4. MARCUS
CHAPTER 4
MARCUS
The phone rests between my ear and shoulder, and I’m smiling, an honest-to-God smile I haven’t felt in days. Jill’s voice crackles through the speaker, animated and full of life as she tells me about her week.
“So you really scored a hat trick?” I say, smiling at the thought of my twelve-year-old sprinting across the soccer field. “That’s amazing, kiddo. I bet the other team didn’t know what hit them.”
“They didn’t, Dad,” Jill says, breathless with excitement. “Coach said it was the best game we’ve had all season. I wish you could’ve seen it.”
“Me too,” I reply, and it stings more than I expected. I picture her in her bright green jersey, blonde hair flying behind her as she charges the goal. The video clips her mom sends don’t do it justice. “You know I’d be there if I could.”
“I know,” she says softly, and that’s when I hear it—just the smallest crack in her voice. “Maybe you can come to the next one? It’s the semifinals.”
I swallow hard. “I’ll do my best, Jill. You know I will.”
There’s a pause, a quiet little inhale that tells me she’s smiling on the other end. Moments like this—getting to be her dad, even from a distance—are what I live for. I wish I could be there in person, wish I could pick her up after school and see her playing with my own eyes instead of just hearing about it through a phone line.
“When can I come visit you, Dad?” she asks, the hopeful question slipping into our conversation.
I start to answer, but then I hear it—my ex-wife, Rachel’s distant but sharp voice, cutting through the background noise. Jill’s voice lowers. “Mom says I have to give her the phone now…”
There’s a shuffling sound, a reluctant “Bye, Dad,” and then Rachel’s voice fills the line, cool and businesslike.
“Marcus,” she says, and I brace myself for what’s coming. “We need to discuss the support payments. They’re late again.”
I keep my voice calm. “They’re not late, Rachel. I’ve been sending them directly to the court since you insisted on doing it that way. I sent the last one on time.”
She sighs, like she’s heard this all before and doesn’t believe a word of it. “Well, there’s still the issue of Jill’s school trip,” she says, her tone leaving little room for argument. “She needs an extra hundred dollars for it.”
I want to argue. We already agreed on these expenses. But Jill’s hopeful little voice is still fresh in my mind, and the thought of her missing out because of some bureaucratic delay twists my stomach.
“Fine,” I say, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. “I’ll wire it over. But I need you to let me know about this stuff a little earlier next time, Rachel.”
There’s a brief silence on the other end, a beat of surprise that I even pushed back a little. But she recovers quickly, murmuring a curt “Thank you,” before ending the call without another word.
I sit there, phone still pressed to my ear, the empty dial tone droning in the background. I don’t know how it happened, how it got to this point, where every conversation with Rachel feels like negotiating a deal in court. I went from being a husband and father, with a family and a future, to this…
I had a life I was proud of once, or at least I thought I did. A family, a career where I made a difference, using my skills to help people understand themselves, understand each other.
But somewhere along the line, it all slipped through my fingers. The long hours, the years of sacrifice—all of it took a toll, one that I’m still paying off piece by piece, dollar by dollar. And now, here I am, trying to rebuild something new with Ethan and Jax on a WeTube channel of all things, half a lifetime away from where I thought I’d be.
I pull up outside Ethan’s building, the sound of my truck’s engine echoing against the worn brick walls.
The scent of burning leaves and distant city traffic filters through the open window as I park and kill the engine. I grab my jacket from the passenger seat and make my way to the entrance, the stairwell creaking under my weight as I take two steps at a time. We’re supposed to brainstorm for the next round of videos, though I’m not sure how much help I’ll be today. Still, I need the distraction.
When I reach the door, I raise my hand to knock, but before I can, it swings open. And standing there, in a loose t-shirt that dips low on her collarbone, is a woman I never expected to see.
It’s Olivia Chase.
I blink, caught off guard, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve shown up at the wrong place. But no, this is definitely Ethan’s door. Olivia looks just as shocked, her green eyes wide, but the surprise fades quickly, replaced by a slow, knowing smile.
I just stand there, blinking, taking her in for a second. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that barely brushes her knees and looks… well, gorgeous. Since I last saw her, she's filled out, the kind of curves that pull the eye and give a man reason to linger. Her blonde hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, and those green eyes of hers—sharp, playful—land on me with surprise before she collects herself, arching an eyebrow in that way she always used to.
"Marcus?” She recovers quickly, folding her arms, but there's a flicker of something in her eyes—recognition, maybe something else. “Well, this is unexpected.”
“Olivia,” I say, just as stunned. “I’d say the same thing. What are you doing here?”
She shrugs, a slight grin lifting the corner of her mouth. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Her tone is teasing, but I can’t ignore the curiosity biting at the back of my mind. I look past her, half-expecting Ethan to be hovering somewhere nearby. “Wait—are you and Ethan…?”
