Crispin's mouth opened again, but no words came. He stood slowly, raking a hand through his hair, stepping away like the ground had given way under him.
She couldn't watch him go.
Instead, she sat perfectly still, listening, as he walked away.
Waiting for the door to close.
But it didn't.
Instead, she heard the click of the kettle.
Then the clink of a teaspoon.
She turned her head.
Crispin stood in her kitchen, opening the tea tin-PG Tips, she noticed absently. It had been on sale last week.
He moved like he had done a hundred times. Quiet. Sure. Water poured, milk warmed, two sugars added.
Then he came over with shadowed eyes and pressed the mug into her hand. Her fingers curled around the warmth before she could even think to resist.
He sat beside her, slow and heavy, his elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. Their thighs touched. The heat of him seeped into her like something she no longer had a right to.
After a long silence, he said, "That would be easier, you know."
She didn't answer.
"Marry Helga. Take over from my father. Say all the right things. Do what's expected."
He turned to her, voice like sandpaper. Her eyes involuntarily flicked towards him.
"When you and I were still dancing around whatever this was," he went on, "I fooled myself into thinking it wouldn't go far. Couldn't go far. That I'd marry someone like Helga. That you...you'd be my secret." His voice shook a little before he controlled it.
"My father has someone-a woman he's loved since school. She never married. She shows up at charity galas sometimes but never stays too long. My mother pretends not to notice."
He gave a hollow laugh. "He calls her 'an old friend,' but who is he fooling? We all know."
He looked up at her now. His navy eyes were full of conflict. "I thought that would be me one day. That I'd end up like him-two lives, split down the middle. The public one for the family and the private one for me. The wife and the one I actually loved."
Aria's face was frozen with pain, but a furious light flickered in her eyes.
"You promised..." she whispered around the lump in her throat.
"I thought I could have the best of both worlds," Crispin said softly. "You, and everything else I was expected to be." He swallowed, voice rough with emotion. "But I was wrong."
"A few days after I first saw you at the office, I went out with someone. An ex. You were like a ghost in my head. I wanted to banish the way you made me feel."
He glanced at Aria, nervous now, like he wasn't sure how much he was allowed to admit.
"It was meant to be a tidy, forgettable night. Good food. Polite laughs. Sex, maybe. Something clean and detached."
A bitter, almost embarrassed smile pulled at his mouth. "She gave me all the right signals. I ended up at her place. She poured wine, put on something low and jazzy. She was already unbuttoning her blouse before I'd even taken off my shoes."
He hesitated. "She started touching me...kissing me. Saying all the right things."
He looked down at his hands, jaw tight. "And then suddenly, I didn't want it. Not her. Not anymore."
He paused, the memory flickering through him like nausea. "I pulled my shirt back on, mumbled something about a forgotten appointment, and left."
