Page 35 of Her Ohio Old Flame

“What he did to you was a violation of trust and power.”

Asha’s stomach tightened, her jaw clenching as the memory of his voice echoed in her mind. That deep, resonant tone, laced with charm, had once made her feel seen, valued. Now it made her skin crawl. How could she have been so blind?

She pushed off the counter and crossed to the sink, turning on the faucet to wash the potatoes. It was nice to hear something other than the relentless noise in her head. The rush of water wasn’t enough to drown out Maddy’s next words.

“If he did this to you, he could do it to someone else—or worse, he might already have.”

Her chest ached at the thought. It wasn’t only her anymore. What if there were others? What if he’d used that same charm, that same calculated attention, to hurt someone else? The idea of another girl—or boy—feeling the way she had made her throat tighten.

And yet, the fear of speaking up felt insurmountable.

“But what if no one believes me?”

Her voice from that day rang in her ears, and she winced. It had sounded so weak, so spineless. Exactly how she felt now.

She turned off the faucet with a sharp twist, the rush of the water abruptly silenced. The quiet pressed in again, heavy and suffocating. She drifted her gaze to the table, where her laptop sat closed next to a half-empty cup of tea. The tea had gone cold hours ago, but she hadn’t bothered to heat it up. She hadn’t been able to focus long enough to finish it, let alone do anything productive.

Asha dropped into a chair, leaning forward and pressing her palms into her temples. Normally, she thrived under pressure. She’d built a career on her ability to compartmentalize, to set aside emotions, and focus on the task at hand. But this wasn’twork. This wasn’t some abstract legal problem she could solve with logic and a well-crafted argument.

This was personal. Messy. Painful.

She groaned, sitting back and letting her head fall against the chair. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, but her thoughts remained inward, circling the same questions again and again.

Why now? Why had this all come crashing back the moment she’d seen him in the grocery store? She’d spent years burying it, locking it away in a box labeledDo Not Open. It wasn’t supposed to matter anymore. She wasn’t that naive teenager anymore, so why did she feel so small? So helpless?

She tapped her foot against the floor, an unconscious rhythm that betrayed her irritation. Not with him—though that anger simmered constantly beneath the surface—but with herself. She should be better than this. Stronger. More in control.

She huffed out a bitter laugh.Control.What a joke. She hadn’t felt in control since she’d set foot back in Peaceful. Zane, her parents, the town itself—it was all pulling her in directions she hadn’t planned for. And now this.

Maddy’s words resurfaced again.

“It’s not about them, Asha. It’s about you—and about protecting others who might be at risk.”

Asha rubbed her hands over her face, frustration prickling at her skin. Protecting others. The idea gnawed at her, as relentless as her own memories. She didn’t owe anyone anything, did she? She’d done what she had to survive, to move on. But the faces of those kids in the grocery store—the ones laughing and joking as they grabbed snacks from the shelves—haunted her. Could one of them be next?

She slammed her hands onto the table and pushed herself to her feet. The movement was too abrupt, and the chair scraped loudly against the floor. The sound jarred her, but it wasn’t enough to shake the burgeoning tension in her chest.

She crossed to the window, pulled back the curtain, and stared out at the quiet street. Her neighbors’ cars were parked neatly in their driveways. Kids’ bikes leaned against fences. The peaceful scene only made her feel more out of place.

Was she supposed to be the one to shatter that peace? To throw a stone into the calm waters of this town and watch the ripples spread?

Her reflection in the glass caught her attention, and she frowned at the woman staring back at her. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, stray strands framing her tired face. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed the sleepless nights she hadn’t been able to shake. She looked like a stranger to herself—worn down, unsure.

She leaned her forehead against the cool glass. Maybe Maddy was right. Maybe it wasn’t about whether people believed her. Maybe it was about standing up, about refusing to let him hold that power over her.

But the thought of saying the words aloud, of exposing herself like that, made her stomach twist. What if it changed everything? What if she couldn’t go back?

Asha closed her eyes, her breath fogging the glass. She stayed like that for a long moment, listening to the faint hum of the refrigerator behind her, the creak of the house settling.

Her thoughts drifted to Zane. He was one of the few steady things in her life right now, even if she wasn’t sure she deserved him. What would he think if he knew? Would he understand, or would he see her differently?

Her chest tightened. She didn’t want his pity. She wanted his love, his respect. But to keep that, she’d have to keep this part of her hidden, wouldn’t she?

The knot in her stomach pulled tighter. She shook her head, let the curtain fall back in place, and stepped away from the window, pacing again.

“I’ll figure it out,” she muttered to herself, the words hollow. She wasn’t sure she believed them, but they were all she had.

The sharp rap on the door jolted Asha from her thoughts. She placed the knife down carefully on the cutting board and wiped her hands on the towel draped over her shoulder. A distraction was welcome—anything to stop her spiraling thoughts. Yet, as she went to the door, a knot of anticipation tightened in her stomach.

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