Free What Might Have Been by Kira Sinclair

now.
    Instead, she stood beside him, staring into the same quiet abyss as he.
    Finally, after a few moments, he turned to her. While his face was blank and smooth, his eyes were a storm of turmoil. A storm she felt inside her chest, threatening to rip her apart.
    It was the torture in his eyes that made her speak, made her say things to him that she’d sworn she never would.
    She quietly asked, “What do you want to know?”
    â€œDid you love him?” The words burst from him in a rush, filling the air between them.
    Ainsley closed her eyes and sighed. There was no easy way to balance self-preservation against soothing his wounds. Weeks ago she never would have expected to feel the need to reassure him. To tell him that she hadn’t immediately turned to his brother—the person he’d been closest to in the world—for solace when he’d gone.
    But now she realized she couldn’t let him remain this conflicted, this angry, with his brother.
    â€œNot in the way you mean. He didn’t replace you. He couldn’t.”
    He glanced over his shoulder at her, a question clearly there, yet one he left unspoken.
    Walking over to the rusted pipe that framed the outeredges of the small country bridge, Ainsley leaned her elbows on top of it and searched for the right words.
    â€œI cared about him. I never would have married him if I hadn’t, no matter what….” She trailed off, half-afraid that he might pick up on the subtext swimming between what she’d actually said and what she’d left unspoken.
    But apparently he didn’t notice.
    â€œHe loved you.”
    It wasn’t a question but a clear statement of fact. Some thing that he’d obviously known for years and years.
    She answered anyway. “Yes.”
    â€œHe told me. When I called. I guess a couple months after the wedding. A week or so before he died.”
    She nodded even though she knew he probably hadn’t seen.
    There was plenty of space between them. Dry, dusty dirt, the elegant lines of his empty sports car. But the physical space couldn’t compare to the gulf of mistrust, misunderstanding and anger.
    It didn’t matter that they were talking; neither of them looked into the other’s face, the other’s eyes. Ainsley was afraid of what she’d see reflected back. As well as what she might inadvertently reveal. Luke had always been so good at reading her.
    She wondered why Luke chose to turn away from her.
    â€œHe was angry. At me. He wouldn’t tell me why, though. But I knew it had something to do with you. He told me to stay out of your life. That I’d made my choiceand we’d all have to live with it. I didn’t understand what he meant, then. I still don’t.”
    But she did. Although it really didn’t make much sense. Why would Logan warn Luke away one day and then try to convince her to talk to Luke?
    Maybe his conscience had gotten to him. Not that he’d ever had anything to be ashamed of.
    â€œI never knew it, but Logan loved me from the very start. He just never said anything while we were together.”
    Blinded by her own obsession with Luke, she’d been completely oblivious to Logan’s feelings.
    And then Luke had left. And she’d been in trouble. And Logan had offered her the one thing he’d wanted desperately and she’d needed so badly. Marriage.
    â€œLook, Logan was happy if that’s what you’re worried about. I didn’t take advantage of him.”
    That did get his attention. He took a single step toward her, but more than that he finally turned to face her, full on and looked into her eyes.
    â€œI never thought you had.”
    She supposed that was something.
    â€œI might not have loved him, with the kind of all-consuming passion that you and I had, but I cared for him. A great deal. I would have done anything. If I could have, I’d have switched places with him in a heartbeat. You have