Bill exhaled shakily. “I hoped you wouldn’t recognize me,” he admitted. “And I hated myself for that.” He looked at Ashley. “I didn’t hide it because of you. I hid it because I didn’t know how to live with it out loud.”
Ashley sank into a chair, the anger draining from her, replaced by something heavier. This wasn’t rivalry. It had never been. She had mistaken grief for cruelty, silence for judgment. The realization hurt more than the humiliation ever had.