Page 4 of The Anniversary Betrayal
Laughter rippled through the group, but Ashley didn’t hear the rest. Her chest ached, the wine in her hand suddenly sour. She excused herself quietly, slipping into the hallway to breathe. She leaned against the wall, her palm pressed flat to her chest as though she could hold her heart in place.So it was true. Not just colleagues. Not just harmless mentions. A history.
When Kingston finally found her, his brow creased with concern. “You okay? You disappeared.”
“Just needed some air,” she said, forcing a smile. He accepted it easily, too easily, guiding her back inside.
The drive home was quiet, the kids asleep at her parents’ house for the night. Ashley stared out the window, watching the city lights smear into streaks. Her fingers toyed with the strap of her clutch, words burning her tongue.
When they pulled into the driveway, she couldn’t hold it anymore.
“Kingston,” she said softly, still looking out the window. “Why didn’t you tell me you and Rebecca used to date?”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Finally, he exhaled, long and slow. “Who told you that?”
“I overheard your classmates tonight.” She turned to face him. “They seemed pretty sure it wasn’t just nothing.”
His jaw tightened. He parked the car but didn’t cut the engine. “It was years ago, Ashley. Before you. Barely a year. It meant nothing.”
“Nothing?” Her voice cracked despite her best effort. “You dated her for a year. People thought you’d get married.”
He ran a hand over his face, irritation flashing in his eyes. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It was college. We were kids. I met you, and she was out of the picture. End of story.”
Ashley’s chest throbbed. “Then why didn’t you ever mention it? Why hide it?”
“Because it wasn’t important!” His voice sharpened, a rare edge that sliced through the night. “I didn’t think it mattered, Ash. And honestly? I don’t appreciate being interrogated about something that happened over a decade ago.”
She flinched at the sharpness, her nails digging into her clutch.
“I’m not interrogating,” she whispered. “I just… I wish you’d been honest. That’s all.”
He shook his head, muttering something under his breath before finally cutting the engine. “I’m tired. Can we not do this tonight?”
Ashley swallowed hard, her throat burning with unshed tears. She nodded, stepping out of the car, the night air cool against her damp cheeks. Inside, she went straight upstairs, undressing in silence while Kingston lingered downstairs. When he finally slipped into bed beside her, his back was turned.
Ashley lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The weight of silence pressed down on her chest, heavier than ever. She’dasked for honesty and been given fragments. She’d pressed for truth and been met with sharpness.
And yet, the deepest cut wasn’t his irritation. It was the confirmation she couldn’t escape that Rebecca wasn’t just some colleague. She was a ghost of Kingston’s past and ghosts had a way of finding their way back.
Chapter Four
Kingston couldn’t sleep. He lay on his back, staring into the darkness, Ashley’s steady breathing beside him. Her back was turned, as it had been every night since the reunion. He hated himself for snapping at her in the car. For the way her voice had gone small when she’d said she just wanted honesty. And yet, the minute she’d asked about Rebecca, he’d felt cornered, exposed. Like someone had ripped a scab off a wound he hadn’t wanted to admit was still bleeding. He turned onto his side, staring at the faint glow of the alarm clock. His chest tightened as his mind drifted backward, years ago, to a time when things were simpler.
He first saw Rebecca Jane in the crowded hallway of their second-year med school building. She had her hair pulled into a messy bun, a stethoscope looped around her neck like she’d been born with it. She was laughing at something one of her friends said, her green eyes bright, her smile infectious.
Kingston remembered thinking,That girl lights up the whole damn room.She wasn’t just beautiful. She was magnetic. Confident in a way most twenty-year-olds weren’t. When she looked at you, it was as if you were the only person that mattered. They met properly a week later in the library, both reaching for the same pharmacology text. Their handsbrushed, and she teased him about needing it more than he did. He teased her back about never studying. That was the beginning.
Their relationship bloomed quickly. Study sessions turned into late-night coffee runs. Coffee runs turned into dinners. Dinners turned into weekends spent tangled in sheets, their textbooks forgotten on the floor. For nearly a year, Rebecca was his world. They were inseparable, the kind of couple that drew knowing smiles from classmates. She challenged him, made him laugh, made him feel like he could conquer anything but it wasn’t perfect.
Rebecca had a restless streak and she wanted more than what was in front of her. More attention, more adventure, more everything. She talked often about leaving after med school, maybe working abroad, maybe specializing in something glamorous. Kingston, in contrast, craved stability. He wanted roots. A family. A home to come back to after grueling shifts. Their differences came to a head one night after exams, when Rebecca confessed she wasn’t sure she wanted the same future he did.
“I don’t want to be tied down too young,” she’d said, twirling her wine glass, her tone casual but her words sharp. “Marriage, kids, it’s not for me. Not yet.”
Kingston remembered staring at her, a weight settling in his chest. He’d already imagined a future with her, but in that moment, he knew they were heading in opposite directions so he ended it. She cried. He did too, though he never admitted it to anyone and just like that, Rebecca Jane became a memory.
Ashley Kennedy wasn’t a spark. She was a slow burn. He met her during his residency. She was on pediatrics, and he’dbeen pulled in for a consult. He remembered walking into the ward and finding her kneeling beside a scared little boy, holding his hand and making him laugh despite the IV taped to his arm. Her kindness was the first thing he noticed. Her laugh was the second. Ashley didn’t demand attention the way Rebecca had. She was steady, grounded. She worked hard, cared harder, and carried herself with a quiet strength that drew him in.
At first, he just admired her from a distance. Then came coffee breaks, small conversations, shared complaints about lack of sleep. Somewhere in the blur of endless rotations, admiration grew into something deeper. He fell for her slowly but completely, like rain soaking into dry earth. Their first date wasn’t glamorous. A cheap diner, greasy fries, and coffee that tasted like burnt rubber but she made it feel special. She made him feel special.
