"Abigail."
His voice snapped through the room like a whip, sharp and commanding. I froze, my hand tightening around the laptop clutched against my chest. My back stiffened, every instinct screaming at me to keep walking—to put as much distance between us as possible.
But something in his voice... It wasn't just anger. There was something darker, something unresolved that rooted me in place against my better judgment.
Slowly, I turned, meeting Mark's piercing gaze. His expression was a storm barely contained—frustration, resentment... and something dangerously close to hurt.
"What?" My voice was steadier than I felt, clipped and distant. A thin shield against whatever he was about to hurl my way.
His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, his hands clenched at his sides. "You think you can just walk out when things get hard? Run the second I call you out?"
