Chapter 60 Katie Morrow
Katie Morrow
“I always told Katie, if she ever wanted to leave him, she could come home. A woman should always have a place to go.”
Katie retrieved a small suitcase and wheeled it into the closet, setting it on the couch. From his spot at the sink, a string of floss in hand, Mark watched.
She flipped through the hangers, pulling off a red blouse and a belted jumpsuit.
She pulled out two folded cashmere sweaters and a few pairs of jeans.
Overkill for one night, but maybe she’d stay mad and extend the trip a few more nights.
After dropping the items into the suitcase, she crouched down, looking at her flats.
“Katie, you don’t have to do this.” The objection had less starch than one of his suits.
It was as if he wanted her to leave, and that was the most infuriating part of all this.
Honestly, when she’d first announced that she was going to spend the night at her parents’, it was really just a ploy for attention.
Only her husband hadn’t reacted in any of the ways she had hoped for and expected.
According to Willow, Mark had freaked out and practically imprisoned her in an attempt to keep her in the marriage.
I left in a hurry because I had to. I left and I hid where he couldn’t find me.
“I don’t like feeling like the third wheel in my own marriage, Mark.” Katie grabbed a red suede pair of ballet flats and a shoe bag, zipping it around them and adding it to the suitcase.
He worked the piece of floss through his teeth, and it felt like an easy way to avoid responding. He was going to do it. He was going to let her leave without really trying to stop her.
She brushed past him and into her side of the bathroom. If he knew that she was pregnant, would that make a difference? The problem was, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t about to use that as a card to push her husband into fighting for her—for them.
“Do you know what she told me?” She yanked open the second drawer and withdrew one of the travel bags. “She thinks you aren’t over her.”
He managed to remove his hands from his mouth. “Katie. Come on. You don’t think that.”
“I’m not sure.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I mean, you guys are having silent conversations with your eyes every time I’m in the room.”
He snorted out a laugh. “That’s ridiculous.
You’re paranoid. Look—Willow and I are old news.
You know that. I don’t even know why we’re discussing that.
If you want some time away, I get that. A lot is happening right now, with the cops and the questioning .
. . I don’t blame you for not wanting to deal with it. ”
She spun around to look at him. “Oh my God. You’re trying to talk me into leaving!”
“So now you’re going to be mad at me for sympathizing with you?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, Katie. I swear, I can’t win with you.”
Here it was, the switch to blaming her. Next he would start to get pissed, and she already knew how this would end. Her apologizing as he stewed and punished her with stony silence. Well, screw that. Not tonight.
He may want her to leave right now, but he would regret this later. She shoved items into the bag and hurried past him, stuffing it into the suitcase and zipping it closed.
She hoisted the suitcase off the sofa and onto the floor, raising the arm and wheeling it toward the door. She exited the suite, and he followed without saying anything, and if there was ever a time to hold his tongue, this wasn’t it.
She paused at the long bank of stairs, and he materialized beside her and picked up the suitcase.
“Here, I’ll get that for you.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and followed him down the stairs.
At the bottom, Willow waited, her shrewd gaze immediately understanding the situation.
Katie met her eyes, and she didn’t have Mark’s mind-reading ability.
She didn’t understand what the look on Willow’s face meant, only that it didn’t look happy but it didn’t look upset either.
Mark carried the suitcase all the way to her Porsche, where he put it in the back seat. When she got behind the wheel, he blocked her from closing the door with his body.
“Mark, stop,” she said, but there was no fight in the words.
“Meet me for breakfast. At Soleman’s. We’ll talk. I’ll tell you everything.”
Everything. She hadn’t known that there was an everything. “Tell me everything now,” she demanded.
He pinned his lips together and glanced back to the house. “I can’t. I have to take care of a few things. But tomorrow morning, okay? Nine o’clock. Or ten. Whatever. You tell me. I’ll be there.”
She clenched her jaw and reached up, hitting the garage door opener. “Move out of the way.”
He stepped back and allowed her to close the door. She put the SUV into reverse and backed out, refusing to look at him as she swung the back end around and then accelerated down the drive.
Was it a mistake, leaving them alone together for a night?
Maybe.
Probably.
But she wasn’t sure you could lose something you didn’t have to begin with. And she was beginning to realize she had been borrowing another woman’s husband this entire time.