That's How it Happens

35. The Breaking Point

Ainsley pressed her hand over her mouth, cutting off the sob clawing its way up her throat. Don't cry. Don't give him that.

A twig snapped under her foot.

"Annie?" Liv's voice floated behind her.

She heard Leo curse. "Shit... Ains!"

She kept walking, faster now.

"Ains. Look at me. Ainsley. Stop!"

His voice cut through the night, and she froze in place at her full name. She turned slowly, arms crossed against her chest like armor.

Leo's face was tense, his voice low but urgent. "It's not what it looks like."

A laugh tore out of her, sharp and humorless. "Oh, that's original. I've heard that one before."

He flinched. "Ains-"

"What's next? She just happened to fall into your arms? Please, enlighten me."

His jaw clenched. "You don't understand-"

"No," she cut in. "You don't understand. If you knew –" voice rising before she forced it back down to a hiss. Why would she tell him about her past with Peter now? "I understand perfectly. Liv shows up, bats her lashes, and you –" she gestured toward the guest house, toward the shirt still hanging on Liv's frame. Her skin crawled. That shirt was his – warm, soft, smelling faintly of cedar and soap. Now it was draped over Liv like a claim, and the image seared itself into her brain. "You let her in. Literally."

"Enough. You have no idea what you're talking about."

She narrowed her eyes. God, he looks furious. And hurt. And I hate that I still love him even as I want to scream.

Ainsley shook her head, choking off the sob crawling at her throat. "Don't. Don't you dare stand there and feed me cliches. I'm not stupid."

Meanwhile, Liv hovered awkwardly, eyes bouncing between them, clearly wondering if she could slip away unnoticed.

"No, you aren't," Leo snapped, his voice cracking with frustration. "But you're being reckless. Typical Ainsley. I did nothing wrong – she came on to me!"

Her laugh cracked this time, brittle and breaking. "I saw it. I saw you both."

His jaw tightened. "Okay, you think whatever you want, but where were you?"

Her stomach dropped. Not this. Not now. "That's irrelevant."

"Don't play me, Ainsley." Every time he said her name, it made her wince. He rarely used it. Ains, yes, but never Ainsley. "You slipped out of the club, and then Peter disappeared right after you. Go ahead, deny it."

Her pulse hammered. She lifted her chin. "It's not... it's not what you think," she parroted the words back, the words tasting like ash.

"Oh yeah?" His voice rose, a whisper-shout, raw with anger. "Did you kiss him?"

The question sliced through her. Her eyes widened before she could stop herself. That half-second of silence gave her away.

Leo's chest heaved. Goddamn it. She did. She kissed him. Right after she had kissed me.

Her throat closed. She wanted to scream no, to erase the truth, but her silence betrayed her. She hated herself for it – hated that she'd given Leo the weapon to destroy her.

Ainsley's throat burned. Why didn't I just say no? Why can't I ever stop protecting people from the truth, even when it destroys me?

She forced the words out, brittle. "That doesn't matter. Not compared to what I just saw."