Chapter Forty-Eight: The Return

Marissa smiled to herself as she walked back to her place. She’d decided to take the rest of the afternoon off instead of returning to the office. Lunch with Daniel had left her in a better mood than she’d expected warm, steady, almost disorientingly normal.

It had been… good. Simple. Not something that needed to be unpacked into categories or “what-ifs.” Just two people who’d lived through the same storm, sitting across a table and remembering they were human.

Still, she couldn’t deny the flicker that lingered. Something in the way his laugh had felt like an anchor. Something in the way she kept replaying his smile. She shook her head, scoffing at herself. Dangerous territory.

Marissa still lived in the place she and Olivia had called home for over five years. Somewhere on the upper west side. Olivia used to talk about wanting to live “simpler” than her parents, away from the trappings of old-money grandeur. But the irony was cruel, this apartment was still a palace compared to most of the city.

Four bedrooms. A study. A dining hall too large for two women who usually ate on the couch. High vaulted ceilings that let winter drafts sneak in no matter how many times the super “fixed it.” A balcony wide enough to host a dinner party—though it had mostly hosted Olivia’s cigarette smoke curling into the night air.

She unlocked the heavy door, and pushed it aside. And as she entered the apartment, she smelled something.

The familiar scent of sandalwood perfume layered with the faint, bitter edge of smoke.

She froze immediately.

Marissa recognized that scent, she’d fallen in love with it. The knowledge of her wife.

She looked around, and sure enough the signs were there. Olivia’s well worn boots were at the entrance, say what one would about Olivia, she wouldn’t wear shoes indoors.

The scent of her lingered, and Marissa slipped off her shoes. She heard it, in the kitchen. A small quiet stirring.

Black shirt, sleeves rolled to her elbows, tie hanging loose and undone at her throat like she’d just come back from court. Her hair was slightly mussed, a lock falling across her forehead, and she looked at home in a way that made Marissa’s stomach twist.

Olivia didn’t see her, not right away, she was at the counter drinking a glass of wine. She turned her head and choked on her drink. Olivia’s eyes went wide with surprise, like a deer caught in headlights.

Marissa crossed her arms, anger visible on her face. She gazed at the woman who was still technically her wife. Casually in her home.

“Shit,” Olivia said. “I thought you were at work.”

Weeks had passed without seeing each other, without a word between them except for lawyers messages, not even a text message exchanged.

“That’s it?” Marissa’s voice cut through Olivia’s like a blade.

Olivia set the wine glass down too quickly, the stem clinking against the counter.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Olivia said crossing her arms. She looked away uncomfortable maybe, but not apologetic in her voice.

“That much is obvious.” Marissa’s laugh was bitter, empty. “Didn’t think you’d have to face me.” She just stood there, as if blocking Olivia. She had things she wanted to say and didn’t want her to leave.

“After weeks of nothing, not a word Olivia. Not even a god damn text message.” She narrowed her gaze at Olivia, soft brown eyes somehow looking threatening. “I had to hear that you were cheating on me from Daniel.”

“Hey, you never reached out to me either,” Olivia shot back, arms crossing tighter. Her tone was defensive, brittle, like she’d rehearsed it in her head.

Marissa barked out a laugh that had no humor in it. “Are you fucking serious, right now?” She took a step forward, closing the gap just enough that Olivia couldn’t retreat without making it obvious. “You blow up our marriage, disappear for weeks, and now it’s my fault for not chasing you down?”

“Look I just came here to get a couple of things. I didn’t want to deal with this.”

“A couple of things? That’s all this place is for you? After years? Just let me waltz back in here and grab some things.”

Olivia ignored her as she tried to leave, but Marissa was following her through it all.

“You lied. You cheated, Olivia. You don’t get to rewrite this,” Marissa said finally, voice lower, dangerous. “You don’t get to stand in my kitchen, drink my wine, and act like we’re equals in this mess.

Olivia’s shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t turn around. Her hand hovered near the strap of her bag, like she might just grab it and bolt.

“Why’d you do it?” Marissa asked. Her voice quieter, less angry, more hurt.

Olivia froze, silence stretching between them.

“Why’d you do it?” She asked again.

And Olivia’s eyes, so often full of pride and spite, full of spirit and confidence, seemed to crack.

“Sam threw herself at me,” Olivia confessed. “And god, I just couldn’t help myself.”

Marissa scoffed, “That’s it? That’s your fucking excuse?”

Olivia’s face twisted—anger, shame, something uglier flickering underneath. “You don’t get it, Marissa. You’ve never had someone you’ve wanted for years some-“

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Marissa snapped, her voice low and trembling now, not with weakness but with rage,”

“Don’t you stand there in my home and compare me to her. I don’t care if she’s rich, or blonde, or wears her pearls to bed. I was your wife. I built a life with you. And you threw it away for—what? A quick fuck in a hotel bathroom?”

Olivia’s breath hitched, and then she did the only thing she knew to do—she lashed out. Her voice rose, sharp and cutting.

“You don’t understand,” she snapped, eyes flashing. “God, she was amazing. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Olivia.”

“I’m just saying you’ll never get it,” Olivia shot back, chin lifting with that same defiance that used to charm Marissa, back when they were younger, before it had calcified into arrogance. “You’ll never understand what it’s like to finally touch someone you’ve wanted for years.”

Marissa laughed, harsh and hollow. “Understand? Oh, I understand just fine. You wanted her, so you took her. Doesn’t matter who you destroyed in the process.” She stepped closer, eyes burning into Olivia’s. “You didn’t just betray me. You betrayed the version of yourself I believed in. The one who swore she’d never be like everyone else selfish, cowardly, **** for validation.”

Marissa’s eyes burned as she stared at her, sandalwood and smoke pressing like a weight in the room. Her voice softened, but the hurt only sharpened the blade. “Don’t act like this is something romantic. You could have told me if you were unhappy. But instead you chose to lie to hurt me. So fuck you, Olivia.”

Olivia stood there, looking at Marissa blankly. Perhaps it was wrong to say, but seeing her so angry. It made her remember why’d she’d fallen for the rebellious lawyer. Who wore her emotions on her sleeves.”

“Maybe we can put this behind us,” Olivia said suddenly, her tone shifting as she drifted closer. Her voice dipped low, husky, her lashes fluttering as she toyed with the button of her blouse. “I’ve missed you.”

Once, this would have worked. Once, Olivia could have pulled her in, drowned her in touch and scent and heat, and silenced every protest with the press of her mouth. Sex had always been Olivia’s quicksand, the weapon she wielded when the walls closed in. And Marissa, God help her, had let herself sink more times than she could count.

But not tonight.

Marissa stepped back, arms folding tightly across her chest, jaw set. “No,” she said firmly, the word like a slammed door.

Olivia blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean,” Marissa said, each word deliberate, steady, “you don’t get to burn down our marriage and then try to crawl back into my bed like nothing happened.”

The silence that followed was thick, Olivia’s seduction hanging limp in the air, denied for the first time. “I just came for my things.”

“Then get your things, and get the hell