My Toxin

Chapter 31

Marjorie was fast asleep, her breathing steady as she lay curled up on the couch in one of my oversized T-shirts. The glow from the fireplace softened her features, making her look so peaceful it hurt to think about how much pressure she was constantly under. I brushed a stray braid away from her face, letting my fingers linger for a moment before I stood up and grabbed my phone.

I didn't want to disturb her, but I couldn't let another day go by without doing something. Heading into the kitchen, I dialed her dad's number, my jaw tightening with every ring. He picked up on the third.

"Alex," he said, his tone curt. "It's late. Is everything alright?"

"Not really, Mr. Okeke," I replied, my voice steady but firm. "I need to talk to you about Marjorie."

There was a pause on the other end, the kind that made it clear he wasn't thrilled about this conversation. "What about her?"

"She's under too much pressure," I said bluntly. "The tutoring sessions, the academic demands, the expectations—you're burying her under it all. She's burnt out, and it's not fair. She's nineteen, for God's sake. She needs room to breathe, to live."

His tone turned cold. "Alex, this is a family matter. I appreciate your concern, but Marjorie is—"

"With all due respect," I interrupted, my voice sharpening, "this isn't just a family matter anymore. I'm the one watching her struggle, the one holding her when she's too overwhelmed to function. She's exhausted, Mr. Okeke. And if you care about her well-being, you'll stop piling onto her plate."

The silence on the other end stretched long enough that I almost wondered if he'd hung up. But then he sighed, a sound that surprised me. "What are you suggesting?"

"Cut out the tutoring sessions," I said immediately. "She doesn't need them. She's more than capable of succeeding without someone breathing down her neck every week. Let her focus on what's important to her, not what you think should be."

Another pause, then a begrudging, "Fine. I'll talk to her mother about it. But I expect her to keep her grades up."

"She will," I said, my tone softening. "Thank you, sir. This means more to her than you know."

When I hung up, relief coursed through me, but I couldn't shake the lingering anger. Marjorie deserved so much better than the pressure they put on her. I just hoped this was the start of some real change.

The next morning, Marjorie sat cross-legged on the couch, sipping her coffee as she scrolled through her phone. She looked more relaxed than usual, probably still riding the high from our weekend in York. I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to break the peace, but she deserved to know.

"Marjorie," I started, setting my mug down on the table.

She glanced up, her brows furrowing slightly at my tone. "What is it?"

"You're not going to tutoring anymore," I said simply.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What? Alex, I can't just stop—my parents—"

"Your parents agreed," I cut in, holding her gaze. "I talked to your dad last night. I told him it was too much, and he listened. You don't have to go anymore."

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. "He... agreed? Just like that?"

"Not just like that," I admitted with a small smile. "It took some convincing. But I made it clear that this wasn't negotiable. It's too much Marjorie and they trigger your panic attacks."

For a moment, she just stared at me, her expression unreadable. Then she set her coffee aside and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around me. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You didn't have to do that."

"Of course I did," I murmured, holding her tightly. "I'll always do what's best for you, even if it means pissing off your dad."

She laughed softly, the sound easing something in my chest. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"Unbelievably in love with you," I quipped, earning another laugh.

That afternoon, as Marjorie worked on some Debate Society prep, my phone buzzed with a call from my dad's PI. Stepping into the other room, I answered quickly.

"What do you have for me?" I asked, already bracing myself.

"It's worse than we thought," the PI said, his voice grim. "I found multiple reports from former students. Emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, relentless pressure. One student even attempted suicide because of his methods."

My stomach twisted. "You're sure?"

"I have testimonies and documentation to back it up," he confirmed. "I'll send everything over to you now."

As soon as the email came through, I skimmed the files, my anger growing with every line I read. This man had no business being around students, let alone someone as vulnerable as Marjorie.

Without wasting another second, I forwarded everything to the police, attaching a note urging them to take immediate action. When I hung up, a sense of satisfaction settled over me. The tutor was finished.

I didn't tell Marjorie about the PI's findings, not yet. She didn't need that on her plate right now. But as I watched her later that evening, her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked on her laptop, I felt a sense of relief knowing that one more burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

She looked up at me, catching my gaze. "What?"

"Nothing Princess," I said, smiling softly. "Just thinking about how amazing you are."

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curved into a smile. "You're such a marshmallow ."

"You're marshmallow ," I countered, earning a laugh.

And as the evening wore on, I focused on making her laugh, she deserved the world and I would give it to her.