Chapter 82: Mark's Ultimatum

Olivia sat on her bed, cross-legged with pillows behind her back, as the soft light of the bedside lamp created tolled shadows on the dependent walls of the bedroom. With a pen in between her fingers, she drew something absentmindedly on her notebook. Her house was rocket silent, save for the gentle ticking of the wall clock and, sometimes, a rustle of paper. This peaceful moment was broken by Mark's uncharacteristically tense voice. "We need to talk, Liv." Olivia glanced up from her notebook, her pencil frozen in the middle of a sentence. Mark's tall frame was silhouetted in the doorway, his usually warm brown eyes veiled by some emotion she couldn't quite place. Worry? Anger? Fear? Some of each, perhaps?. "Okay," she said softly, closing her sketchbook. "What's on your mind?" Mark entered the room, sitting on the edge of the bed very rigidly but with his hands clasped tightly together on his lap. "It's about Nathan," he started, his voice strained. "His presence in our lives. It'