Page 66 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
"Sweetheart?" he tried again.
She couldn't speak.
"Say something," he whispered, like a man on the verge of breaking. "I've been lost without you, baby."
It took her a moment. She closed her eyes and swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Cris..."
The sound that came through was a soft, wrecked sigh. Then silence followed by stuttered breath, a muffled sniff.
"I want to see you," he said, sounding hoarse. "Can I come over? Please."
That please had been dragged up from somewhere deep and frayed inside him.
Aria gripped the phone tighter. "Cris, I need to say something."
"Okay."
"I'm going to Oxford for a bit. To Lule's. I know you've got a lot going on."
She paused before asking the question that was dragged from her, even though she promised herself she would keep her distance. "Are you alright?"
"Not really," he murmured. "But...I will be."
She bit her lip. "Don't call, okay? I don't think I can take it right now. But I'll try to reply to your messages."
"Alright," he said softly.
She took a breath, steadying herself for what was to come. "Now I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to not interrupt, no matter what. Just listen."
Another pause. "I'm listening."
"We're very different people, Crispin. I didn't realise how different until I saw the divide that night."
Silence.
"Cris, you need to think very carefully about what you want before you make any hasty decisions. I'm not stupid; I know things are hard. You need to take care of yourself, just like I'm going to take care of myself."
She inhaled. "If you decide you don't want to give us a real chance, I need you to do one thing for me. I need you to call me before you commit to someone else, before it becomes real with someone else. Break up with me properly before you fall in too deep. I won't make a fuss. Can you do that for me?"
Still no answer.
"Hello?" she said, suddenly unsure if he was still there.
Then came a sound-a short, disbelieving laugh.
"You don't understand, do you?" Crispin said. His voice sounded like he had been dragged over hot coals. "How can I blame you? I've given you no reason to think otherwise. What do the kids call it now? A situationship? That's what you must think we had."
He exhaled sharply. "You don't understand that you're my first thought when I wake up. That you're the one I think of when I take a breather between meetings. That I'm reading briefs, but my mind's already off with you somewhere-laughing, curled up on that ancient couch of yours, watching Netflix."
He sounded like he was pacing, like the words were clawing their way out of him.
"You're the last thing in my head before I fall asleep. And then I dream of the line of your neck, the smooth skin of your back. I dream of kissing the calluses on your hands, those same hands that brought up a remarkable woman like Lule. Of running my fingers through your hair while you're pretending you're not falling asleep after a rough day at work."
His voice deepened with emotion. "I wake up, and I swear to God I can still smell the skin between your breasts. I'm lost in you. You're my drug, Aria. And I can't-" He broke off for a moment. "I am hopelessly in love with you. I won't recover from you. Do you think anyone else could compare?"
Her hand trembled.
"Have faith in me, Aria," he said, fiercely gentle. "I'm trying to be a better man, not the entitled arsehole who looked at you five years ago and couldn't look away."
