“This was not revenge,” he said finally. “This was self destruction.”
My scream died in my throat. The fight drained out of me all at once, leaving nothing behind but exhaustion.
“I just wanted something of hers gone,” I whispered. “Something he loved.”
My knees gave out, and I sank onto the couch, pressing my palms to my face. My chest tightened, my breaths uneven.
“I did not plan it,” I choked. “I just saw her earlier today. Standing there like she won. Like my mother never existed.”
My voice cracked.
“And I could not breathe.”
The room went silent. Ashton did not yell. He did not move.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “You are not okay, Bailey.”
I laughed weakly through tears. “No. I am really not.”
For the first time that night, I did not feel angry.
I felt broken.
Chapter 14
Morning light slipped through the cottage window and fell across my face. I stirred, warmth seeping into my skin, birdsong drifting in from outside. For a moment, the quiet almost felt undeserved after the chaos of the night before.
Then memory returned in fragments. Ashton’s arms around me when my legs gave out. His voice low and urgent. The weight of exhaustion pulling me under.
Panic jolted me upright. I scanned the room.
I was alone.
The realization should have been a relief. Instead, disappointment settled in my chest, sharp and unwelcome.
What was wrong with me?
I hated him. He was engaged. About to be married. The fact that I had hoped, even briefly, that he stayed made my stomach turn.
I forced myself to move. I showered, changed, and pulled on my running shoes. I needed motion. Distance. Air. Anything to outrun the noise in my head.
By the time I returned, breathless and damp with sweat, unease crept in again. That familiar tightening in my gut.
She was standing outside my cottage.
Lynda.
She was looking down at her phone, composed as ever, waiting. I slowed my steps, watching her without anger this time. Just clarity.
We had once been inseparable. I remembered the shy girl in the corner at ten years old. I remembered pulling her into my life, into my home, into my family. I remembered when everything broke.
She looked up as I approached, surprise flickering across her face before she masked it.
Unfinished business hung between us.
***************************
I set a cup of coffee in front of her. She sat straight backed, elegant, controlled. Her hand trembled when she lifted the cup.
