140. Go Home

Mark’s smile held for a second longer than necessary. Ashley’s unexpected answer seemed to catch him off guard.

"I thought you’d say you wanted to wait for your husband," he said, watching her with quiet curiosity. "Honestly, I’m a little surprised."

Ashley’s eyes widened instinctively. "Wait—do you have somewhere urgent to be? Oh no, I’m sorry. I’ve already caused you too much trouble." She fumbled over her words, correcting herself almost immediately. "In that case, I’ll wait for Josh instead. You don’t have to stay. I’m sorry."

Her brow tightened with visible guilt, and for a moment she looked like she wished she could take everything back.

"No, no," Mark said quickly, waving a hand in the air. "It’s not that. I’m not bothered. I’m actually glad I get to spend more time with you. I just didn’t expect it—that’s all. You choosing to go home with me instead of waiting for him."

Ashley fell silent. She didn’t know how to respond. His words felt layered, ambiguous in a way that made her stomach twist. Was he teasing her? Was he flirting? Or was it a subtle jab? She couldn’t tell. Especially not with the tone he used—light but edged with something she couldn’t quite name.

She gave a small, awkward laugh and dropped her gaze to the floor, suddenly too aware of the quiet around them. She didn’t dare meet his eyes, not when it felt like they were dissecting her.

Mark must have noticed. He shifted his stance and softened his voice.

"I didn’t mean anything by it. You know that, right?" he said gently. "I’m just... grateful."

That seemed to ease the tension, just a little. Ashley managed to breathe again, the knot in her chest loosening slightly.

But then Mark continued, his words slower, more deliberate.

"If there’s something going on between you and Josh," he said, lowering his gaze, "and if you don’t have anyone else to talk to... I hope you know you can talk to me."

He moved closer, taking a seat beside her at the edge of the hospital bed. The sun outside cast a muted glow through the large window behind her, outlining the faint tremble in her fingers.

Ashley didn’t move. She kept her hands folded neatly on her lap, her posture tense but still. Their arms were close enough that she could feel the warmth from his sleeve, but they didn’t touch. A single handspan of space separated them—and it felt like the last boundary she had.

"I just want you to see me as someone you can trust," Mark said. "Just like before."

He paused. Ashley stayed quiet, letting the silence stretch while her eyes traced the speckled linoleum floor.

"It may never be like it was," Mark admitted. "But I can still be your friend. I still understand you. I think I always did. And I can’t help but feel... there’s something bothering you."

Ashley didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The words sank into her like tiny knives—too gentle to scream, but sharp enough to wound. And the worst part was: he was right. He always had been.

Mark had been the one person who never needed a manual to read her. He didn’t require explanations or clarifications. He saw past her smiles, past her quiet, and somehow always knew when something was wrong. Their time together had been the closest thing to emotional ease she’d ever known. No fear of missteps. No raised voices. No walking on glass.

Just… peace.

Now, sitting beside him after all those years, she felt the ache of absence—raw and undeniable. Not the absence of him, specifically, but the absence of how safe she had once felt. Of how seen she had once been. She hadn’t realized how hollow she’d become until this moment—until his voice reminded her of a version of herself she hadn’t felt in a long time.

And the contrast to her life now was unbearable.

Josh was the opposite of peace. With him, it was always a storm—unpredictable, cold, and lonely in ways that sometimes felt worse than actual solitude. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed the way she just had everytime she was with Mark. Josh even never looked at her like she mattered. Even now, with her still bruised and barely discharged, Josh hadn’t bothered to show up. No apology. Just short messages with cold explanations.

Nothing.

And yet, she was still married to him. At least on paper.

The guilt crawled up her throat, hot and sour. She shouldn’t be thinking this. Shouldn’t be sitting here, next to someone who once held her heart so fully, reminiscing about what-ifs while still wearing a wedding ring. But how could she not?

How could she not compare the silence of the man who vowed to protect her to the presence of the man who never promised anything but showed up anyway?

She blinked fast, hoping the sting in her eyes would fade. It didn’t.

If only she hadn’t let Mark go.

If only she hadn’t been so afraid of the distance. Of losing herself in the stretch of miles instead of fighting for something that had never once hurt her.

If only she’d had the courage to stay.

If only… if only… if only…

Each one of them hit harder than the last. Regret built like pressure behind her chest, and she hated herself for it. Hated that a part of her still longed for what used to be. That she was mourning a past that wasn’t coming back. That in the middle of the worst chapter of her life, the only person she wished she could call wasn’t her husband.

Ashley didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Because she was lost in the noise of her thoughts, too caught up to speak.

The silence between them swelled—thick, loaded, painful.

Mark glanced over, his features shadowed by concern. The flicker of hesitation in his eyes told her he feared he’d crossed a line, said too much.

"Hey," he said softly, backtracking. "You don’t have to say anything now. I didn’t mean to push. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this.”

Ashley still couldn’t find her voice. So she nodded, just enough to acknowledge him. Her eyes dropped to her lap, to the way her fingers twisted against each other like they were desperate to hold on to something. Anything.

She could feel Mark’s gaze still on her. Waiting. Hoping. But he didn’t press.

And for that, she was thankful.

Because if he had, she wasn’t sure what would’ve slipped out. Anger. Heartbreak. The truth.

Or worse—the rest of her feelings that are still left behind.

“Just know the offer’s there. You can come to me—whenever you’re ready. Regardless of what we were or weren’t. That doesn’t matter to me. I still want to be someone you can lean on. If you ever need that."

The sincerity in his voice hung between them, raw and unvarnished.

Ashley finally turned to look at him. Her expression was unreadable—something between gratitude and sorrow.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Mark nodded and stood. The silence between them lingered for a beat longer, then he reached for her suitcase.

"We should probably get going so you can rest at home soon."

Ashley gave a small, tired smile and pushed herself up.

They didn’t speak much as they made their way out of the hospital. Mark wheeled her small suitcase while Ashley walked slowly beside him, still a bit sore, still wrapped in thoughts she couldn’t yet say out loud. But she was glad he was there. Even if it is complicated. Even if she didn’t know what came next.

Right now, she just needed someone who cared enough to show up.

And Mark did.