She pulled out her phone and stared at it.
There were a dozen ways this could go wrong. Isla might refuse to see her. Might have moved on. Might be so hurt that no apology could ever be enough.
But Marianne had spent her whole life avoiding risk. Had built walls so high that no one could reach her, and in the process had made herself more alone than she had ever been at Riverside General.
It was time to stop being afraid.
She typed out a messager, her fingers trembling slightly.
I know I don't deserve your time. But I need to tell you something. Something I should have said weeks ago. Can we talk?
She hit send before she could change her mind.
The question was whether it was too late to fight for what she had thrown away.
20
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."
