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She tiptoed down the hall, careful not to make too much noise. Gentle snoring drifted from behind the closed door of Santiago’s room. At least one of them had gotten sleep last night.
The air was refreshingly cool as she stepped onto the porch. She stretched a bit, using the stairs for leverage. Then she set off at a brisk walk under the blue-gray sky.
When she reached the trailhead she started to run, taking off down the dirt path that led into the trees. It was darker in the woods, the large branches overhead blocking the tendrils of sunlight that had begun to peer over the eastern horizon. A few enterprising birds were getting an early start to the day, but aside from their tentative songs, it was quiet.
The path was soft underfoot, absorbing the sounds of her steps. She focused on the rhythm of her breathing and let her mind wander.
The kiss last night had been a mistake. Her brain knew it, even as her body denied the truth. This retreat was turning out to be more difficult than she’d expected. Not just because of the Woodses and their con, though she did feel terrible for innocent people like Jenny. No, it was Santiago’s presence that she found troubling.
He hadn’t done anything objectionable—he was an honorable man, and she trusted him. But being around him every day, sharing the cabin together, the couple’s sessions...she was having a hard time resisting the pull of their familiar groove. Without realizing it, she’d fallen into a shared closeness with him, like putting on a favorite pair of jeans. He fit in her life, just as he had before.
And the worst part? Ainsley had thought she’d moved on after their breakup. In many ways, she had. But being around Santiago made it clear there were things still missing from her life. Something as simple as having someone to talk to in the evenings. In a matter of days, Santiago’s presence had expanded to fill the cracks in her life, making her aware of the missing pieces for the first time.
She jumped over a fallen tree, the obstacle slowing her down for a few steps. Her heart pounded in her ears as she picked up the pace again, and her thoughts turned back to Santiago.
Why wasn’t she angry with him? He’d left her five years ago, using the age-old excuse of “it’s not you, it’s me.” No one would blame her for still being upset—with just a few words, Santiago had crushed her dreams for their future and caused her to question their past. But when Ainsley searched her heart, she found no resentment toward him.
Maybe it was because enough time had passed that the wounds to her heart had healed. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t hesitated to help when she’d called.
Or maybe, just maybe, it was because he was still single.
The last possibility was the most dangerous. Why should she care if he was with someone else? She had no claim on him. But the truth of the matter was that she did care.
A lot.
Even though Santiago had assured her he was leaving for the sake of his career, a part of Ainsley had wondered if he was really dumping her because of her infertility. She’d sat with that thought for the past five years, imagining him finding a woman, marrying her and having a houseful of cute babies.
Except, he hadn’t done that. And the fact that he was still single and without children forced her to reevaluate things. It seemed he had told her the truth—it wasn’t her after all.
Ainsley made the last turn and slowed to a walk, wanting to cool down a bit before returning to the cabin. The more she thought about the situation, the more she wondered about Santiago’s reasons for leaving. He’d built a successful career, yes. But had he really expected her to hold him back? Or was there something more that had caused him to leave?
Leaved crunched under her feet as snippets of last night’s conversation floated through her mind...
I haven’t exactly had the best role models.
She’d known his childhood had been tumultuous. He’d talked about it in bits and pieces while they’d been dating, but he’d never gone into much detail. Just enough for her to know his parents should never have stayed married.
Was that the problem? Did he think he was doomed to repeat his parents’ mistakes?
It made a certain kind of sense. Growing up with miserable parents had to have affected him and shaped his ideas about what a marriage looked like. But she’d foolishly thought that their own relationship had been proof enough that not every couple was doomed to fail.
Now she realized she’d been wrong.
She’d asked him last night if he thought he was worried about turning into his parents. He’d dodged the question, but she could read between the lines. It was clear now that Santiago had left because of his fears, not because of her physical shortcomings.
The realization brought relief, along with a profound sense of peace. She stopped in the middle of the trail and bent at the waist, exhaling heavily as tears sprang to her eyes. For the last five years, she’d doubted the truth of his words, convinced he’d been trying to spare her feelings. Her fears had eaten away at her self-esteem like an acid drip on her soul, triggering a constant, low-level ache that she’d believed was just going to be a part of her life.
But now she saw the truth. And the doubt and heartache brought on by years of second-guessing drained out of her, leaving her feeling both empty and new.
She crouched on her heels and let the tears come, let them wash away the toxic emotions she’d been unknowingly carrying for so long. Ainsley had never been much of a crier, but these tears were cathartic, a fitting end to this chapter of her life.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, watching her tears speckle the dirt beneath her feet. Eventually, she stood and wiped her cheeks. Her nose was stuffy and her eyes felt swollen, but it was nothing a hot shower couldn’t fix.
Dawn had broken during her run, and from this distance, it was easy to see the plywood covering the broken panes of the kitchen window. Ainsley started walking back to the cabin, hoping Santiago was still asleep. If he saw her face, he’d immediately know she’d been crying. At the moment, her emotions were still close to the surface and she wouldn’t be able to deflect his inevitable questions.
She had questions of her own. Like why he’d never told her about his fears before. Why he hadn’t trusted her with that information. Maybe they could talk about it now, since they were no longer a couple. It wouldn’t change the past, but it would help her understand his actions.
The plywood was a blight on the front of the cabin, its unfinished surface a stark contrast to the polished look of the house. Ainsley eyed it as she got closer, expecting to feel a resurgence of the fear she’d experienced last night when the window had been broken. But the emotions never came.
