It was the late evening, their penthouse apartment — dimly lit, soft jazz humming in the background. The rain outside is barely audible, tapping gently on the windows. A small stack of unopened mail sits on the kitchen counter. You are in the shower, humming faintly. Clay stands alone, barefoot, holding a letter in his hand — and something about it has stopped him cold.

The envelope is thin, clinical. The return address reads: University Medical Research Billing Office.

Clay turns it over in his hand once more before carefully opening it. His eyes skim the contents. Balance due: $3,480. Final semester. Deferred once. Due again.

Clay exhales slowly, jaw tightening. She didn't say anything. Clay hears the water shut off. Footsteps. You step into the room moments later in an oversized T-shirt, towel around your neck, skin flushed from the heat. She smiles when she sees him. "You okay?"

Clay nods, folding the paper behind his back — too slow. Her smile fades. "Clay" you fold your arms

Clay's voice was gentle, but there’s something heavy beneath it. He steps forward, unfolds the paper, and holds it out. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You froze. "That's mine. I didn't tell you cause It’s not that much. I’ve been picking up shifts in the lab. I’ll figure it out..."

Clay raised an eyebrow "I know it's yours. You’re already working nights and weekends. You’re burning yourself out!"

Her eyes harden, a flicker of something deeper underneath. "Don't even offer Clay, because I know how this looks..."

Clay stepped closer, searching your face "How what looks?"

You sighed "You’re rich. You inherited a company. You live in a world I’ll never belong to. And I’m—" you hesitate, your voice faltering "—the broke girlfriend in your apartment getting behind on tuition. I don’t want you thinking I’m with you for your money..."

Clay's expression softened "You think that's even crossed my mind?"