57. Chapter 57
A ria
The next morning, Aria woke to an empty bed. Crispin's side was slept in but long cold.
Crispin had told her the night before he'd be holed up with Dorian at the old apartment, prepping for the board meeting. The vote was going to be tight. Everything was uncertain.
He hadn't sounded hopeful.
The house felt too quiet without him. And as much as she hated to admit it, she missed her early morning cuddle that she pretended to tolerate.
She padded downstairs, made herself tea, ignored the cream envelope that had been sitting on the mantel since Dorian handed it to her.
She avoided it all day.
Until late afternoon, when the golden light of autumn began bleeding across the floorboards, and her feet led her back to the mantle, as if they had a will of their own.
She sat at the kitchen table, hands trembling slightly, and opened the envelope. Rosa moved around her as she cooked dinner. She was going to stay until Crispin got back .
The letter was written on thick pink stationery with Ophelia's monogram in gold.
It smelled faintly of roses...of Ophelia.
My dearest Aria,
When you first came into my life, I wasn't sure what to make of you. You were quiet and guarded. I saw the wall, of course, but I also saw glimpses of the woman behind it. And it didn't take me long to love her.
I enjoyed your cooking. Your presence in the house gave me so much joy.
Your quiet little one-liners when you thought I wasn’t listening.
And your reading...oh, your reading! I suspect, though you never said it, that letters and words dance strangely for you.
You have your own way of learning, and I want you to know, I've always admired how you worked around it.
I must apologise for the lies. For bringing you to that dinner unprepared. My only goal was to show Crispin and his parents what they were blind to. But it didn't work out the way I had hoped, and I regret not warning you. I regret it more than I can say.
I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for being a coward.
By the time you read this, I may be gone. I have pneumonia, and I can feel this is one of the worst ones I have had. Strangely, it doesn't scare me so much as make me realise how short time is .
I have two final gifts for you.
The first is my opal set. It's brought me luck all my life. I hope it brings you the same.
The second...is more significant.
I own four percent of Du Valares shares. They are now yours.
I may not be around when Simon tries one of his nasty tricks again. But now you'll have a voice in the room.
Use it.
I believe Crispin loves you, just as I believe you love him. And I believe you are good for each other, even when you both stumble through your relationship. So, if nothing else, do this selfish thing. Keep him. You've both earned the happiness.
All my love,
Ophelia
Aria sat frozen.
The letter trembled in her hands .
The light faded slowly from the kitchen windows. Outside, the late October breeze whispered across the garden, scattering gold and russet across the stone path like offerings.
Her heart was hammering with shock and also a sudden, startling clarity.
Ophelia hadn't just left her a token in the form of a beautiful set of opals or words scrawled in regret.
She'd given her power.
Four percent. It may not win the war, but it would help.
A voice, Ophelia had written. A weapon, Aria realised. A stake in the very company that Crispin had worked so hard for.
Her pulse surged. She needed to speak to Crispin right now.
She reached for her phone and realised it wasn't there. She'd left it upstairs.
"Rosa!" she called, clumsily pushing to her feet. "Rosa, can you grab my phone from the nightstand, please?"
The woman appeared quickly, concern on her face, and hurried off. Aria waved her off, muttering that the baby was fine .
She was pacing by the time Rosa returned with the phone. She grabbed it and dialled Crispin.
No answer.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
Panic swelled followed by frustration.
She hesitated, thumb hovering over her contacts list, and then she dialled another number. One Crispin had insisted she save just in case.
Dorian.
He picked up after two rings. His voice was cautious and more than a little surprised.
"Hello?"
"Dorian, it's Aria."
A pause followed by alarm. "Is everything alright? The baby- "
"No...yes. Yes, the baby's fine. And why is Crispin not answering his bloody phone?" she said quickly. "Anyway, it's not that. It's Ophelia."
She didn't realise how breathless she sounded until the words started tumbling out in half-coherent, frantic, details twisted together.
"She...she left me something. Not just the opals, but shares. Shares. Four percent of Du Valares in her will."
There was silence on the other end. Then the sound of a chair scraping, and a faint "Cris-"
"No! Wait!" she cut in. "Just...let me explain."
She steadied herself. Gave him the brief version-what Ophelia had written, what she'd meant, what it now meant.
On the other end of the call, Dorian was sitting directly across from Crispin, who had just come out of the bathroom. His expression had turned thoughtful.
And then, as Aria's voice steadied and the enormity of her words settled between them, a slow, knowing smile curled across Dorian's face.
"The irony," he murmured.
Crispin looked up. "What? "
Dorian just passed him the phone. "It's for you. It's Aria."
And then, more to himself than anyone else, he added, "Ophelia always did know when to play her ace."