"And yet."
"And yet." Marianne's composure cracked, just slightly. "I can't stop thinking about you. I can't stop wanting you. I spent all day watching you work, watching you save lives despite the restrictions I helped create, and all I could think about was what it felt like to touch you."
Isla should have sent her away. Should have done the smart thing, the safe thing, the thing that would protect them both from the disaster they were courting.
Instead, she stepped aside and let Marianne into her apartment.
They stood in her living room, separated by a few feet of charged space, and looked at each other with eyes that held equal parts desire and dread.
"This is insane." Isla's voice was rough. "We both know how this ends. Careers destroyed. Reputations ruined. Everything we've worked for, gone."
"I know."
"And you still came."
"I still came." Marianne's voice dropped. "Because the alternative is spending every day wanting you and pretending I don't. And I don't think I can do that anymore."
The honesty of the admission broke something in Isla's chest. She had spent three days telling herself that what they had done was a one-time aberration, something to be filed away and forgotten. But Marianne was standing in her living room, stripped of her professional armor, confessing that she felt exactly the same way.
"Tamsin noticed something today." Isla had to be honest. If they were going to do this, there couldn't be secrets between them. "She didn't say it directly, but she knows something has changed. The chemistry between us was visible."
Marianne's face paled. "How visible?"
"Visible enough that she warned me to be careful." Isla moved closer, close enough to see the slight tremor in Marianne's hands. "If we continue this, we need to do better. We need to make sure no one else notices."
"You're saying we should continue."
"I'm saying I want to continue." The admission felt like stepping off a cliff. "But if we do, it has to be on our terms. Controlled. Protected."
Marianne nodded slowly. "I can work with that."
"If we do this," Isla said slowly, "it has to stay secret. No one at the hospital can know. Not Tamsin, not Hartman, not anyone."
"Agreed."
"And we need rules. Boundaries. Something to keep this from becoming..." She trailed off, unable to find the right word.
"Complicated?" Marianne's smile was wry. "I think we're past that."
"More complicated, then." Isla moved to the couch and sat down, gesturing for Marianne to join her. "If we're going to do this, we need to be smart about it."
They spent the next hour negotiating the terms of their arrangement with the clinical precision of two people who had built careers on risk management and crisis response.
"No contact at the hospital beyond what's professionally necessary," Marianne said, ticking items off on her fingers. "If we pass in the hallway, we nod. If we're in a meeting, we maintain appropriate distance."
"Agreed. And no communication that could be traced or discovered. No texts, no emails, no phone calls that go through the hospital system."
"I'll get a prepaid phone for personal communication."
"So will I." Isla paused, considering. "Meetings only at my apartment or at locations we choose deliberately. Nowhere near the hospital. Nowhere that colleagues might frequent."
"We'll need to stagger our arrivals and departures. If anyone sees us coming and going at the same time..."
"They won't. I'll make sure of it."
They covered everything. Contingency plans for unexpected encounters. Cover stories for why they might need to meet outside of work. Protocols for what to do if someone started asking questions.
It felt strange to be discussing their affair as if it were a treaty negotiation. But strange or not, it was necessary. They both knew what was at stake.
