stepped out into the street and started walking in the direction of my hotel. The late morning was calm and quiet, and I welcomed the space to think. I planned to go to my room to regroup for a bit and then head back out to look for Rowan.
I couldn't stop replaying every possible version of how the conversation might go.
What was I even going to say to him? Especially if Marcus was anywhere nearby.
I couldn't keep tiptoeing around this and wait for the perfect moment.
If Marcus was always glued to Rowan's side, I was going to have to find a way around him.
Still, I couldn't just show up and demand answers. Rowan had been pulling away for a while, so I needed to be careful how I handled this. And ideally, I needed to catch him when he was alone. Which seemed impossible lately.
But one way or another, I had to figure this out. Today. Before it got worse.
I turned a corner off the main road and stopped short.
Rowan had just stepped out of a small clothing shop across the street, his bag slung over his shoulder. His posture was hunched, his movements slow and tired. He looked drained. But it wasn't just that.
He was wearing a turtleneck.
Rowan hated turtlenecks. He always said he couldn't stand the feeling of anything snug around his neck because it felt like he was being strangled.
Yet there he was, tugging at the sleeves on one to pull them as far down as they would go.
He didn't look comfortable and lowered his head as he stepped out onto the pavement.
I started toward him before I could think better of it. "Rowan!"
He flinched. Not the kind of startled you get when you're caught off guard. This was sharper. His head snapped up, and he just stared at me. Eyes wide behind his glasses. His whole posture tightened.
It only lasted for a split second before he collected himself. He straightened a little and gave a vague nod, as if he were greeting a stranger on the street. Not his best friend.
Once I was closer, I could really see him.
He looked like he hadn't slept in days, the kind of exhaustion that left a person worn to the bone.
His usually neat appearance was off, and his hands kept twitching.
His posture was all wrong, too. Way too tense and guarded.
Through all of it, he was clearly trying to hold himself together.
Something was wrong. Really, deeply wrong.
"Didn't think I'd see you today," I said, softer this time. I tried to keep my tone steady, even though my pulse had kicked up fast.
He blinked, as if his mind was still trying to catch up. "Yeah. Just... I had to get a few things."
His voice made me pause. It sounded tight. Hoarse, even.
His eyes flicked to the ground, then back to me. "I thought you were going back to London."
I watched him carefully. "Still here. I leave tonight."
He gave a small nod, but it felt off. He didn't really seem to be listening. He kept fidgeting with the strap on his shoulder, then rubbed one hand with the other like he couldn't get it warm. And he wouldn't meet my gaze.
Then his sleeve slid back a little as he moved. My stomach dropped at what I saw.
The skin at his wrist was swollen and raw, marked with cuts and bruising that looked fresh. It wasn't the kind of injury that came from bumping into furniture or taking a fall. It looked like something had dug in and held tight.
Rowan noticed where my eyes had gone and immediately tugged his sleeve down to cover the injury. He seemed to realise, though, that he hadn't acted quickly enough to hide it.
"Rowan," I said softly, "what happened to your wrist?"
The way he averted his eyes told me he was already pulling into himself. "Nothing. I just – I hit it on something. Don't worry about it."
I didn't buy it. Rowan had always been a bad liar, and right now, his body language told me more than his words ever could.
My concern rose by the second. I wanted to press him for answers, but I had to be careful how I did it. "Ro, come on. That's not nothing. What happened?"
He tensed. "I told you, it's nothing. I just banged it against my desk yesterday." His tone was harsher now. Defensive. But he wouldn't look at me, and he kept pulling his sleeve down. Like if he kept it covered, I'd quit asking.
I hesitated, fighting to stay calm even as my mind raced through a hundred different possibilities. "If something's going on with Marcus... You can tell me."
His jaw tightened. His hands fidgeted again, and he looked like he wanted to run. But then he blinked hard and straightened. Whatever cracked through for that split second vanished behind a wall. "I'm fine, Eli. I don't need you worrying about me." He said it too quickly. Too flat.
"Rowan – "
"I have to go. I'm late for a meeting at school. I'll talk to you later." And just like that, he turned and walked away from me.
I stood there and watched him go. He didn't look back.
Every instinct in me screamed to follow, to grab his arm and make him listen. To say whatever it took to get him to stand still long enough to tell me the truth. But I didn't. Because that guarded expression on his face told me exactly how far I'd get with that approach.
Still, it felt wrong. So wrong to just let him leave. Everything about that conversation made me uneasy. How fast he shut down. The marks on his wrist. That damn turtleneck.
Whatever he was trying to hide, it wasn't "nothing."
I forced myself to turn away, but every step back toward the hotel felt heavier than the last. I told myself to give him space, that maybe I'd still pushed too much. He said he had a meeting at school. Maybe he'd call me afterwards.
But sitting with that hope didn't help.
I couldn't stay still when I got back to the room.
I spent most of the next hour pacing, trying to shake the nerves that had settled in my gut.
My mind kept looping back to Rowan's appearance.
His face tight and pale, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled down his sleeve.
The way he flinched when I called out to him.
I knew Rowan. That wasn't work stress. It had to have something to do with Marcus. Nothing else made sense.
Minutes dragged. I checked the clock. Again. And again. I told myself to wait for at least an hour. Give him time to do whatever he had to do at the school. But I couldn't stop thinking about those marks. His exhaustion. The way he wouldn't meet my eyes.
And I was supposed to go back to London tonight. If I let this go, I wasn't sure I could live with it.
I was out the door before the hour was up. I needed to talk to him. Now. Something was scaring him enough to lie about it. And I couldn't stand by and do nothing.
* * *
The school came into view as I rounded the corner, and something twisted in my chest.
It had been a while since I'd set foot in that place.
Years, actually. I came back for a quick visit when Rowan first started teaching there, and that was it.
I didn't stay long back then, just to see the space he'd carved out for himself.
Now, walking toward the entrance again, everything felt heavier.