Killer Affair | Spencer Reid Short Story

Criminal

Gwen

It's like a ticking time bomb. I feel it winding down, growing louder with every second that passes. I know he's slipping away from me. I can see it in the way he holds himself back now, his body tense, like he's bracing for impact. It hurts to see him like this, to know that I'm the one who's breaking him down piece by piece. I'm killing him, metaphorically. And I hate myself for it. I can't lose him. I can't bear the thought of being without him. He's my only constant, my only hope, and I'm watching him slip through my fingers, helpless to stop it.

Spencer stands near the window, staring out into the night, his back to me. The glow of the city lights paints shadows across his face, and his shoulders slump, weighed down by a burden I know I put there. His silence is deafening, and I know he's gathering his thoughts, rehearsing the words he's going to say.

I can only come back covered in blood a few times before he can't take anymore. And really can't take it anymore. And it's all my fault.

"Gwen," he begins softly, his voice trembling. He turns to face me, and there's pain in his eyes—a sadness so deep it makes my heart ache. "We can't keep going like this."

The words hit me like a punch to the chest, stealing the air from my lungs. I take a shaky step toward him, my hands reaching out, desperate to close the distance between us. "No, Spencer, please. Don't say that. We can work this out. I know I can do better. Just... please don't leave me."

He takes a deep breath, his gaze falling to the floor. "Gwen... I don't think you understand. I still love you. I don't want to leave you. But I'm... I'm losing myself. I'm drowning here, and I don't know how to save you without losing everything that I am."

"Then don't," I whisper, my voice cracking. "Don't let me go, please. I need you."

His hand trembles as he reaches out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, tender and hesitant. There's so much warmth in his touch, so much love that it nearly breaks me. I lean into his hand, closing my eyes, savoring the contact as if it's the last time. And maybe it is.

"You don't understand how much this hurts," he says, his voice choked. "Loving you is... it's tearing me apart. Every day, I feel myself slipping, questioning everything I thought I knew. You mean the world to me, Gwen, but I don't know if I can survive this."

I clutch his hand, pressing it against my cheek, desperate to keep him anchored to me. "I can change, Spencer. I know I've made mistakes, but I can be better. I swear I can. Just... don't go. Please don't leave me."

He closes his eyes, as if the sight of me is too painful to bear. "You've been saying that for months, Gwen. Every time I forgive you, and every time, you tear me down a little more. I keep hoping that something will change, that you'll... that we'll finally be okay. But it's killing me. I'm exhausted. I can't keep holding on like this."

The words tear through me, raw and merciless. I feel my heart splintering, breaking under the weight of his confession. "You don't mean that," I say, barely above a whisper. "You love me. You wouldn't leave me if you loved me."

"I do love you," he replies, his voice thick with grief. "And that's why I have to go. If I stay, I'll lose myself. I'll lose everything that makes me who I am. And you don't want that. You don't want to be with someone who's hollow, who's broken."

I shake my head frantically, tears streaming down my face. "No, no, Spencer, please. I can't... I can't do this without you. You're all I have. Don't make me go through this alone."

He steps back, his gaze filled with sorrow as he lets my hand fall from his grasp. "Gwen, you need help... help that I can't give you. There's so much darkness in you, and I don't know how to pull you out of it. I don't even know if you *want* to be pulled out of it."