Chapter 4: The Line I Crossed

Marcus’s POV

The second my thumb brushed against her lips, I knew I had crossed a line. And the worst part was that It didn't start there, It started the moment she walked through that door yesterday… looking like something fragile had just been shattered inside her.

She was trying too hard to hold herself together, to not crumble and break down, and I should have kept my distance. I should’ve treated her like what she was—Diane’s daughter, but the first thing that crossed my mind when I saw her was how do I make her feel better.

I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over my face as I leaned back against the wall, replaying the moment my thumb brushed her lips again.

The way she froze, the way I didn't pull fast enough, the way she ate her meal quickly and bolted. I’d made it worse by just standing there.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She was Diane’s daughter, the same daughter who hadn’t even shown up to the wedding, the one Diane had described as difficult. Stubborn. Spoiled.

Except that she wasn't all of that at all.

In the short time she’d been here, Sophia had been more present than Diane had been all week.

She talked, listened, and for some reason she didn't treat me like I was just there.

That alone should’ve been enough reason to stay away. Instead, I’d done the exact opposite by offering to cook for her. I let out a sigh and walked toward the bedroom.

Diane was already dressed when I walked in, standing in front of the mirror as she adjusted her earrings. She glanced at me briefly through the reflection.

“I know we've not talked about Sophia, but just ignore her,” she said, completely unfazed, “I’m sure she won't be here for long.”

“That’s why you think I'm here?” I asked. The first sign of our shaky marriage should be the fact that we slept separately.

Diane didn't even give me a perfect reason for that development, it just suddenly happened.

Diane brushed her hair slowly.

“I know that's why you're here, so I'm letting you know she's dramatic and always desperate for attention. She missed my wedding, barely called, disappeared for years and now she shows up expecting…” She waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t even know what she expects.”

I stared at her and wondered how two people could exist in the same house and feel like strangers.

“Do you actually know what she went through before coming back?” I asked.

Diane paused briefly before picking up her bag. “I didn’t chase her away,” she said. “She made her choices.”

“She’s your daughter.”

“And she’s an adult.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

Diane turned to face me fully, studying me for a second like she was trying to figure out where this was coming from, then she smiled like none of it mattered. She stepped closer and placed a quick peck on my cheek. “Let’s end this conversation,” she said lightly. “I’m heading out for work now.”

She walked away without even waiting for my response, the door closing behind her with a soft click. I let out a slow breath, shaking my head slightly.

Work. Always work. It was almost impressive how easily she could detach from everything else—me, her daughter, our marriage.

With each moment we spent together, it became even more worse.

To clear my head, I stepped into the bathroom to have a cold shower, hoping it'd wipe every thought of Diane from my brain so I could focus on work.

~~~~

By the time I stepped into my home office, dressed and composed, I’d already pushed the morning out of my mind.

Or that was what I thought.

My laptop screen glowed in front of me as I went through a few reports, responding to emails and reviewing schedules.

Sometime later, a knock sounded on the door.

I hesitated.

Since Diane wasn't home, it was definitely Sophia. Pressing my lips together, I mumbled a quick “come in” and focused back on work.

The door opened softly and the scent of freshly brewed coffee weaved with vanilla filled my senses. She stood near my door, holding a glass of coffee in both hands like she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself.

“I, um…” she started, stepping in slightly. “I just wanted to say thank you for what you did earlier.”

My gaze dropped briefly to the cup, then back to her.

“And I realized you’ve been here all day, so… I thought you might want some coffee.”

There was something almost careful about the way she spoke, almost like she didn't want to overstep or be too forward. I leaned back slightly in my chair.

“You made this?”

She nodded. “Yeah, to return the favor.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips despite myself. I reached out and took the glass from her.

“Thank you.”

Our fingers brushed briefly, and her hand pulled back a little too quickly. I tried to hide what that single moment did to me. Bringing the glass cup to my lips, I took a small sip.

“Not bad.”

Her lips curved slightly. “Not bad?”

I tilted my head. “Alright. It’s good.”

“That’s better.”

I laughed, watching as she moved further into the room, glancing around my office like she was trying to understand what exactly I did in here.

“So…what exactly do you do in here all day?” she finally asked. “Top secret stuff?”

I huffed a quiet laugh. “Something like that.”

“Are you going to tell me?” she pressed, stepping closer to the desk.

“No.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Wow, you’re really serious about this mystery thing.”

“I like my privacy.”

“Or you just enjoy being difficult.”

“Maybe both.”

Her lips slowly pulled up into a small smile. She looked brighter than yesterday, and it made me feel quite fulfilled. She kept glancing around the office, asking small, random questions about everything, and I even ended up telling her about one of my missions years ago.

We kept acting like this morning meant nothing, but I already knew it was only a matter of time before we crossed that line again.