Page 135 of Phishing for Love
“Just tell me,” I say evenly.
He turns his empty glass round and round in his hands and I can see his throat working. It’s clearly killing him to utter the words he feels he needs to say. And I know, with a kind of sick, awful certainty, it’s going to kill me to hear them.
His voice, when it comes out, is low and ragged. “I can’t do this anymore.”
The words drop heavily into the space between us.
I can barely breathe for the pain fanning out in my chest.
For days now, I’ve known these words were coming.
I have to take a moment to let the tightness in my chest ease before I can speak. “What do you mean?”
I know precisely what he means. But I want to force him to say it.
He sets his glass on the table and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring at the carpet, as though he needs a moment. Then he lifts his eyes to meet mine. He looks so defeated. I ache with frustration because the only person who’s defeating Aaron is himself. The tragic irony of that almost breaks me.
“We should stop seeing each other,” he says simply.
A whimper escapes my throat. I hate myself for what the sound reveals.
“At least you’re considerate enough to break up with me on a Friday,” I say, my tone brittle. “That at least gives me the weekend to get over you so I can be back at work on Monday. Calvin will appreciate that.”
There’s a grim set to his mouth. “Stop it, Tess.”
“Oh, apologies. Am I being too analytical? Am I not going gently into that good night?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
Slowly and heavily, he pushes himself to his feet.
I stand too and we face one another. Then I shove at his chest. Hard. He braces himself to absorb the impact. “How dare you come into my world and be so unexpectedly kind and funny and amazing that I can’t help but fall in love with you! Why didn’t you stay away from me if you knew you were going to leave?”
“I tried.”
“You should have tried harder!”
Anger engulfs my pain. I pummel his chest with my fists, and he lets me, making no move to defend himself. “I was doing fine until you came along!”
“You’re right,” he admits, his skin pale beneath his tan, his eyes ravaged. “I should have been stronger. I should never have kissed you. Never have started anything with you. And I should have been stronger to end this sooner.”
“Why am I not worth the risk?” I ask, my eyes blurry with tears. There’s chaos in my chest when I glimpse the weariness in his eyes. I want him to fight for us. To fight for our chance at happiness.
“If anyone is worth the risk, you are,” he tells me, his voice hoarse. “But I can’t.”
“You can’t? Or you won’t?” I demand, throwing it at him like a slap to the face. A challenge.
I watch him battle for an impassive face. “Both.”
I know he loves me. I can see it so clearly in the agony on his face. In his anguished tone.
“Take a chance on us,” I plead with him. “Love me. Let me love you. I’m willing to risk my life if you’re willing to risk your heart.”
But he’s already shaking his head. “When I got that knock on the door and they told me Kayla was dead, it was one of theworst nights of my life. I survived that loss, but Tess, if I lose you, if you’re taken from me like everyone else, like my sister, my parents, my fiancée...that would cut me off at the knees.”
“Aaron—”
“You think it wouldn’t ruin my life if something happened to you?” he continues roughly. “That I’d survive the guilt of knowing you died because I was selfish and wanted you with me? That me loving you caused your death?”
