BEHIND HIS WALLS

Chapter 15

For the next two weeks, Mara became very good at pretending. She pretended she didn't notice when Sean looked up whenever she walked into a room. She pretended she didn't feel the difference in the air whenever they were alone. She even pretended that the coffee she'd started making only for herself didn't somehow taste different when she knew his office was just across the hall.

Most importantly, she pretended she wasn't waiting for him to change his mind.

And Sean pretended too.

He became exactly the boss he'd been on her first day—precise, demanding, controlled, and impossible to read. If she presented an argument, he challenged it. If she made a mistake, he corrected it. If she did well, he simply nodded and moved on. There were no lingering conversations, no quiet jokes shared between them, no accidental touches, and no more Good work, Whitfield spoken in that low voice that had somehow become one of the things she looked forward to most.

It should have been easier.

Instead, it was exhausting.

The Halloran trial was now less than a week away, and the entire firm seemed to be holding its breath. Every meeting lasted longer than it should. Every document was checked twice. Every witness was rehearsed until Mara could practically recite their answers before they spoke. The pressure was everywhere, hanging over the thirty-first floor like a storm nobody could see but everyone could feel.

On Thursday evening, Mara was still at the office at ten when Duke appeared beside her desk and dropped another stack of files in front of her.

"You planning to sleep at some point?"

"Eventually."

That's optimistic."

Mara smiled faintly and looked back down at the documents, but Duke didn't immediately walk away. He studied her for a moment, his expression becoming more serious.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

He gave her a look.

"You know, people who say they're fine usually aren't."

"I'm really fine."

He started walking away, but after a few steps he stopped and looked back.

"Whatever you're waiting for, Whitfield..."

Mara lifted her eyes.

Duke's expression softened.

"Don't wait forever."

Then he left.

Mara stared after him, her stomach tightening.

Because somehow, everyone seemed to know what she was trying so hard not to admit to herself.

She closed the file in front of her and leaned back in her chair. Tomorrow was Friday—the final trial preparation day. After that, there would be no more excuses. No more late-night document reviews. No more reasons to stand in Sean's office for hours after everyone else had gone home. No more opportunities to convince herself that something might change if she simply waited long enough.

And maybe that was exactly what she needed.

A clean ending.

Friday morning arrived with rain.

Mara walked into the conference room at six forty-five, carrying her files and coffee. Everyone was already there, including Sean.

He looked up when she entered.

Their eyes met.

For one brief moment, something flickered between them.

Then it disappeared.

"Morning."

"Morning."

She took her seat, opened her notebook, and prepared herself for the final preparation meeting.

The next three hours passed in a blur of witness schedules, exhibits, arguments, objections, and last-minute strategy. Everything had to be perfect. There was no room for uncertainty anymore. The trial was coming, and after weeks of preparation, there was nowhere left to hide.

Eventually, Sean reached the final item on his list.

"Mara."

She looked up.

"Yes?"

"You're handling the timeline."

She nodded. "I know."

You'll have to walk the jury through it clearly. Don't rush."

"I won't."

"And if they try to distract you—"

"I bring them back to the dates."

A pause settled over the room.

Sean's eyes held hers.

"Exactly."

For one brief second, something almost like pride appeared in his expression.

It was there only for a moment, but Mara saw it.

Then he looked away.

That's all."

The room slowly began to empty. Chairs scraped against the floor, files were gathered, and conversations started in low voices as everyone prepared for the final weekend before trial.

Mara collected her papers and slipped them into her folder. She was almost at the door when she heard his voice behind her.

"Whitfield."

She turned.

Sean was still sitting at the table, his hands resting loosely on the documents in front of him.

"Yes?"

He hesitated.

It was barely noticeable, a fraction of a second in which he seemed to reconsider whatever he was about to say.

Mara noticed.

"Good luck Monday."

Something about the words made her smile.

"Thanks."

She waited.

For just a moment, Sean looked as though he wanted to say something else. His eyes stayed on hers, and the silence between them felt heavier than it should have.

But he didn't say anything.

So Mara turned and walked out.

Neither of them knew it yet, but Monday was going to change everything.