Page 124 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“Any of what you said.”

“I meant it all.” I swallowed, abruptly aware of the enormity of everything I was telling him. “And I know, given what you’ve gone through, how hard it must be for you to believe it. But if you can’t…when you can’t…please, at the very least, believe in who you are to me.”

“Caspian. I…” That was Nathaniel, who was still kneeling a short distance from us, his eyes so dull and his expression so frighteningly blank it was like he’d been replaced by a Madame Tussauds model. “I’m sorry. I’m…more than sorry. I’ve only ever wanted to help you, but I…I haven’t, have I? I don’t know what I’ve done. I always thought I loved you…I think I still do…but I…God. Have I been part of this? Have I done this to you?”

“I tried to be the man you needed.” As Caspian spoke, one of his hands found mine, and held it hard enough to hurt—not that I minded. “I thought it would fix me.”

Nathaniel swallowed. “So did I. But I was wrong. I…I’ve done everything wrong. Made everything worse when you trusted me to make it better. And I don’t know how to make that right. Maybe I’m not supposed to. Maybe I was never supposed to.”

“You never had a chance,” Caspian told him. “I was so afraid that you would think me weak, I convinced us both I was a monster.”

“I shouldn’t have let you. But I wanted too much to be your hero. I know it’s too late for me to tell you this, but you’re a good man and a loving one. I thought I was saving you but all I did was make you doubt yourself. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I.” Caspian moved slightly away from me—and the part of me that was, and had always been, desperate for him wanted to cling. But I also knew it would be wrong right then. “I’ve had a lot to work through these past six months, and I shouldn’t have used you to do that.”

“Perhaps”—Nathaniel’s lips twisted into a hopeless half smile—“we should spare each other the recitation of our failures. We have so many of them between us. You know I love you, and I know—I think I’ve known for a long time—that you shouldn’t be with me. I hope you find your happiness, Caspian, whatever it looks like for you.”

A cool gleam as he pressed his engagement ring into Caspian’s hand. And then Nathaniel rose and slipped from the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Chapter 41

Nathaniel was gone. And in the silence he left behind, I became acutely aware of all the things I’d been semi-ignoring: the redness of the room, the kinky shit hanging from the walls, the fact Caspian was shirtless in my arms, the mess of his wrists, and the hot throbbing in my shoulder.

“I, um”—I cleared my throat—“I don’t really know what to do now. But I stand by all that stuff I said earlier.”

Caspian stirred, tilting his head back so he could look at me, the corners of his mouth curling upwards slightly. “What stuff in particular? You said quite a lot of, ah, stuff.”

“About, y’know, choices. And how you don’t have to make them right now. I mean, I guess Nathaniel’s already made one for you. But you shouldn’t be with me just because he’s gone. You need to do what’s right for you.”

He drew in a harsh breath. And then, with the defiance of someone throwing themselves off the highest diving board, half expecting to belly flop, “I want to be with you. On this point at least, Nathaniel’s correct, it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

God. I was perilously close to having my very own fairy-tale moment, but I still didn’t know if I was Cinderella at the ball, about to unravel into rags, or my prince had finally got his act together. “And you have no idea how much I’ve needed to hear you say that.”

“You may have noticed I have a tendency to second-guess my desires. I’ve been afraid of them for so long that I find it almost impossible to accept that what I want might be what I should have.”

“And,” I asked, caught somewhere between excitement and anxiety, “you think you should have me?”

A sound, too raw and self-conscious to really be a laugh. “In all honesty, no. Every piece of my soul is telling me that I am a poor prospect, a wreck of a human being, who does not deserve you and will likely only cause you harm. But”—and here some glimmer of a Caspian from happier times struggled to the surface—“despite the lack of a PowerPoint, you have presented a very strong case that I should, instead, listen to you. And believe you when you tell me that none of this really matters.”

“So whatdoesmatter?”

“That I’m desperately in love with you. And that, against all reason, you appear to…”

I stared at him, wide-eyed and absurdly, frantically, heart-soaringly hopeful. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.”

“You appear to…” He stumbled, a hand coming up to half conceal his mouth. “Arden, I’m not sure I can.”

No way was I letting this go. “I…”

“…you…you…love me too?”

“There.” I beamed, feeling like my whole face had turned as shiny as a lightbulb. “Was that so difficult?”

He shuddered. “It was excruciating.”

“Then maybe you should tell me every day.”

“I think, perhaps”—pink blossomed across his cheeks—“I would rather hear it from you.”

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