Page 3 of The Anniversary Betrayal
“Busy ER night,” he continued, not noticing the way her shoulders stiffened.
Ashley forced a smile. “Sounds like it.”
But that night, when she rolled over in bed and reached for him, Kingston turned away, mumbling something about being tired. Ashley stared at the ceiling, her heart aching with the silence between them. The breaking point came a few nights later.
Kingston was in the shower, steam curling beneath the bathroom door. Ashley sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping through a parenting magazine she wasn’t really reading. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the vibration rattling against the wood. She glanced at it, intending to ignore it but then she saw the name.
Rebecca.
Her chest tightened. Before she could stop herself, her hand reached out. She wasn’t the type to snoop—God, she hated women who did but her instincts screamed louder than her conscience. The message glowed on the screen.
“Ten years, and I still wonder what could have been.”
Ashley’s throat closed. Her hands trembled as she set the phone back down, her pulse hammering in her ears. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
What could have been.
Her mind spiraled. The shower shut off. The sound of the curtain scraping open snapped her back. She scrambled to grab the magazine, flipping it open as if she’d been engrossed the whole time. Kingston walked out, towel around his waist, water glistening on his skin. He smiled absently, running a hand through his damp hair.
“Hey,” he said casually, as if nothing was wrong. As if her world hadn’t just tilted off its axis.
Ashley forced her lips into a smile, her voice steady though her heart was breaking. “Hey.”
That night, when Kingston fell asleep beside her, Ashley lay awake staring into the dark. His breathing was steady, even. Peaceful. She wanted to shake him awake, shove the phone in his face, and demand answers but the kids were asleep down the hall. Their little lives were built on the foundation of this marriage. If she shattered it in one reckless moment, the cracks would spread through them too.
So she stayed silent but inside her, something shifted. It was the first hairline fracture in the perfect picture they’d painted for ten years. The first small shadow creeping across the life she thought was safe. Ashley knew shadows only grew darker if you ignored them and no matter how much she wanted to protect her children’s image of their father, she couldn’t shake the feeling that protecting herself might soon matter more.
Chapter Three
Ashley woke to the smell of pancakes. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe everything was fine. Kingston was in the kitchen, the kids giggling as he flipped batter onto the griddle, his voice bright and playful. A snapshot of family life. The kind of moment people posted on social media with captions about love and gratitude but Ashley knew better now.
She sat at the table, coffee cooling in her hands, watching the scene unfold like a play she wasn’t part of. She smiled at the right times, laughed when her son made a mess with syrup, but her chest remained heavy. Kingston glanced at her once or twice, his eyes unreadable, as though he sensed the shift but wasn’t ready to name it. For the kids, she swallowed her unease. She buttoned up her fears like a white coat before rounds, hiding the stains beneath.
The following week, Kingston mentioned his upcoming medical school reunion.
“It’s at The Marlowe downtown. Fancy place,” he said, tossing the invitation onto the counter. “Spouses are invited. I figured we should go.”
Ashley lifted the card, the embossed lettering catching the light. A part of her wanted to say no. To claim she was too tired, too busy, anything to avoid standing beside him ina room full of half-truths but another part, the braver part wanted to go. Wanted to see. “Of course,” she said evenly. “It’ll be fun.”
The Marlowe’s ballroom shimmered with chandeliers and the low hum of nostalgia. A slideshow of grainy photos from their student days played on a screen, drawing laughter and groans in equal measure. Ashley stood at Kingston’s side, glass of wine in hand, nodding politely as he introduced her to old classmates. She smiled through stories of all-nighters and on the surface, it was pleasant but Ashley kept scanning the crowd, her eyes searching for Rebecca.
And then she saw her.
Rebecca stood near the bar, striking in a crimson dress that clung in all the right places. She laughed, head tilted back, her hand brushing Kingston’s arm when they greeted each other. Ashley’s stomach coiled tight. She turned away, pretending to admire the slideshow. Her ears, though, caught everything.
Later, while Kingston stepped aside to talk to an old professor, Ashley found herself lingering near a group of his classmates. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it wasn’t her style but the words froze her in place.
“Remember when Kingston and Rebecca were inseparable?” one man chuckled, swirling his drink. “We all thought they’d end up married.”
Ashley’s breath caught.
Another woman laughed softly. “They were like the golden couple of second year. Always together. The way she used to bring him coffee before rounds? God, I was jealous.”
“Yeah,” the man added, lowering his voice just enough to sting. “And then out of nowhere, it ended. No one knew why. She was heartbroken, though. Took her ages to move on.”
Ashley’s pulse roared in her ears. She stared at the floor, willing her expression to stay calm, casual, invisible.
“Funny how life works,” the woman mused. “Now here they are, in the same city, same hospital… fate’s got a wicked sense of humor.”
