Chapter Twenty-one
Tessa balanced the brown paper bag in her arms as she stepped into the glass-walled lobby of Mark's office building. Inside were his favorites—homemade roast beef sandwiches and a slice of peach pie.
There had been a time when she often surprised him at lunch, sometimes with a baby in tow.
Back then, he'd welcomed the break, grateful for the sandwiches and her company.
But she hadn't visited him at work in a long while—not since the day last year when she showed up unannounced and he'd barely looked up, apologizing that he had to work through lunch and the team had already ordered from the deli.
She had left feeling embarrassed and out of place.
Later, she rationalized it away: he was under pressure, she should have let him know ahead of time, it was only temporary.
Today, though, she had another motive. Mark had told her he'd moved to a different floor, into a separate division from where Kate worked. For her own peace of mind, she wanted to see it for herself. And she wanted to know whether he would receive her "surprise" visit any differently this time.
In the main lobby, she scanned the directory at the reception desk until she found his name—fifth floor now, not the second where he used to be.
So far, so good. She turned toward the elevator, but the baby pressing against her bladder had other ideas.
She asked for directions to the restroom and ducked inside.
The restroom smelled faintly of lemon cleaner. Tessa moved quickly, one hand pressed to the small of her back. Pregnancy had made these stops frequent, and she was grateful to find an empty stall.
But when she stepped out a few minutes later, she froze.
A woman stood at the mirror, leaning close as she reapplied lipstick. Glossy brunette hair spilled over one shoulder, every movement deliberate. Tessa's gaze lifted to the reflection.
Recognition struck like a blow. She knew that face—knew it from the company event last year when she had been introduced. She remembered Kate laughing a little too brightly, her gaze darting toward Mark. At the time, Tessa had been secure enough in her marriage to be amused by the obvious crush.
Now her stomach twisted, the old pain rising sharp and bitter. Memories surged back—the late nights at the office, Mark's hollow voice telling her he wasn't sure he loved her anymore, the phone call he took. All of it circled back to this woman.
She almost turned and left. Almost. But then she looked closer.
Kate's posture, the way she pursed her lips at her reflection, checking herself again and again—it struck Tessa differently now.
Not as threatening. Not as someone who had stolen her husband.
But as a young woman desperate for validation, willing to settle for scraps from another woman's table.
Kate, unaware at first, caught her eye in the mirror and moved over to make room. "Oh—sorry. Didn't see you."
Tessa's voice was even. "That's all right. I'm Tessa Collins, you might remember me," She let the name hang. "Mark's wife."
The lipstick stopped mid-swipe. Kate's face drained of color. "Oh," she stammered, forcing a laugh. "Right. Of course. I—well, I'm sure you've heard—"
"Heard what?" Tessa said quietly, stepping closer to the mirror. Her hand rested protectively over the curve of her stomach.
Kate blinked down at Tessa's hand with surprise, then she straightened, her tone turning defensive. "Look, whatever Mark told you, I didn't—things just... happened. You two were already having problems. I wasn't the cause."
Tessa studied her. The sharp retort she expected didn't come.
Instead, her voice carried a calm clarity.
"No. You weren't the cause. Mark was responsible for his choices, and he'll have to live with them.
But you chose too. You saw another woman's husband and treated it as an opportunity, not a boundary. "
Kate's jaw clenched, a flicker of indignation in her eyes. "Maybe if he'd been happier at home..."
Tessa cut her off with a small shake of her head. "Don't do that. Don't excuse what you both did by blaming me. You're worth more than taking whatever broken pieces a man can sneak you behind his wife's back. You may not believe it now, but chasing love that way will only leave you emptier."
Kate's eyes flashed. "Well, you should be happy now-- it's not like I won, right?" she snapped, bitterness edging her voice. "He cut me off like I didn't exist. Ran straight back to you."
Tessa felt something settle inside her. Mark had told her he ended it, and now Kate's bitterness confirmed it.
Looking at Kate's hardened features, with no trace of peace or contentment in her eyes, Tessa felt something she hadn't expected—pity.
She spoke quietly, firmly. "You're young.
You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't waste it on men who can't give themselves fully.
Because when you do, you're not just destroying his wife, his kids--a family you've never met—you're destroying yourself too. "
Kate gave a short, sharp laugh, but didn't reply. Her eyes stayed fixed on her reflection.
Tessa didn't wait for more. She picked up her bag, turned, and walked out with her head high.
Tessa nudged the door open with her hip, holding the lunch bag in one hand, and stepped into Mark's office. He looked up quickly, and his whole expression lit. His chair scraped back as he shot to his feet, a smile breaking across his face.
"Tessa!" He rounded the desk in a few quick strides, as though he couldn't reach her fast enough. The sight of her—standing there with determination in her face and a paper bag in her hand—hit him with a rush of warmth.
"You brought lunch?" He took the bag from her outstretched hand.
"I did," she said, but the faint tightness in her expression made him pause.
"What happened?" he asked carefully, his gaze searching hers.
She didn't stall. "I ran into Kate. In the restroom."
The color drained from his face. He took a step closer, his chest tightening. "Tessa... are you—"
"I'm fine," she cut in, steady but not cold.
"Actually... more than fine." She drew in a slow breath.
"I saw her there at the mirror, and at first all the old feelings came rushing back—hurt, anger, humiliation.
I remembered that company dinner last year, the way she tried so hard to impress you, how I dismissed it, when I probably should have paid attention. "
She shook her head slightly. "But when I really looked at her today... all I saw was a lost young woman. Someone chasing worth in things that can never give it. Someone who thinks love means taking scraps from someone else's table."
Mark swallowed hard, watching her, unsure whether to speak.
"I told her that she was worth more than that," Tessa continued, her voice quiet but firm. "That no woman should try to build her happiness on destroying someone else's family. I told her she had a whole life ahead of her, and she didn't need to settle for taking pieces of mine."
Tessa's shoulders loosened slightly, the weight easing. "She tried to brush it off, even threw a few barbs my way. But I saw it in her eyes—what I said hit. And when I walked out of that room, I felt... lighter. Like she doesn't hold any power over me anymore."
Mark's chest ached at her words. "Tessa... she didn't deserve the grace you just showed her. I don't either. I can't tell you how sorry I am—for dragging her into our lives, for putting you through all of this. I've thought of a hundred ways I could have stopped myself, and I failed every time."
Tessa met his gaze, her expression measured but not hard. "Mark, I know you regret it. And I want to tell you that I'm working on forgiveness. That doesn't erase what happened, but forgiveness is the only way I can breathe again, the only way to rebuild. I don't want to live my life in bitterness."
Her words sank into him like water into dry earth. Forgiveness. Rebuilding. Not words of finality, not walls closing in, but a way forward.
He tightened his grip on the chair behind him, steadying the surge of emotion. "Hearing you say that... it means everything. I'll spend the rest of my life proving I can be worthy of that forgiveness. Of you. Of our kids."
She exhaled, her mouth curving in the faintest smile. "Then let's eat. She patted her stomach; this baby is ready for lunch."
As they unwrapped their food side by side, Mark realized something in her tone had altered. She wasn't just speaking about survival, about making it through. She was speaking as if she believed there was a future for them—something whole they could build again.