Chapter Two
The office was quiet as most people had left for a lunch meeting that didn't involve him or Kate.
The sun striped the carpet through the blinds, as Mark leaned against the edge of Kate's desk, watching her grin at something he'd said.
She had that easy, bright laugh that made you feel like you'd just said the wittiest thing in the world.
"Stop, you're going to get me in trouble for laughing too loud," she teased, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Please," Mark said, smiling back. "Most of the office already left. We could set off fireworks and no one would care."
She gave him a look—playful, deliberate—and her gaze dropped to his mouth before returning to his eyes. The air between them carried that charge that was becoming familiar. When she shifted, her knee grazed his. He didn't move away.
The kiss happened almost naturally. It wasn't the first between them. She lingered, then whispered, "Maybe it's time we took this to the next level. I think I'm falling in love with you, Mark."
His pulse kicked up. There was no mistaking what she was asking for—something bigger than stolen moments and kisses.
Moving in together? Ending his marriage?
It was moving fast, and suddenly he thought they might be getting ahead of themselves.
"I care about you a lot too," he admitted, "and I keep thinking about what it would be like to have more with you.
" He kissed her lightly and pulled back to meet her gaze.
"But... I need to figure things out with Tessa first. I can't—"
"You don't have to explain," she said, laying a hand lightly on his forearm. "I just want you to know I'm here. Whatever you need."
That was how she always framed it—as a kindness. Maybe that's why it was so easy to keep letting the boundary blur.
Later, at his desk, Mark stared at the open spreadsheet without seeing it. He thought about the first time he'd noticed her—the new hire with the fresh degree, sharp and confident, her quick wit making long meetings bearable. She was smart and fun and full of energy, a kind he hadn't felt in years.
It had started innocently enough.
They'd been assigned to a high-profile project—hours side by side brainstorming concepts, long drives to client meetings, a stream of late-night emails with sketches and references.
They clicked from the start. She often finished his thoughts, sometimes pushing them further than he would have on his own.
He began to look forward to her quick retorts and their small, conspiratorial jokes—bits of shorthand no one else in the office shared.
Kate was attractive, but it was more than that. She was engaged, present, and unapologetically attentive. With her, he felt like a different version of himself—lighter, quicker, more alive.
At home, things with Tessa were... fine, but their conversations revolved around school schedules, grocery lists, and repairs.
Family mattered—of course it did—but somewhere along the way his identity as an interesting, creative person felt absorbed into the roles of husband and father.
He remembered when Tessa used to talk about going back to school for fashion design; that dream had been pushed to the back burner, her days swallowed by the kids and the house.
It wasn't her fault that she couldn't track the details of his projects, though she had done her best to ask him about his day when he came home.
She did show interest in his work, but she didn't really get him anymore. Her life revolved around the house, the kids, her ladies’ group at church.
He tried not to look bored when she told him about her day, but compared to the sizzling conversations with Kate, their nightly debriefs fell flat.
More and more, he caught himself drifting mid-conversation, thinking instead of Kate's witty texts and the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed at something he said.
The project he and Kate were assigned to was genuinely demanding, and at first, the long hours made sense.
Mark had been leaving early and coming home late, and Tessa understood that it was because of the workload.
But gradually, the late meetings became less about deadlines and more about lingering with Kate—sharing confidences, laughing at private jokes, letting their connection deepen in ways he hadn't planned.
Even at home, his phone would buzz with her texts, which he let Tessa believe were work-related.
He knew he was being dishonest, and the shame of it gnawed at him.
But time with Kate had become addictive, and he didn't have the will to pull away.
Kate shared pieces of her life with him—a painful childhood, parents' divorce, juggling jobs to pay for school, the recent end of an engagement that still smarted. She moved through the world with a mix of resilience and drive that drew him in.
In return, Mark opened up about inner conflicts he'd never voiced to Tessa.
He admitted that sometimes it felt like he'd skipped a whole chapter of life—the years when his peers were dating different people, going to parties, traveling, or just being reckless without consequence.
He had only ever been with one woman, and at nineteen he was already married with a baby on the way.
Now, almost thirty, he wondered what those years might have looked like if he'd had the freedom to live them.
A seed of resentment had started to take root, and he was finding it harder and harder to ignore.
Kate didn't judge; she just listened, eyes warm, head tilted, giving him the kind of attention that made honesty feel easy.
Then, one afternoon after a client meeting, they lingered in the parking lot a little too long.
The kiss wasn't planned or discussed—just the inevitable next step in something that had been building for weeks.
Though guilt shadowed him afterwards, stolen kisses became more frequent, and he caught himself wondering what it would be like to push further.
He told himself that this was he how he should have been at twenty—single, free, chasing experiences instead of mortgage payments.
At twenty he'd been a husband, a father, working overtime to keep the lights on.
He had missed out on something essential and was it so wrong to try to make up for it now?
Tessa was warmth and home, yes—but also the weight of responsibility: bills, schedules, the steady march of adult life. Kate was something else entirely. With her, he felt like a man who could still be young, who could still choose.
And yet, sitting there with the taste of Kate still on his lips, a knot tightened in his chest. He was confused—about what he wanted, about what he still felt for Tessa.
They'd been together so long he couldn't pinpoint when excitement had become comfort.
When was the last time he had felt that heart-stopping thrill when they kissed?
He couldn't deny that she was a wonderful person.
She deserved someone who was fully present and head over heels in love with her, and to be honest, he didn't know if he was anymore. Didn't they both deserve more?
Maybe. But before he went any further—before he drifted past the point of no return—he needed to talk to Tessa. He needed to know where they stood.
He shut down his computer, grabbed his coat, and told himself it was time to find out.