Chapter 12 - The Day Martha Walked Away
Martha regained her nursing license.
She should have been happy.
Instead she packed.
Maxwell found the suitcase.
“You’re leaving.”
“I have an offer.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“A rehabilitation hospital.”
“Yes.”
He looked away.
“That’s good.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“It’s your life.”
“Yes.”
“You should go.”
Martha had expected him to fight.
His acceptance hurt more.
“So that’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
She didn’t know.
That was the problem.
They had survived danger together.
They had uncovered secrets together.
But survival could imitate intimacy.
Martha needed to know who she was without Rourke House.
“I leave Friday.”
Maxwell nodded.
Friday came.
He did not ask her to stay.
Adrian drove her to the station.
Before she entered, Martha looked back.
Maxwell wasn’t there.
She hated herself for caring.
Three months passed.
Boston was good.
The hospital was good.
Martha was good.
Yet some nights she remembered steam rolling across marble.
A frightened man pretending not to feel.
A foot moving beneath cold water.
Then came a letter.
Not from Maxwell.
From Julian.
Prison stationery.
Martha almost threw it away.
Instead she opened it.
Maxwell is getting worse.
She called Adrian.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Julian says he’s worse.”
Adrian sighed.
“He stopped therapy.”
“Why?”
“You left.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I agree.”
“Put him on the phone.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because he’ll lie.”
Martha drove to Providence the next morning.
Rourke House looked different.
Much of it was empty.
She found Maxwell in the rehabilitation room.
He stared at her.
“What are you doing here?”
“Apparently preventing a grown man from behaving like an idiot.”
His expression hardened.
“I didn’t ask you to come.”
“No.”
“You left.”
“Yes.”
“You had every right.”
“Yes.”
“So why are you here?”
Martha approached.
“Because leaving taught me something.”
“What?”
“I didn’t stay because you needed me.”
He looked at her.
“I stayed because I loved you.”
Silence.
Maxwell’s face changed.
All the walls disappeared at once.
“Martha.”
“I’m not coming back as your employee.”
“Good.”
“I’m not giving up my career.”
“Good.”
“And if you ever stop therapy because I’m gone, I will personally—”
He kissed her.
Martha froze.
Then kissed him back.
When they separated, Maxwell whispered:
“I love you too.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
Then pointed toward the parallel bars.
“Now stand.”
He laughed.
“You haven’t changed.”
“Stand, Maxwell.”
May you like
He did.
