Chris: You doing okay? Eating properly?
She smiled.
Irene: I had tea and pancakes for breakfast, a quick salad snack for lunch and pasta with sauce for dinner so probably not.
Chris: Are you okay with just that?
Irene: I'm fine. Thank you for today. Really.
Chris: Don't thank me. Just don't disappear on me again.
Irene: I won't don't worry.
*A pause.* Then-
Chris: Wednesday. I'll transfer you a £1,000
Irene sat up straight.
Irene: Absolutely not.
Chris: Don't say no. Not in this case.
Irene: Chris that is too much. I'm not taking a thousand pounds from you.
Chris: It's just money.
Irene: It's not just money it's a thousand pounds.
Chris: And your rent is eight hundred. You'll have two hundred left over for whatever else needs sorting. End of discussion.
Irene: We literally just started-
Chris: I know what we just started. I also know you're sitting in your flat stressing about something I can solve in thirty seconds.
*A pause.*
She stared at the screen.
Her pride pulled hard in one direction. Everything else pulled in another.
Irene: I'll pay you back.
Chris: Nah don't bother.
Irene: "Hmm I don't know what to say, really".
Chris: Goodnight Irene. Wednesday. It's done.
She stared at her phone screen blankly.
Irene: Goodnight Chris.
Then turned off her phone screen.
Lay back on her pillow.
"Stubborn man" she said lightly.
But she was smiling when she put the phone down.
Wednesday came. Sent good morning texts to Chris but it was left on delivered. She ate some breakfast and went to work anyway.
She appeared to be in what can be described as a lively mood at work which Eva her co-worker noticed. "Glad to see you happy again" Eva leaned closer to her.
Irene just smiled. "I am too".
It was around noon.
She was delivering coffee to table 3 and she felt her phone buzz in her apron. She checked it back at the counter.
A bank notification.
£1,000.
From Chris Walker.
Exactly like he said.
She sat with it for a long moment. Then as she began typing, a text from Chris came through.
Chris: Check your bank balance.
Irene: You didn't have to do this.
Chris: I know. But I wanted to.
Irene: Thank you. Genuinely.
Chris: Stop thanking me and go pay your landlord.
"She laughed out loud.*
Irene: Sure thing.
She paid the rent by end of day. Made grocery shopping and sorted other bills and saved the remainder of the excess 200 pounds.
That evening she exhaled for what felt like the first time in a week. The weight that had been sitting on her chest since Sunday simply- lifted. Gone.
She called June to tell her.
June was uncharacteristically speechless for approximately four seconds.
Then-
"IRENE THIS MAN IS THE ONE FOR YOU"
"A THOUSAND POUNDS. WITHOUT BLINKING-"
"I'm overwhelmed myself, but it's not like that-" Irene tried to shrug it off.
"IT IS EXACTLY LIKE THAT." June's voice cracked slightly with emotion underneath the volume. "Irene please. Please just let yourself be loved properly for once in your life. Please."
Irene didn't say anything for a moment.
She looked outside her window. Belfast was doing its evening thing. Lights coming on. Streets settling. The distant sound of the city breathing.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "Maybe I will."
They talked and laugh for one hour before finally hanging up on each other.
Then she texted Chris.
Irene: Thank you once again for the money.
Chris: It's my pleasure. How's your evening going?
Irene: Pretty good, just got off the phone with a friend and now settling in bed.
Chris: Which friend?
Irene: Oh my best friend June down in Newry town.
Chris: Had me thinking otherwise lol.
Irene: You got jealous because you thought it was a guy?.
Chris: I'm supposed to be jealous.
Irene: You don't have, trust me
Chris: If you say so. I'm sleepy. Good night.
Irene: Good night.
The days passed and the routine was the same- work, June, Chris. On repeat.
Chris took her out twice more.
First to a small jazz bar tucked away in the city centre that she fell in love with immediately.
A long drive along the coastline on the bike with no destination and no rush, the Irish Sea stretching grey and beautiful on one side and Chris's steady presence on the other.
She stopped counting how many times he made her laugh.
She stopped pretending she wasn't looking forward to his texts.
She stopped telling herself it wasn't serious.
It was serious.
She knew it. He knew it. June definitely knew it and reminded her approximately every forty eight hours.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it- the texts and the calls and the quiet Tuesday evenings watching films over the phone- Irene felt something she hadn't felt in as long as she could remember.
Safe.
Not financially. Not practically. Emotionally.
Just - safe. Like someone knew where she was and was paying attention.
It was terrifying and wonderful in equal measure.
Then one Saturday, while they were texting around 5pm, Chris casually mentioned Netflix and chill at his apartment .
"Netflix and chill?" Irene typed back.
Chris: Just come over. I'm cooking.
Irene: You cook?
Chris: Don't sound so surprised.
Irene: I'm very surprised.
Chris: 7pm. I'll send you the address. She hadn't been to his apartment before.
She stared at the message.
Then sent it straight to June.
June replied in four seconds flat.
June: NETFLIX AND CHILL IRENE.
Irene: It's just dinner June.
June: IT IS NEVER JUST DINNER. What are you wearing?
Irene: Just a simple black dress.
June: Perfect, let me know what happens.
She arrived at his apartment at five past seven.
It was on the third floor of a quiet building in the city centre. Clean. Very him.
He opened the door immediately she knocked as if he was waiting at the door.
Cream shorts. Simple white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Something behind him smelled extraordinary.
"You actually cooked," she said.
"I told you I would."
"I didn't believe you."
He stepped aside to let her in.
The apartment was warm and dim- soft lighting, the kind he clearly preferred. A small dining table set properly. Two plates. Wine glasses. A candle.
"Sit down," he said, already moving back to the kitchen.
She sat. Looked around. "You got good taste."
"Thank you" Chris replied.
Music playing low from somewhere. The city visible through the window behind her, Belfast doing its night thing outside.
He came back with two plates. Pasta- proper pasta with meat balls and parmesan cheese topping. Italian style.
"You made pasta," she said.
"In your honour." He sat across from her.
She laughed. Picked up her fork.
Took a bite.
Said nothing for a moment.
"Well?" he asked.
"It's good," she said.
They ate and talked throughout.
By the time the plates were cleared and the wine was half gone the evening had softened into something comfortable and warm.
He refilled her glass and nodded toward the couch.
"Film?" he said.
"Sure," she agreed.
The couch was deep and comfortable.
He'd set up the coffee table properly- popcorn, sweets, two small bottles of something fizzy alongside the wine. She raised an eyebrow at the spread and walked to the hall.
"You prepared," she said.
"I'm a prepared person." He replied. "Make yourself comfortable."
She sat down. Still smiling.
He sat beside her. Close.
They started the film. Romance film.
Twenty minutes in she had her legs tucked under her, a blanket pulled over her lap, bowl of popcorn balanced between them.
His arm had found its way to the back of the couch behind her somewhere.
She was aware of it the entire time but didn't flinch because she was also invested.
The film played. A scene ignited the moment.
She turned to look at Chris.
He was already looking at her.
Up close. The calm was still there. But underneath it was something else. Something that had been building since the first day he walked into the café and looked at her like she was worth looking at.
"What?" she blushed.
Chris didn't say anything but maintained eye contact.
He leaned closer and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed her jaw on the way back down. Light. Deliberate. Romantic.
Her breath caught.
She looked at him for a moment.
Before she knew it, he leaned in and kissed her...