Page 5 of The Anniversary Betrayal
A year later, he proposed. Not with fireworks or fanfare, but in their tiny apartment, kneeling awkwardly on the carpet with a ring he’d saved for months to buy. Her yes had been breathless, her eyes shining, and for the first time in a long time, he believed he’d found exactly what he’d been searching for. Their wedding was simple. A modest ceremony with family and close friends. Rebecca didn’t cross his mind once that day. Or the day after. Or the year after that. With Ashley, life unfolded in all the ways he’d dreamed. They bought a house, had children, built careers side by side. She was his partner in every sense, steady when he faltered, warm when the world turned cold. For years, he thought he’d closed the door on Rebecca Jane.
It was two years into his marriage when he saw her again. Kingston had been walking through the hospital corridorwhen he heard her laugh, the same unmistakable sound that had once hooked him. He turned, and there she was. Rebecca Jane, older now, sharper somehow, but just as magnetic.
She smiled when she saw him. “Kingston Robert. Of all places.”
At first, it was nothing. Just colleagues, as it should have been. They nodded in passing, exchanged polite hellos. Occasionally, they covered shifts together, small talk filling the space between patient charts but small talk grew. It started with reminiscing, funny stories from med school, the professors they’d both loathed. Then came the personal questions. How was Ashley? How were the kids? Did he ever miss the old days? He’d answered honestly. Too honestly.
Rebecca had a way of listening that made him feel… seen. Not just as Dr. Robert, husband, father, provider but as the man beneath all that. The man who sometimes felt buried under the weight of responsibility. He told himself it was harmless. That he could be friends with her. That his marriage was solid enough to withstand an old flame flickering back into his life but affection has a way of growing quietly, like ivy through cracks. One day you think you’re in control, the next you’re tangled.
He didn’t remember the exact moment it shifted. Maybe it was when she touched his arm during a late-night shift, her fingers lingering a fraction too long. Maybe it was when she admitted she still thought about him sometimes. Maybe it was the night they stayed behind after rounds, talking until dawn, and he realized he didn’t want to leave. By then, he knew he was in dangerous territory and yet, he didn’t stop.
Kingston sat up in bed now, scrubbing his hands over his face. How did I let it get this far? He loved Ashley. God, hedid. She was his wife, the mother of his children, the person who had stood beside him through every storm. He wanted to protect her, to keep their life intact but Rebecca… she was a ghost resurrected, reminding him of who he used to be. Of a time before bills and diapers and endless night shifts. She made him feel alive, wanted, reckless.
And yet, every time he looked at Ashley, guilt gutted him. He thought of her eyes at the reunion, the way they’d shimmered with hurt when she asked about Rebecca. The way her voice had cracked when she whispered she just wanted honesty. He’d brushed it off, snapped at her, because admitting the truth would shatter everything but lying was shattering her too. Kingston lay back down, staring at the ceiling, his mind a battlefield of past and present, desire and duty, love and betrayal. He didn’t know how much longer he could walk this line without falling.
Chapter Five
The cafeteria smelled faintly of coffee and food, the scent that clung to hospital walls no matter how sterile they tried to keep the place. Ashley sat across from Carl and Susan, their trays lined with half-eaten sandwiches and plastic cups of water.
Carl leaned back in his chair, loosening the knot of his tie. “You’re quiet today, Ash. That’s not like you. Usually, you’re the one teasing me about my tragic choice of lunch.”
Ashley stirred her soup absently, not really hungry. “Maybe I’m giving you a break.”
“Unlikely,” Susan said with a small smile. She was always perceptive, always watching. “Something’s up. I can tell.”
Ashley forced a laugh, the sound brittle even to her own ears. “Nothing’s up. Just tired. Kids, work, life, you know the drill.”
But Carl wasn’t buying it. “Come on, I’ve known you too long. You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one that says you’re trying to carry the world on your back without asking for help.” His voice softened. “What’s going on?”
Ashley hesitated. It wasn’t like her to spill personal things at work. Hospitals were gossip mills; whispers traveled fasterthan lab results but Carl and Susan weren’t just colleagues. They were friends. People she’d trusted for years.
She lowered her spoon and folded her hands in her lap. “It’s Kingston.”
Susan tilted her head, her dark eyes narrowing with concern. “Is he okay?”
Ashley exhaled. “I don’t know. He’s…different lately. Distracted. Always on his phone, late nights at work and then—” She stopped herself. Saying Rebecca’s name felt too dangerous, too raw, like giving shape to something she wasn’t ready to confront out loud.
“And then what?” Carl pressed gently.
Ashley glanced around the cafeteria, making sure no one else was listening. “I found a message on his phone the other night. From a woman.”
Neither Carl nor Susan spoke immediately, but their silence was heavy with implication.
Ashley pushed through it. “It said…‘Ten years, and I still wonder what could have been.’”
Susan’s lips parted, her hand tightening around her coffee cup. “Ashley.”
Carl leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Do you know who she is?”
Ashley’s throat tightened. “Yes. Rebecca Jane. She works at Kingston’s hospital.”
Recognition flickered in Carl’s eyes. “I’ve heard of her. Brilliant, ambitious. Single.”
Ashley flinched at the word, though he hadn’t meant it as a knife. “I confronted him, lightly. He admitted they dated once, years ago, but brushed it off. Said it meant nothing.”
