My Toxin

Chapter 31: Shadows of Truth

The familiar streets of Oxfordshire greeted them as Alex and Marjorie returned from their weekend escape. The picturesque town had an air of calm that Marjorie desperately needed, especially after the whirlwind of emotions she had experienced in York. The brief respite had done wonders for her spirit, but reality had a way of creeping back in.

On Monday morning, as they sat together in Marjorie's apartment, sipping coffee before the day began, Alex took her hand in his. There was a seriousness in his eyes that made Marjorie's heart skip a beat.

"Marjorie," Alex began, his voice gentle yet firm, "I need to talk to you about something. It's about your tutoring sessions."

Marjorie's brows furrowed in confusion. "What about them? Is something wrong?"

Alex squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You're not going anymore. I had a talk with your parents, and they agreed that you need to focus on other things. Your workload is already overwhelming, and cutting out tutoring will give you more breathing room."

Marjorie blinked, the news catching her off guard. "They... agreed? Just like that?"

He nodded, not wanting to reveal the darker truth behind the decision. "Yes, just like that. They understand that you've been under a lot of pressure, and they want you to be happy. So, no more tutoring."

A wave of relief washed over Marjorie. The thought of having one less obligation lifted a weight she hadn't even fully realised she was carrying. "Thank you, Alex," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. "This means a lot."

"Anything for you," Alex replied, his smile warm but tinged with a hint of something deeper—something he chose not to reveal.

With one less burden on her shoulders, Marjorie found herself approaching the week with a renewed sense of energy. It was a good week, marked by moments of laughter, shared meals, and the quiet comfort of each other's company. The two of them settled back into their routines, but there was a lightness to their days that hadn't been there before.

Friday afternoon brought with it the excitement of the Debate Society's weekly meeting. The topic on the table was a controversial one: "Should young patients be prioritised over older patients when waiting for a kidney transplant?" The room buzzed with anticipation as the members gathered, ready to argue their cases.

As the Debate Society's president, Marjorie didn't participate in the debate itself, but she took her place at the head of the room, eager to see how the discussion would unfold. She watched as the team split into two groups—one arguing for the prioritisation of young patients, the other defending the rights of older patients.

Alex was on the "yay" side, and as the debate heated up, Marjorie couldn't help but admire the passion with which he argued his points. He spoke with conviction, his voice strong and steady, as he laid out his case for why younger patients should be prioritised. He was compelling, weaving in facts and statistics, but also appealing to the emotional aspect of the argument.

As she watched him, Marjorie felt a flutter in her chest. There was something undeniably attractive about seeing Alex so animated, so deeply invested in the debate. His intellect, his confidence—everything about him in that moment drew her in, making her heart race in a way that felt both familiar and new.

When the debate concluded, the room was filled with a mixture of applause and friendly banter. Marjorie took a moment to commend both sides on their arguments, praising the way they had handled such a sensitive topic with maturity and respect. But as she glanced at Alex, she couldn't help but smile, a private expression of admiration just for him.

Later that evening, Marjorie received a call from Kemi, who was still at the recovery centre. The two friends often kept in touch, discussing schoolwork and life in general. But tonight, Kemi had something else on her mind.

"Marjie," Kemi began, her tone light and teasing, "there's this doctor here. He's... well, he's something else. Older, sophisticated, and married. But who cares, he's so hot"

Marjorie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Kemi, please tell me you're joking."

Kemi laughed softly, but there was a hint of wistfulness in her voice. "I know, I know. It's just a silly crush. But he's been so kind to me, and I can't help but feel something, you know?"

Marjorie sighed, her tone gentle but firm. "Kemi, girl no, a married older man? That is a whole other level of complication you don't need right now. You're at the recovery center to heal, to focus on yourself. Don't get distracted please."

Kemi was silent for a moment before she sighed. "You're no fun, fine I promise."

"Good," Marjorie replied, relieved. " Don't let anyone—or anything—derail your progress."

After they hung up, Marjorie worried Kemi wasn't going to listen to her advice. She cared deeply for Kemi and wanted her to make choices that would lead to a healthier, happier life. But she also knew that Kemi had a stubborn streak and hoped her friend would heed her advice.

Saturday arrived, and with it, another session with their therapist. And while the initial sessions had been more surface-level, today felt different. The therapist seemed to sense that it was time to dig deeper, to push them beyond the safety of their practised responses.

"Let's talk about what really scares you," the therapist suggested, her tone gentle but probing. "What are the fears you haven't yet voiced to each other?"

Marjorie and Alex exchanged glances, the question hanging in the air like a weight they weren't sure they were ready to bear. Marjorie's heart pounded as she searched for the right words, her mind racing with the fears she had buried deep inside.

"I'm scared," Marjorie finally admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm scared that I'll never be good enough—that I'll never live up to the expectations everyone has for me especially you, you hold me on such a high pedestal, what if you eventually realise I'm just broken."

Alex felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to Marjorie's confession. He reached out, taking her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "First of all you are not broken. And even If you were, I'd still love you whilst piecing you back together .

"What is your biggest fear Alexander?". The therapist's soothing voice asked.

" I'm terrified of losing her. I'm scared she'll see the extent of my madness and I'll end up losing her because of that."

The therapist nodded, her expression one of understanding. "These fears are valid, but they don't have to define your relationship. The key is to face them together, to be open and honest with each other, even when it's difficult."

The session continued, each question peeling back another layer of their emotional armour, leaving them feeling raw and exposed. By the time they left the therapist's office, the weight of the conversation hung heavily over them. They drove back to their apartment in peaceful silence, hand in hand, the therapy session bringing them closer together.

As the week came to a close, Alex received a call from his father's PI. The investigation into Marjorie's tutor had yielded enough evidence to take action. The PI had uncovered records, testimonies, and a pattern of abusive behaviour that went back years. The rumours were true—this man had driven a student to suicide, and now, there was enough proof to bring him to justice.

Alex felt a surge of satisfaction as he reviewed the evidence, knowing that they had the power to stop the tutor from hurting anyone else. He immediately contacted the police, handing over everything the PI had gathered. It was a relief to know that this threat would soon be behind them, but as he hung up the phone, he felt a sense of unease.

He had kept this from Marjorie to protect her, but now he wondered if she deserved to know the truth—if not about the details, then at least about the steps he had taken to ensure her safety. But that was a conversation for another day. For now, he was content knowing that one more burden had been lifted from her shoulders.