-IRIS-
Mark’s bulky frame filled the lobby, dark eyes soft. Black T‑shirt, black pants, black hair.
All dark, like the heavy air between us.
"Do you have a minute?" he asked, taking a few strides before stopping a careful distance away.
I let out a long breath, his spicy scent wrapping around me. "Hi, Mark."
"Want me to throw him out? My hospital, my rules," Tessa offered, one brow raised.
"It’s okay." I managed a small, sad smile. "I need to talk to him."
Her voice brushed my mind—Shout if you need me. Then, aloud, she added, "Bye, Iris. Mark." She adjusted the strap of her bag and slipped out, leaving the two of us standing in the soft hum of patients murmuring behind the partitions.
"Can I drive you home?" Mark asked. His expression twisted into something awkward. "Please."
"Mh
