Page 73 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
Two little girls, maybe nine and four, walked behind their parents. Both wore bright headscarves, swinging their clasped hands like metronomes. The older one looked back now and then to make sure her sister was keeping up. There was a familiar protective air in her steps.
That had been her once, and Lule. Tiny hands and too-big shoes. Her sister always looking at the world with wonder, Aria always looking at Lule. Protecting. Providing. Surviving.
The train was announced with a mechanical chime. A low whistle sounded, and she turned just as it slid onto the platform, metal gliding over rail with clean, modern grace.
She moved forward with the others, airbag in hand, when something made her turn.
And then she saw him at the far end of the platform. Leaning against a pillar. Watching.
Crispin.
He wore a long charcoal wool coat, collar turned up against the wind. A flat cap sat low on his forehead, his unruly curls escaping defiantly from beneath it. He made no move to approach, didn't wave or call her name. He just stood there.
Their eyes met and locked, but neither of them moved.
Hesitantly, she waved, and when he did not move, she boarded.
She could still see him through the thick glass, could feel his stare like it was pressing through the window, searching for her. He didn't look away even as the train began to crawl forward.
She lifted a hand, but he didn't return it.
He didn't stop looking with that solemn, intense air until the train curved away.
Inside, Aria sat by the window and pulled out her phone.
The last message from him waited there, sent in the quiet hours of morning, before the sun had risen, when feelings were raw and men like him forgot how to guard their hearts.
I want to take you bare. I've wanted that since the first moment I saw you. It is a hunger that rages. I'm sorry if this is too much. I just needed you to know how deep this goes. How far I've fallen. And how I'm still falling. You rule my every moment.
Her face flushed hot, and she read it again. Then a third time. Her breath caught in her chest, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
It was too much and not enough.
She pressed the screen to her chest as the train pulled her farther from London, from the flat, from everything familiar.
Farther from him.
Chapter 39
Aria
Aria stared out the window at the blurred landscape of vibrant summer when the trees were awash with patches of blooming colours. The motionlessness made her drowsy, as did the warm hum of the carriage and the ache in her lower back. The nausea was beginning to subside, and she was able to eat something besides saltines. She'd hardly slept the night before. Her phone buzzed quietly in her lap with a new message.
It was sent just after the train had pulled away from the station.
Crispin:Six days
That was all.
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. She let herself hold the smile, just for a second. Then she reached into her purse and closed her fingers around something solid and familiar. The white porcelain hair clip was cool to the touch. The tiny floral inlays felt like a talisman.
The train had barely made it past the second stop before it slowed again, lurching with a groan and coming to a full, reluctant halt. An announcement followed-signal fault, delays expected.
She slid the clip back into the velvet pouch and set an alarm on her phone, just in case she drifted too deeply and missed the station.
Then she leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes.
***
