Drawn To You (GirlxGirl)

Part 2

Allie's P.O.V

I awoke the next morning to an empty space beside me. I rolled over and grabbed my phone to find the time. 9.07am, Mark will already be over an hour into his shift by now.

I had a few Facebook notifications, so I opened the app and seen that Mark had put up the same post he does every year.

'Celebrating another year with my beautiful wife' was the caption, and attached to it was a selfie he took of us while we walked home last night.  Both of us smiling like we were the happiest people in the world.

I felt guilty that I never posted anything from my own social media about him or our relationship, at least not in the last few years. But I always justified it by telling myself that surely only one of us needs to post and that it automatically appears on my page anyway.

The same friends and family members left their usual comments underneath the post, congratulating us on another year, saying we were a beautiful couple and blah blah blah. I gave the post a simple 'like'.  I hate social media.

I got myself ready for the day, headed downstairs and grabbed the mail on my way into the living room.

I had a letter from the university, which was unusual so I opened it first. It was a bill for the textbooks I was going to need for the upcoming term, the last year of my studies.

"£1500?" I said aloud, in a shocked and angry tone.

Mark would pay for them if I asked. He was adamant that I quit working when I decided to go to uni, telling me he wanted me to be able to focus solely on my studies. He seemed happy to be able to offer me that kind of financial stability and at the time I was happy too. But recently it felt like a prison cell, not being able to provide for myself and constantly having to ask whenever I needed a bit of extra cash.

Maybe I could get a job, work part-time and give myself some more financial freedom. But then my studies would definitely take a hit and I couldn't afford to let my grades slip in my final year.

I sighed and walked into the large, open plan kitchen. The white walls that covered most of the house seemed especially bright this morning, probably due to the slight hangover headache that was just beginning to come to life. The grey marble worktops sat almost completely bare, apart from the microwave, toaster and kettle. Mark was very minimalistic, he liked the big modern house but didn't want to fill it with "clutter".

"Let's keep this in this cupboard ok? It takes up too much room on the worktop" he had said when I unpacked the coffee machine my parents got me for Christmas a few years ago.

I loved coffee, couldn't go a day without it and no day started well if it didn't start with a strong coffee. So I readied the machine and took in the scent of the Brazilian coffee grounds as it poured into my favourite sage green mug. I took my first sip and instantly felt my head become clearer.

I decided to put the £1500 textbook bill to the back of my mind for the day and get my head into the books I already had.

Psychology had always been so interesting to me - learning about people and why they do the things they do and feel the way they feel. Which was massively ironic considering I didn't know how I felt most of the time.

My office was the smallest room in the house, but it was by far my favourite. I had asked Mark for full reign on deciding the colours for the room and he agreed. He even helped me pick out what shade of green to paint the back wall. We painted it together that day while listening to music and laughing and covering each other in paint. I smiled at the memory as I took a seat at my sturdy wooden desk.

Criminal psychology had always been the plan. Working with the country's most prolific criminals and getting a front row seat to the ongoings inside their mind. But Mark hated the idea.

"How can I be ok with you going to work in a place with violent predators like that?" He had asked when I told him I was thinking about that line of work.

I couldn't blame him for that I suppose, I can see why it would be worrying for a husband. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that it wasn't all to do with worrying for my safety. Mark liked that he was the provider, the protector and the one who threw himself into his work. I think he would feel somewhat intimidated by a woman who worked in the criminal psychology field and so after a long talk with him, I decided it would be easier to pick the couples counselling route. It kept him happy anyway.

I opened my laptop and got to work studying for my next exam. I only stopped to make more coffee and to use the toilet and I must have completely lost track of time because before I knew it, I heard Mark's voice shouting from the front of the house.

"Hi love, I'm home" he shouted.

I looked over my notes and sighed in relief. Finally some of this information was settling in my brain.

"Let's put this back in the cupboard, yeah? It takes up-" he started to say as he unplugged my coffee machine.

"Too much room on the worktop" I finished his sentence for him as I entered the kitchen.

He turned around and smiled softly at me, closing the cupboard door after my coffee machine was safely inside.

I smiled back as he embraced me with a gentle kiss on the cheek. Every time he came home he smelled the same way, like you would expect a car mechanic to smell - oil, I think it was.

His navy cargo trousers and old grey t-shirt covered in oily marks, the same as every day. He removed his t-shirt and put it in the washing basket, the same as every day. His bare torso used to ignite something in me, but that passion seemed a distant memory now.

We engaged in the usual talk about our days before he headed upstairs for a shower.

After dinner, I decided to tell him about the bill from the university.

"Ok love, does it need paid in full? I've a few outgoings this month from the garage" he casually replied as he turned on the dishwasher.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about" I started, feeling nervous and not knowing why. "I've been thinking, and it's not fair that you have to pay for almost everything we do as a couple and everything that I need as an individual" I said, thinking about the last time I actually felt like an individual.

"You know I don't mind Allie, I love being able to provide for you and support you" he told me.

"I know you do" I smiled "and as much as I really appreciate it, I think it would be good for me to be able to do something for myself" I said, hoping he wouldn't take it in the wrong way.

Mark looked at me with an almost patronising look and I felt myself becoming irritated by it.

"Ok, I understand this is important to you so I have an idea" he told me as he walked closer to me.

I wasn't hopeful for his suggestion but I listened.

"We have someone new starting at the garage tomorrow. I don't know their name, Tracy in reception organised it all. Just helping out until we can get a permanent mechanic in" he trailed on and I couldn't guess where he was going with this.

"Tracy said their main source of income is painting, that's why it works so well because they can paint in the evenings and on the weekends, and work in the garage during the week. Apparently they need some models to enhance their portfolio or something, I don't know much else about it but I'll ask tomorrow, ok?" He finished talking, kissed me on the cheek and walked into the living room to watch the football.

'Modelling?' I thought to myself. 'I'm no model' I let out a small huffy laugh.

Modelling for a painter is surely different to fashion modelling. More unusual poses and a lot of staying still. It wouldn't have been my first choice, but I couldn't be bothered to continue the conversation with Mark. At least if I did do it, I would be able to say I was earning some money for myself.