Chapter 19
Mark
Mark leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs beneath the heavy oak desk as he drummed his fingers against his keyboard. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it, but curiosity had a way of tugging at him when it came to Ethan. He had seen the confidence, the strength in the way he carried himself, but he wanted to know more.
With a few keystrokes, he pulled up a search bar and typed in Ethan Williams Wrestling .
It didn’t take long to find the results. There were videos, articles, even a few high school sports interviews. He clicked the first link, and a grainy video from nearly a decade ago popped up. A gymnasium filled the screen, the polished floor reflecting the overhead lights, the blue and gold wrestling mat stark against the backdrop of cheering spectators. And there—right in the center—was Ethan.
He was younger, barely sixteen, but the raw talent was unmistakable. Even against opponents much taller, he moved like lightning—agile, calculated, relentless. His footwork was flawless, and his takedowns were swift and powerful. Mark watched, transfixed, as Ethan took down an opponent almost a foot taller than him with ease, pinning him in under thirty seconds.
Damn.
Mark leaned forward, watching another match. Ethan was all muscle, compact and explosive. He didn’t waste energy. Every move was precise, purposeful. There was an intensity to him, a drive that made Mark’s chest tighten.
He wasn’t just strong. He was smart . He’d adapt mid-match, reading his opponents, predicting their next moves before they even made them. It was impressive.
Mark wasn’t sure how long he sat there watching, but a shadow flickered across his office doorway, pulling him out of his trance.
“Linda?”
Linda Skeens walked back and stood in the doorway, arms crossed, brow arched.
He cleared his throat quickly, clicking out of the video. “Linda, come in.”
She stepped inside, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” Mark said smoothly, motioning to the chair across from him.
She sat, unconvinced. “Sure. Because that didn’t look like you were watching cat videos.”
Mark huffed a quiet laugh. “Research.”
Her smirk softened into something fond. “Ah.”
“I wanted to thank you for referring Ethan Williams to me,” Mark said, leaning forward. “The built-ins turned out better than I could’ve imagined. I ended up hiring him for more work around the house.”
Linda’s expression lit up. “I heard, that’s really great. His parents were over for dinner a few weeks ago, and they were happy for him. His mom told me that he was excited about working at your house.”
Mark’s chest tightened slightly. He thought about the easy way Ethan talked about his family, how deeply he cared for them. He hesitated for a moment before asking, “How’s his mom doing?”
Linda’s smile dimmed slightly, but her voice was steady. “She’s fighting.”
Mark’s stomach dropped. “Fighting?”
Linda nodded. “Breast cancer. Stage four.”
He inhaled slowly, his fingers curling into a fist against the desk. Jesus.
“I had no idea,” he murmured, his throat tightening.
Linda sighed. “Ethan doesn’t talk about it much. But he moved back home to help. His dad’s injury makes it harder for him to work full-time, so Ethan stepped up. Between his job at the station and his side work, he’s keeping them afloat.”
Mark felt something deep and raw settle in his chest. He had always noticed that Ethan carried a weight, but now he understood. This was why he worked so hard. Why he never seemed to slow down.
Linda studied him carefully. “He’s strong, Mark. But going through something like this… it’s hard to do alone.”
Mark swallowed, staring down at his desk. He knew that truth all too well.
Jessica had been strong too. She had fought with everything she had. But strength didn’t change the outcome.
The thought made his breath hitch, and for a moment, he felt that familiar ache claw its way up his throat.
“Thank you for telling me.” He said finally, voice quiet.
Linda reached over, squeezing his hand briefly. “You’re a good man, Mark. And whether he knows it or not, I think Ethan could use someone like you in his corner. You know what he is going through. You know what he will go through.”
Mark nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Linda released his hand and rose to her feet, her expression laced with quiet understanding.
“Ethan is special, Mark. He gives everything he has to the people he loves, never asking for anything in return. But someone needs to remind him that he doesn’t have to carry it all alone.”
She hesitated for a beat, then smiled softly. “I call him Atlas, because he never complains, never falters. He just prays to God for broader shoulders.”
As Linda left, he sat there, staring at the blank screen in front of him. The urge to pull up another video of Ethan wrestling lingered, but instead, he shut his laptop and leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly.
