Chapter 20 Marianne
MARIANNE
Marianne's palms were sweating against the membership card she had purchased an hour ago.
The gym was nearly empty at three in the afternoon. She had never been to this particular gym before, had only known about it because Isla had mentioned it once in passing, a casual detail that Marianne's memory had cataloged without knowing she would ever need it.
Isla's text had come back after two hours of agonizing silence. I'll be at the gym until five. You know where.
No acceptance. No rejection. Just an acknowledgment and a location. It was more than Marianne deserved.
She found Isla in the back corner of the weight room, attacking a heavy bag with a ferocity that made Marianne's chest ache.
Grief and rage poured from every punch—the way Isla's shoulders tensed with each impact, how she was channeling her pain into something physical because the emotional weight of it was too much to bear.
Marianne watched. Watched the woman she loved fight with shadows, her body moving with the precise brutality of someone who had spent weeks burning off heartbreak through violence.
Watched the sweat darken her tank top, the muscles in her arms flex and release, the way she moved like the world had betrayed her and she was determined to punch her way back to equilibrium.
Then Isla stopped. Her hands dropped to her sides, her chest heaving, and she turned to face Marianne with an expression that was deliberately blank.
"You came."
"I came."
Neither of them moved. Around them, the gym continued its quiet hum, the clank of weights and the distant sound of a television the only punctuation to their standoff.
"You said you had something to tell me." Isla's voice was flat. "So tell me."
Marianne took a breath. She had practiced this speech a dozen times, had memorized the words she needed to say. But standing here, looking at Isla's closed expression and defensive posture, all her careful preparation felt inadequate.
"I resigned today."
Isla's eyebrows rose slightly. "From Oakridge?"
"Effective immediately." Marianne took a step closer, then stopped when she saw Isla tense. "I presented evidence to the board. Evidence that proved the investigation into you was misdirected. That the real problems at Oakridge are systemic, not individual."
"And they believed you?"
"They're reconsidering the investigation.
Whether they actually fix anything remains to be seen.
" Marianne's voice was steady, though her heart was racing.
"But I told them the truth. I told them they were wrong about you.
And when they made it clear that truth-telling wasn't compatible with continued employment, I quit. "
Isla studied her. "Why?"
"Because it was the right thing to do. Because I should have done it weeks ago instead of letting fear control my decisions." Marianne took another step closer. "Because I love you, and I destroyed the best thing in my life by being too much of a coward to fight for it."
"You ended our relationship." Isla's voice cracked on the words. "You stood in my apartment and told me we were a mistake. You chose your career over us."
"I know."
"You broke my heart."
"I know." Marianne felt tears pricking at her eyes. "And I can't undo that. Can't take back the words I said or the choices I made. All I can do is tell you the truth now and hope it's not too late."
"The truth." Isla laughed, the sound bitter. "Which truth? That you love me? That you're sorry? That you want another chance?"
"All of it." Marianne closed the remaining distance between them, stopping just out of reach. "I love you. I'm sorry. I want another chance, even though I know I don't deserve one."
"You're right. You don't deserve one."
The words hit like a physical blow, but Marianne didn't flinch. "I know."
"You left me when I needed you most. Recommended my suspension. Watched while the institution we both served tried to destroy me."
"I know."
"And now you want me to forgive you because you finally did the right thing? Because you quit a job that was already compromised?"
"No." Marianne shook her head. "I don't expect forgiveness. I don't expect anything. I just needed you to know that I'm sorry. That I was wrong. That the fear that controlled me for so long isn't in charge anymore."
Isla stared at her, expression unreadable. The quiet held, thick with everything that had been said and unsaid over the past weeks.
"I've been so angry," Isla said finally. Her voice was rough. "Angry at the hospital. Angry at Shaw. Angry at the whole system that decided I was a liability instead of an asset. But mostly I've been angry at you."
"I deserved it."
"You did." Isla's hands clenched at her sides. "You were the one person I let myself trust. The one person I let see behind the walls. And you used that vulnerability against me."