Her eyes widen for just a fraction of a second before she laughs, shaking her head. “Oh no, no. We’re not dating or anything, if that’s what you mean. I mean, he’s cute, but…” She waves it off, trying to keep the amusement in her eyes, though there's something more there, too.
I feel myself relax, oddly relieved, even though I don’t have a good reason to be. “I see,” I say, adjusting the collar of my shirt. “It’s just… I never expected to see you here, of all places.”
She laughs, the sound rich and a little husky. “Small world, huh?”
I can’t help but chuckle, shaking my head. “You could say that. What brings you to Ethan’s place?” I glance behind her, half-expecting to see Ethan coming up behind her. “I didn’t realize you two were… close.”
Her eyebrows shoot up, and she grins, catching the implication immediately. “Oh no, it’s not like that. We just ran into each other earlier today. Turns out we’re neighbors.”
“Neighbors?” I echo, still trying to wrap my head around the situation. “You live in this building?”
Olivia nods, stepping back to let me in. “Moved in last week. Needed a change of scenery.” She leans against the doorframe, crossing her arms casually, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—curiosity, maybe, or something a little warmer.
“Small world, indeed,” I say, stepping inside. I look around for Ethan, but the living room is empty, save for the scattered remnants of his usual chaos.
“I guess it’s been a while. You were my mom’s therapist for a good few years, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah, I was,” I say, feeling a sudden wave of nostalgia and, maybe, a touch of guilt. Her mother had been a complex case, and it had taken everything I had to help her through her grief after the divorce. It didn’t help that her ex-husband passed away shortly after that.
But it feels like a line I shouldn’t cross, not now, not with Olivia standing here in front of me like this—a woman, not a girl I used to know.
“You were a big help to her,” she says softly, almost like an afterthought. “Even if she never said it enough.”
I swallow, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “Your mom was—is –a strong woman,” I say, meaning every word. “I just helped her see it.”
Olivia looks down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, it was more than that. She always said you had a way of getting people to open up. Guess that’s why Ethan wanted you on board with this Love Lab thing.”
I raise an eyebrow, feeling a flicker of amusement despite myself. “Ah, so you know about that disaster already.”
“Oh, I know enough,” she teases. “Ethan was just trying to sell me on the idea when you showed up. Not sure if I’m convinced yet.”
I step into Ethan’s apartment. The place is a mess, as usual—guitar cables snaking across the floor, takeout containers piled high on the kitchen counter. It’s got that faint smell of something burnt, which I assume was Ethan’s attempt at cooking earlier.
She shifts, crossing her arms casually, but there’s a flicker of something behind her eyes, like she’s waiting for me to say something. It’s a bit surreal, this moment—like I’ve been thrown back a decade. The last time I saw her, she was a teenager, barely out of high school, hovering in the corner of her mother’s therapy sessions. She’s different now. Grown up, confident.
“So, Marcus,” she says, breaking the silence with a small, amused smile. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Just surprised,” I say honestly, scratching the back of my neck. “It’s been a long time, Olivia.”
“Liv,” she corrects gently. “Nobody calls me Olivia anymore.”
I nod, taking that in. “Alright. Liv.” It feels strange, saying her name like that. Like I’m talking to someone entirely new.
I glance toward the hallway, wondering where the hell Ethan disappeared to.
“So,” I say, clearing my throat, “Ethan thinks it’s a good idea for you to get involved with the channel?”
Her eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of annoyance there. “You don’t?”
“It’s not that,” I lie, but my hesitation must be obvious. “It’s just… this project isn’t exactly your thing, is it? From what I remember, you were in the city building a tech empire.”
“Do you keep in touch with my mom?” she asks.
“Sometimes she calls me,” I admit.
She nods. “People can change, Marcus.”
“Fair point. But still…”
“Still,” she echoes, her voice softer now, almost serious. “You don’t think I belong here.”
It’s not a question, and I don’t deny it. The truth is, I’m not sure why she’d want to get involved. I mean, she’s got her own company, a whole life built somewhere else. This feels like a detour for her, and detours can be risky.
I open my mouth to respond, but just then, the door swings open again, and Ethan strolls back in, balancing a tray of mugs. “Sorry about that,” he says, grinning like he’s just solved world hunger. “Coffee’s here. Freshly brewed, just like you like it, Marcus.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking a mug from him. “I was just catching up with Olivia. I didn’t realize you had asked her to join us.”
“I know, isn’t it great? I thought she’d be perfect. Fresh perspective, solid background in game design. Plus, we could use a little star power.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Of course, he’s already convinced she’s the missing piece to our sinking ship. I can see it in his face—the kind of reckless optimism that usually ends with us tangled in some mess.
“Here we go,” he says, setting the coffee down on the table. “Marcus, just how you like it. And Olivia, I’m guessing you’re a black coffee type?”
