Page 153 of What Goes Around

“Ashley,” I said.

She stopped, but she didn’t turn toward me. Her gaze stayed fixed somewhere past the front doors, like she was already gone.

I rushed on, afraid that if I didn’t say it all at once, she’d walk away.

“I don’t know what happened that night,” I said quickly. “I don’t remember any of it. I swear. I had one drink. Just one.”

I shook my head, words tumbling out unevenly. “I’m so sorry. I would never choose her. I would never hurt you.”

Still nothing.

“I know how this looks. I know how bad it is. But please, Ash, you have to believe me. Something isn’t right.”

I became painfully aware of the people around us in the lobby, of eyes flicking in our direction, of whispers already forming.

“Are you really going to ignore me?” I asked, my voice cracking despite my effort to keep it steady. “Just… say something. Please.”

She finally turned her head slightly. Not enough to face me. Just enough to acknowledge that I existed.

Her expression was closed. Calm in a way that scared me more than anger ever could. The fragile warmth she had begun to show me recently froze over, replaced by the same wall of distance she’d worn since my first year in college.

“I believe that you don’t remember,” she said calmly.

Relief hit me so fast it almost made me dizzy.

But she didn’t stop there.

“That doesn’t change what happened,” she continued. “I can’t be part of this drama.”

“I didn’t choose this,” I said quietly.

“Neither did I.”

The silence that followed was brutal.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for anymore, but I’m sorry.”

She watched me for a long moment, then nodded once.

“Go home, Nick,” she said at last. “I hope you get answers. I hope you heal.”

Then she picked up her suitcase again.

She walked out of the lobby without looking back.

I stood there, watching the doors close behind her, the weight of it settling fully in my chest.

If I were a good man, I would let her go. I would allow her to find happiness somewhere far from me.

But I wasn’t a good man.

And I was not letting Ashley go.

Not now. Not ever.

Chapter 49: History Repeats

I applied to Hawthorne & Vale for a Development Analyst position. It was a private real estate investment and development firm headquartered in Boston.