When Mary pulled her hands away from Mark's face, the memory came to an end.
She'd shown him all of it through that simple touch, pouring it directly into his mind.
Mary hadn't held anything back.
She'd shown him every memory exactly as it happened, no excuses, no embellishment, and above all, no attempt to present herself as someone better than she'd actually been.
That was exactly why the silence was so hard to bear now.
Mark still lay beside her, motionless, his eyes lost in the dimness as he processed everything.
Mary studied his expression with a mix of fear and hope, watching for any shift, any gesture that might tell her what he was feeling.
But there was nothing.
And with every second that passed, the anxiety grew harder to bear.
Because that stillness was exactly what she'd feared most.
Mary didn't know if, after seeing the truth, he'd hate her for what she'd done to Rebecca, or for taking advantage of him at his lowest point.