"I didn't—"
"You walked away." Isla's voice rose. "When things got hard, when you had to choose between your safety and our relationship, you walked away. You told me we were a mistake. You made me feel like an idiot for believing we had a future."
"I'm sorry." The words felt inadequate, but they were all Marianne had.
"Sorry doesn't fix it." Isla turned away, her shoulders tight with tension. "Sorry doesn't undo the weeks I spent questioning everything. Wondering if you ever really loved me or if I was just convenient. Trying to figure out how I could have been so wrong about someone."
"You weren't wrong." Marianne reached out, then dropped her hand before it could touch Isla's shoulder. "Everything I said when we were together was true. I love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. The only lie was when I ended it. When I told you we were a mistake."
"Then why did you say it?"
"Because I was terrified." The admission came out raw, stripped of all the professional polish Marianne usually maintained.
"Because I've spent my whole life protecting myself from exactly this kind of vulnerability.
Because loving you meant risking everything, and when the pressure got too intense, I chose the coward's way out. "
Isla finally turned to face her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her jaw tight with contained emotion. "What's different now?"
"I am." Marianne held her gaze. "I stood up in front of the board today and told them they were wrong. I risked my career, my reputation, my professional future. I did the thing I was most afraid of, and I survived."
"So you're brave now? Just like that?"
"No. I'm terrified now. But I'm not letting the fear make my choices anymore." Marianne took a breath. "I came here because I needed you to know the truth. That I love you. That I was wrong. That I'm willing to fight for us if you'll give me the chance."
"And if I won't?"
"Then I'll accept that. I'll understand." Marianne's voice was steady despite the tears falling down her cheeks. "But I needed to try. I needed to do this one thing right, even if it doesn't change anything."
The silence stretched between them. Marianne could hear her own heartbeat, could feel the weight of everything riding on this moment.
Then Isla moved.
She closed the distance between them in two steps, her hands coming up to cup Marianne's face. The kiss was fierce and desperate, tasting of salt and grief and hope.
Marianne's hands found Isla's waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of her body through the sweat-damp fabric of her workout clothes. The kiss deepened, tongues meeting in a dance they both remembered, bodies pressing together with the urgency of second chances.
"I'm still angry," Isla gasped against her mouth.
"I know."
"I'm still hurt."
"I know."
"This doesn't fix everything."
"I know." Marianne pulled back just enough to look into Isla's eyes. "But is it a start?"
"I don't know." Isla's hands were still cupping her face, her thumbs tracing the line of Marianne's cheekbones. "You broke something in me when you left. Made me question everything I thought I knew about us. About myself."
"I'm sorry." The words felt inadequate, but they were all Marianne had.
"I know you are. I can see it." Isla's eyes searched hers. "But sorry isn't the same as trust. And I don't know if I can trust you again."
"Tell me what you need." Marianne's voice was steady despite the fear coiling in her stomach. "Tell me how to prove that I've changed."
"I don't know if you can prove it. I think you have to show me. Over time. Through choices that matter." Isla's thumb brushed her mouth. "But right now, in this moment, I need to feel something other than angry. Something other than afraid."
"I can give you that."
Isla's answer was another kiss, longer and deeper than the first. Her hands slid into Marianne's hair, pulling her closer, as if she could merge their bodies through sheer force of will.
"My apartment," Isla breathed. "Now."
---
They barely made it through the door.
Isla pushed Marianne against the wall of the entryway, her mouth hungry and demanding. The kiss was nothing like their previous encounters, no careful restraint or practiced technique. This was raw and messy, full of teeth and tongue and the desperate need to feel something other than grief.
"I hate that I still want you." Isla's voice was rough against Marianne's throat. "I hate that you can walk back into my life and make me forget how much you hurt me."
"I know." Marianne's hands found the hem of Isla's tank top, pulling it over her head. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing." Isla's fingers worked at the buttons of Marianne's blouse. "Show me instead."
The clothes came off in a tangle of frustrated movements and impatient hands. They stumbled toward the bedroom, lips never separating for long, bodies pressing together at every opportunity. By the time they fell onto the bed, they were both naked and breathing hard.