As the door clicked shut behind Veronica, Mark leaned back in his chair and exhaled—long, slow, and heavy. The sound echoed in the stillness like an admission he hadn’t meant to make. He tilted his head back and stared blankly at the ceiling, willing the tension in his shoulders to unravel. It didn’t. If anything, it coiled tighter, burrowing into the space between his shoulder blades and anchoring there like regret.
He wasn’t shocked by Veronica’s reaction. Disappointed, yes. But surprised? Not entirely. She had always walked a precarious line between professionalism and personal entitlement, and until now, he’d let her dance along it unchecked. Last night had been the final, undeniable confirmation that he'd allowed boundaries to blur too far, too long.
And now, it was costing him.
He
