The Man I Met in My Therapy Group

I've been married to John for 12 years now. We have two kids and our lives are pretty normal. But sometimes, even in the midst of that routine, cracks appear. I started attending a therapy group last year because I was struggling with anxiety and feeling like I wasn't as close to my husband as I used to be. In this group, there's this man named Mark who's been there longer than me. He's older, in his forties, but we've hit it off really well during our sessions. He listens when I speak about feeling disconnected from John and he offers advice that makes a lot of sense to me. We've had some intense eye contact moments where you could tell the connection was more than just therapeutic. Last week, after one session, Mark mentioned how much better I seemed since starting the group and I ended up sharing with him about my relationship struggles. He offered to talk outside of therapy if it would help me feel less alone. I accepted and we met at a coffee shop where he really listened, offering a kind of companionship that felt incredibly supportive. But there was an undercurrent, one night when the lights were low in that dimly lit cafe, I could almost sense something deeper brewing between us. Mark suggested that maybe talking about these feelings with someone who understands isn't enough for me right now, and he asked if it would help to just hold my hand or hug me as a form of comfort. I felt so lost but also strangely relieved at the idea of having this kind of support outside our group setting. The next day though, I woke up with regret. What had happened between us was purely emotional and platonic, even if it pushed boundaries in terms of professional ethics and marital fidelity. I've been feeling like an asshole ever since, knowing that while I didn't act on any deeper feelings or engage in anything physically inappropriate, the whole situation left me questioning my marriage. It's a dark place to be, especially with kids at home who look up to us as parents.