Page 17 of The Anniversary Betrayal
He stared at the message. A bitter laugh escaped him.Company.That was what had started it, wasn’t it? One night of companionship spiraling into something that had destroyed his marriage.
His thumbs hovered over the keys. He typed,No. I need space.Then he erased it. Seconds later, another text from her.
I miss you. Don’t shut me out now.
Kingston dropped the phone on the couch like it burned. Rebecca didn’t wait for an invitation. That evening, a knock came at his door. When he opened it, she stood there with takeout bags and a practiced smile.
“King,” she said softly, using the nickname she hadn’t uttered in years. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Feeding you, apparently.” She held up the bags. “You won’t survive on guilt and black coffee. Let me in?”
Every instinct screamednobut his exhaustion won. He stepped aside. They sat at his table, silence heavy. Rebecca unpacked the food, watching him carefully. “You told her, didn’t you?”
His jaw tightened. “She found out.”
Her face softened. “Kingston…”
“Don’t.” His voice cracked sharper than intended. He shoved a hand through his hair. “Don’t say my name like that. You don’t get to be gentle with me. Not now.”
Rebecca reached across the table, her fingers brushing his wrist. “I didn’t mean to cause this. I just… I thought we had something real again.”
He yanked his hand back, shame rising like bile. “We didn’t. We had a mistake I kept making over and over and now I’ve lost her because of it.”
Rebecca’s smile faltered, but she recovered quickly. “You don’t know that. Maybe she’ll come around but in the meantime…” She leaned closer, her voice dipping. “You don’t have to be alone.”
For a second, he felt the pull of comfort, of familiarity but then Ashley’s face flashed in his mind, the devastation in her eyes. He shoved his chair back.
“I can’t do this,” he said, standing. “You should go.”
Her lips parted, stunned. “Kingston—”
“I said go.” His voice shook, not with anger but with the weight of his own ruin.
Rebecca’s eyes darkened. She stood, gathering her things with sharp, deliberate movements. “Fine but don’t pretendshe’ll forgive you so easily. When she finally moves on, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The door clicked behind her, and Kingston sank onto the couch, his chest heaving. He had chosen wrong too many times. This time, he had to stay firm.
???
The mornings were the hardest. Ashley woke to silence where Kingston’s alarm used to blare, to an empty side of the bed that once radiated warmth. The children, blissfully unaware of the storm between their parents, padded into her room in their pajamas.
“Mommy, pancakes?” her daughter asked, climbing onto the bed.
Ashley forced a smile, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Of course, sweetheart. Pancakes it is.”
Routine became her lifeline. She made breakfast, packed lunches, dropped the kids at school. At the hospital, she buried herself in rounds, charts, and patients. Her colleagues noticed the faint shadows under her eyes but didn’t pry until lunch with Carl and Susan.
“You’ve been quieter,” Carl observed, unwrapping his sandwich. “And it’s not like you.”
Ashley sighed, stirring her soup without tasting it. “I’m just… adjusting.”
Susan reached over, touching her hand gently. “You don’t have to do it alone. We’re here.”
Ashley’s throat tightened, but she nodded. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you both.”
They didn’t push further, but their presence was a balm. That evening, Leah came by with a bottle of wine and a fierce hug. “How are you holding up, Ash?”
