Page 97 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

He took the cup back, seemed to be considering trying it himself, but then just put it down on the table again.

“Look,” I said. “Can you tell me what you’re doing? I…kind of need to know what’s going on. Do I need to call my mum? What if he—”

“There’s nothing he can do that is not within my power to preempt. In the worst-case scenario, he’s already on his way to Kinlochbervie, but he will have missed his opportunity to fly, so he will either need to drive overnight, catch the sleeper, or wait for the morning flight. I, on the hand, have a private jet, which has already departed. There will be people discreetly watching your family’s home within two hours.”

I made a wavery distressed noise I couldn’t quite keep in.

“I know you won’t thank me for pointing out that worrying will sap your spirit to no purpose.”

“Except for the bit where you pointed it out anyway.”

His lips twitched, but his expression quickly grew serious again “Sometimes it does us good to hear things even if we can’t acknowledge or believe them.”

“I…” Drawing my knees up to my chest, I curled my arms miserably around them. “I’m just having a hard time thinking about anything that isn’t what a shitty person I am. Which, now that I say it aloud, is still all about me. Oh my God. Am I a sociopath? Am I a sociopath like he is?”

“Arden,” said Caspian, very gently. “Of course you’re not.”

I turned my head to look at him. “H-how can you be so sure?”

“Sociopaths don’t care whether they’re sociopaths.”

“That seems too easy.”

“I’ve seen very many very clever people waste fortunes by failing to recognise when the easy answer was also the correct answer.” His eyes held mine, nothing but the softest blues tonight and silver spirals as bright as tinsel. “Arden, you need to forgive yourself for this.”

For once, I was the first to look away—hiding my face against my thighs. “No I don’t. I really don’t.”

“It’s the nature of such people to make us doubt ourselves. To make us bear the responsibility for their cruelty. How you feel now is just another of his manipulations.”

“You don’t understand,” I cried. “He said all this stuff about how he didn’t want to let Mum go and I couldn’t help thinking about how I didn’t want to let you go, and all this other stuff about how hard it was living with someone else’s decisions when they hurt you. And I know he’s bad and he was bad to Mum, but when he was talking, it felt like it was the same. And maybe it felt the same because it is the same and I’m—”

“Stop.” He caught my hands, which were plucking restlessly at my jeans. “Please stop. He was clearly leading you to draw those comparisons so that you’d believe his pursuit of your mother was justified.”

I stared at him, trying not to hate myself and failing hard. “And what about my pursuit of you?”

“That is categorically different.”

“How?” I asked, more than slightly pathetically.

“So many ways. Some of which I’m embarrassed to enumerate.” He closed his eyes for a moment and then went on. “Firstly, I’ve repeatedly taken actions that have brought you back in my life. Your mother has done everything she can to keep Jonas out of hers. Secondly, your mother ran away from your father because she was afraid of him. I ran away from you because I was afraid of myself. And finally, you’ve never…you’ve never…”

I nearly saidNever what?but then I noticed how still he’d gone.

“You’ve never tried to diminish me,” he went on softly, “or control me or make me into what you think I should be.”

Getting a handle on my emotions was like sifting through stale vomit in order to figure out what I ate last night. My heart was a big ugly splash, all half-chewed bits of shame and guilt and fear. Though worst of all was the hurt. Oh, what the fuck was wrong me? That I could know exactly what sort of person Jonas was, and still be hurt by it. “I…I wish I could believe you but I can’t tell if I just want to let myself off the hook.”

“Please”—Caspian was crouched on the floor again, his hands covering mine—“believe me. You’re the best person I know. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

He still sounded oddly shaken. I glanced down at him, and it was always strange—having Caspian Hart at my feet. I’m sure under any other circumstances I would have been absolutely exultant. “I’m sorry. I’ve dumped a lot of shit on you tonight.”

“I don’t care about that. I would do anything for you.”

“I’m…I’m not who you think I am. This should have shown you that.”

“You’re exactly who I think you are.” His fingers tightened painfully on mine, his voice caught somewhere between fierce and imploring. “Your father can’t change that.”

I gave a shaky not-quite-laugh and uncurled because peering at Caspian over my knees was getting weird. “I don’t know what I did to make you so sure I’m so…whatever you think I am.”

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