Chapter Twelve
Mark knocked on Kate's office door. He had rehearsed the words he wanted to say to her, but they felt clumsy on his tongue.
Honestly, he had been tempted to avoid her indefinitely and let the silence speak for him.
But he was almost thirty, not seventeen, and it was long past time he acted like it.
In recent months he had abdicated the role of adult, with disastrous consequences. It was time to grow up.
When he stepped inside, Kate looked up. A smile spread quickly across her face, her eyes brightening. "Well, look who finally decided to show up," she teased, her voice light but edged with reproach.
He closed the door behind him, his hand gripping the knob for a beat longer than necessary. "Kate, I need to talk to you."
Something in his tone made her smile dim. "All right," she said slowly.
Mark drew in a breath. "I owe you an apology. I crossed a line with you--actually, thousands of lines—and it was wrong. That's on me. I was immature and selfish, and I allowed you be part of something that should never have started."
Her brows knit together. "Mark—"
He held up a hand. "Please. Just let me finish. I've asked to be reassigned to a different division, on another floor, so there will be no need for us to interact in the future. It's better for both of us. For everyone."
Kate blinked, surprise flickering into hurt. "Wait... you're saying this is it? Just like that?"
"Yes." His voice was firm. "Kate, I wish you well. Truly. But whatever this was—it's over. Completely."
She leaned forward, desperation creeping in. "But we don't have to throw it all away. We work well together, Mark. Maybe we can still be friends. Colleagues, at least. I could be a sounding board—"
"No," he cut in, " The boundaries between us were already blurred too far. I won't risk that again."
For a moment, her expression hardened, the warmth slipping. "So, you run back to your wife and pretend nothing happened?"
Mark swallowed hard, but didn't flinch. "No. I don't get to pretend. What I did is a failure I have to live with. But I'm done making it worse. This—" he gestured between them "—ends here."
Kate stared at him, then finally leaned back in her chair, her eyes cold and wounded. "If that's what you want."
"It is," and he knew with all his heart that it was true. Then, without waiting for her reply, he opened the door and walked away, each step lighter than the last.