Money Heist // t.h.

4 - Then

As perfect as the beginning may have been, a few months into your relationship, you had realised something was wrong. That Tom was definitely hiding something from you. Well, you had a hunch about it. There were the secretive phone calls in the middle of the night, the meet-ups "with his friends" he wouldn't talk to you about... of course, your mind had gone to the worst-case scenario, that he was cheating on you. A few arguments had erupted from those accusations, but it wasn't enough of a reason for Tom to tell you what was going on.

That should have been your sign to leave. To pack up and go. Your clear exit to get off the highway. But you stayed. Not even because you believed you could forget about it and make it work. No, fuck that. Your stubbornness would not have let you leave it as it was. You needed to know what was happening.

So, one day when Tom had told you he was off to meet up with his friends, you had decided to just follow him. Not really sure what to expect. It could have been anything. You could have ended up at the outskirts of town, breaking up some weird drug deal, or you could have banged on his motel room door as he was fucking his side chick.

But none of that happened.

Instead, you had followed him outside of town to a storage facility. It was there that you found him, with his friend Harrison and his brother Harry. At first sight, it seemed like you had encountered a crime investigation. Whiteboards filled with information, red strings connecting it all. Around them, boxes with...things.

Except, it wasn't an investigation. The whiteboards were filled with plans, plans for their own crimes.

It had taken them a moment to realise they had an audience. The three men looked at you, almost terrified, as you stared back at them with that same fear. It was too much to take in. You were stepping back in terror. You would have run away if it wasn't for the fact that you had frozen in shock.

"Fuck, y/n," Tom got up from his chair, got to you, and quickly pulled you away from everything.

"What, what is all this?" you tried to stay calm, but there was no way to hide the anxiety you were feeling. You had seen it all. The intel, the stolen goods, the guns. Yet there he was, Tom, standing right in front of you, holding your trembling hands. It didn't make any sense.

"It's not what it looks like, I promise."

"Bullshit, Tom. Do you really think that low of me?" Your gaze shot up to his eyes. They were filled with panic. To have gotten caught in the act, most likely. Expecting that you would rat him out now to the cops.

"I fucking knew it," you said, stepping away. "I fucking knew it!"

"What?" He didn't even attempt reaching out for your hand again.

"I knew that Rolex wasn't a fucking inheritance." You pointed at his wrist, where the shiny watch was wrapped around. Like a child with a stolen cookie, he hid his hand behind his back, not wanting to give you any more evidence of his wrongdoings.

"I promise, I wanted to tell you."

You ignored his statement, asking your next question, "do you even know how to fix a car? Or was literally everything you told me a lie?" You should have known better. There was no fucking way a mechanic could afford the shit he bought sometimes. But he had always managed to tell you he had just used some of the money from his parent's inheritance. How stupid could you have been, honestly?

"I have never lied to you. I promise." He stepped toward you again, his words and posture conveying pure desperation for your attention. "The only reason I did not tell you, is because I was scared you would leave me. Or that it would bring you into danger. I can not lose you. I just can't. Please believe me."

"Well, I'm here now, so you better tell me everything or else I'm walking out that door and you'll never see me again." As scared you may have been of this new revelation, you wanted to know what was going on. Maybe out of all the choices you had made in this relationship, this had been your downfall. Perhaps you should have just walked away and forgotten about Tom, about what you had seen that day, but you couldn't. Something, possibly fear, had glued you to the cement ground of that damned storage facility.

"y/n-" He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to pull you into any of it. But it was too late for that. You had gotten caught in his web of trouble the second he spoke to you at the bank counter.

"I'm serious. You tell me what the fuck it is that you and Dumb and Dumber over there are doing right now."

He begged you with his eyes not to make him, but you didn't listen. So, he told you everything. How it all had started years ago, in high school. When they were just three kids off the street, getting high off the adrenaline and risk that petty theft, pickpocketing and shoplifting bought them. Then, as they got older, they had realised that they were actually good at it. That they could make some serious profit out of it. And so, the planning and the preparation came in as they started to rob bigger places. The more Tom told you, the more you began to connect the dots.

The Robinson Jewel theft...

You clutched onto the silver charm necklace he gave you for your birthday.

"I'm sorry, okay. I understand if you want to leave." He said as he finished his story. The regret was evident in him, which you appreciated, but it wasn't enough. Your grip on your necklace got tighter as you tugged at it. The clasp dug itself into the back of your neck, but it stayed put.

"I can't do this."