She knew people saw her as “the married woman in the office,” the one who moved through the halls with practiced composure. What they didn’t see — or what she hoped they didn’t — was the quiet ache she carried beneath it. Loneliness had a way of settling into her bones, becoming part of her posture, her silence, her smile. And then there was him. Marcus was fifteen years younger, still figuring out his life, still tethere...