She smirks, taking a mug. “Good guess. I’ll take whatever’s the strongest.”
“See? Perfect fit already,” Ethan says, grinning as he settles back in his chair.
Ethan’s living room feels crowded, even though it’s just the three of us. I can’t shake the surprise of seeing Olivia Chase here, standing casually by the window, sipping her coffee like it’s no big deal. She looks over her mug, catching my eye with a small smile, and I quickly turn to Ethan, trying to focus on why I’m here.
I can’t deny the immediate pull of attraction I felt when she opened the door. It’s ridiculous, really—I was her mother’s therapist, for God’s sake. But Olivia’s no longer the shy girl who used to sit in the waiting room with her headphones on, avoiding eye contact.
I’m about to speak up when the door opens again, and in walks Jax.
He looks between the three of us, his brow furrowing just a little. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” he says, nodding at me before he spots Olivia. His eyes widen slightly, and he gives her a polite smile. “Uh, hi. I didn’t realize we had company.”
Ethan grins, leaning forward. “Jax, meet Olivia. She’s considering a little… involvement in our project.”
Jax steps forward, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Olivia. I’m Jax, by the way. Uh, welcome, I guess.”
Olivia blinks at me. “Hello? You seriously don’t recognize me?”
Jax’s smile drops a bit. “What?”
“I’m Heather’s best friend,” she says. “We met a couple of times before.”
“Olivia,” he says slowly, realization finally dawning on him. Jax can be a bit of a jock sometimes, a little full of himself. “You’re the one staying at the apartment.”
“Yep, that would be me,” she says.
“And what brings you here?”
“Well,” she says glancing around. “Ethan’s been talking up this whole Love Lab thing, trying to rope me in.”
“Right,” Jax says, still looking a little bewildered. He glances between me and Ethan as if he’s missed the punchline to a joke. “So… you’re in marketing, or something?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Not quite. I run a video game company. Ethan thinks I might have some useful ideas for your channel.”
Jax raises his eyebrows, impressed. “A game company? That’s awesome. Guess we could use some pro input around here.”
“Maybe,” she says, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “But I haven’t decided yet if I’m up for it.
I shoot Ethan a look, suppressing a sigh. “It’s more that this is a… well, let’s just say it’s not exactly what you’d call a stable business model.”
“Aw, come on, Marcus,” Ethan says, grinning. “Where’s the faith? Olivia here’s got the brainpower to give us a boost.”
Jax clears his throat, catching Ethan’s eye. “I get the idea, but… are we really sure about this? No offense, Olivia,” he adds quickly, glancing at her, “it’s just that the Love Lab’s kind of… a lot to dive into.”
She laughs softly, lifting her mug. “Trust me, I’m getting that impression.”
Jax leans against the arm of the couch, studying Olivia with a thoughtful look. “So, you’re going to help us? How exactly does that work? Are you consulting, or…?”
Ethan jumps in before Olivia can answer. “I asked her to join the experiment itself.” He glances at me, clearly excited. “We need someone fresh on camera, and Olivia could be the perfect addition. Plus, she’s offering to help with funding ideas, so it’s a win-win.”
I blink, not bothering to hide my reaction. “Wait— no, she’s not doing that,” I say, a little more sharply than intended.
Olivia raises an eyebrow, turning to me with a look somewhere between annoyance and amusement. “What, you don’t think I can handle it?”
I shake my head, folding my arms. “It’s not that. I just don’t think you realize what you’d be getting into. This isn’t like… like pitching a game concept or managing a team. It’s more personal than that and way more unpredictable.”
Ethan waves a hand dismissively. “Come on, Marcus, loosen up.”
I feel a wave of protectiveness come over me, which is insane because I barely know her anymore.
“If you think I don’t know how unpredictable things can get, you clearly haven’t seen the chaos my team creates on a daily basis. I’m not afraid of a little mess.”
I frown. “You really want to do this? Be in front of the camera?” I ask.
“Look, I didn’t agree to anything yet,” she says, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “But I’m here to help however I can. If it means being part of the show, then maybe I can do that. You might want to give me a little credit, Marcus. I can handle it.”
Uh oh. I realize what I’ve just done.
Jax looks between us, seeming entertained by the back-and-forth. “Well, as long as she knows what she’s signing up for,” he says with a shrug.
“Yeah, I mean it doesn’t have to be a regular thing, you know?” Ethan says. “She’ll be in front of the camera for just one episode at best.”
I’m still not sure about it. But Olivia is looking at me defiantly. I know she’s not going to back down now.
“Hey, if she’s game, I say we give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?” Jax says.
“Famous last words,” I mutter, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
Ethan claps his hands together, practically beaming. “Perfect! We’ve got ourselves a new star. Olivia, welcome to the Love Lab.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “This is either the best idea I’ve ever had or the absolute worst. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”