The Offer
Natalie’s POV
The park gates were cold under my hand. At eight in the morning, the gravel paths were mostly empty, save for a single city worker clearing dead leaves near the pavilion. The air smelled of damp earth and the sharp, clean sting of early autumn.
I didn't let myself look behind me.
I had told Daniel the appointment at the clinic was at eight-thirty. I found Marcus by the old willow tree near the edge of the duck pond. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, his heavy wool overcoat unbuttoned, staring at the gray water.
He turned when my boots crunched on the gravel. A small, rare softness touched the corners of his eyes, breaking through his usual executive mask.
"Hey," he said, his voice deep and quiet in the crisp morning air. "How are you doing?"