For the first time in a long time, he felt something other than his own grief.
He felt the weight of someone else’s.
And it mattered.
Mark was still staring at his desk when Diana walked in, her usual confidence filling the space before she even said a word. She perched a hip against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, eyes sharp as she studied him.
“Alright,” she said, tilting her head. “Linda walks out, and now you’re brooding. Spill.”
Mark exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I’m not brooding.”
Diana gave him a look. “Oh, please. You have that same lost-in-thought expression you get when the Ducks lose a game.”
Mark huffed a quiet laugh, but it faded quickly. He ran a hand through his hair, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
“I found out something about Ethan today,” he admitted, his voice softer than he intended. “His mom has stage four cancer.”
Diana’s teasing expression sobered in an instant. “Oh, Mark…”
“He moved back home to take care of her. His dad got hurt last year and can’t work full-time anymore, so Ethan’s been taking care of everything. The job, the bills, all of it. He’s such a great guy that he can’t even take the time to find a guy or a girl that he can date”
Diana sat down, something understanding flickering across her face. “That’s a lot for someone his age.”
Mark nodded, staring down at his hands. “I think… I think that’s why I feel so connected to him.” His voice was quieter now, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. “Watching someone you love fight like that. Carrying all that weight.” He swallowed hard, his throat thick. “I know what that feels like.”
Diana’s gaze softened. “Yeah. You do.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of it all pressed against Mark’s chest, but somehow, sharing it with Diana made it a little easier to bear.
Then, as if she sensed the moment was becoming too heavy, she leaned forward, smirking. “So, what you’re telling me is… you’ve got yourself a new best friend?”
Mark rolled his eyes, but he didn’t deny it. “Something like that.”
Diana grinned. “I’ve got to say, I never thought I’d see the day.”
He exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Neither did I.”
There was a pause, and then he found himself saying, “He’s a good guy. The way he talks about his family, the way he looks after them, it’s admirable. He’s got this energy about him, this drive. And the work he’s doing at my house… it’s not just construction. He’s building something. He’s finishing what Jessica started, and—” Mark hesitated, pressing his lips together. “I don’t know. It’s like he sees what she saw. Like he’s bringing her vision to life.”
Diana watched him closely, something unreadable in her eyes. “That’s a big thing to give someone, Mark.”
Mark nodded slowly. “I know.”
She tilted her head. “So, you feel protective of him?”
He considered it for a moment before answering. “Yeah. I do.”
Diana was quiet for a beat, studying him in that way she did when she was picking apart a puzzle. Then, ever so casually, she said, “You also felt the need to tell me he’s bisexual.”
Mark blinked, taken aback. “What?”
Diana arched a brow. “You mentioned it earlier. Just threw it in there like it was important.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping just slightly. “Why does that matter?”
Mark opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even realized he’d brought it up.
Diana, however, was already ahead of him. “Mark, you don’t let people in. You haven’t for years. But now there’s this guy, this guy who’s fixing your house, finishing Jessica’s plans, showing up in your life almost every day. And suddenly, you care. Really care.” She gave him a knowing look. “Are you sure this is just a ‘bromance’?”
Mark stared at her, his stomach twisting. “Of course it is, he’s just a kid” he said automatically.
Diana didn’t look convinced. “Uh-huh.”
Mark scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “I enjoy his company, that’s all.”
“Right.” She tapped her fingers against his desk. “So, if I asked you right now whether there was any infatuation happening here, what would you say?”
Mark opened his mouth to answer—then stopped.
Because he didn’t know.
Diana’s gaze softened, and her voice was gentler when she spoke again. “Look, I’m not saying it’s anything more. But if it was … would that be so bad?”
Mark exhaled slowly, staring at the wall. The thought had never even crossed his mind.
But now, thanks to Diana, it was there .
Lingering.
Settling.
Sinking into his bones in a way that made him just a little uneasy.
As Diana left, Mark sat there, staring at his desk. He wasn’t a man prone to self-reflection. He had spent years not thinking, not feeling—keeping his world structured and predictable. But now, things weren’t so clear.
Because Ethan wasn’t just a contractor.
He wasn’t just a new friend.
He was something .
Mark just wasn’t sure what.