Page 114 of How to Blow It with a Billionaire

“I suppose”—He sat down on the edge of the bed, hands folded together, locked into stillness—“this evening stirred up the past a little.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I’d thought I wasn’t angry anymore. Apparently I was wrong. “You fucked off and left me in the middle of a party and I have no idea why. You don’t get to tell me what matters.”

“Arden—”

“And you don’t get to Arden me either. Something was really wrong tonight and Nathaniel knew what was going on and I didn’t.”

“How many times must I tell you?” He didn’t quite roll his eyes but, by God, he came perilously close. “This isn’t about Nathaniel.”

“I know,” I…well…I kind of yelled. “It’s about you. The only reason he could help you when I couldn’t is because he understands things about you that I don’t. And that’s only because you won’t let me. Which is your choice. Yours. You chose to make me worthless to you.”

He drew in a sharp breath.

And I steamed right on. “This has nothing to do with accepting you. It’s about accepting a lesser place in your life. And I’m not going to do that, Caspian. Because I love you and I’ve held nothing back from you and I deserve the same in return.”

We stared at each other, both a little shocked. I felt like a cartoon character who’d run off a cliff, legs pummeling empty air, only beginning to fall when I noticed there was nothing beneath me.

Caspian was frowning, eyes glacier pale, and just as bleak. “You don’t know what you’re asking for. There are some truths that change too much.”

“For the record, my patience for ominous pronouncements is at an all-time low. What truths? What do you mean?”

“Well. Reverse it. Think of the thing you’re most ashamed of. And imagine telling it to me. The man you claim to love.”

I did it. I thought about it. And he was right: it was awful. This searing combination of unfading remorse and utter, ugly nakedness.

“Fine.” I swallowed. Blinked back tears. “When I was, like, thirteen or something I tried to get in contact with my dad. He’s…not a good person, and he’s obsessed with Mum, so if he’d found us, it would have been really, really dangerous for her.”

Caspian looked genuinely flustered. “I didn’t mean for—you didn’t have to…”

“And”—a weird little giggle clawed its way out of my throat—“he’s one of those borderline personality types so probably he doesn’t give a fuck about me anyway.”

A hideous silence.

I did some jazz hands. “So. There you go. Now you know just how stupid and selfish I can be.”

“Don’t say that.” He pulled me into his arms and I went gladly enough, letting him enfold me. “You were a child. You wanted to be loved by the people who were supposed to love you.”

“Don’t make excuses for me.”

His breath was warm against my cheek. “I’m not. But you don’t deserve condemnation either.”

“I fucking hate myself for it.”

“You shouldn’t.” He turned his head and kissed the side of my brow. “There is nothing in you worthy of hate, my Arden. And I’m so sorry I made you tell me that.”

I glanced up. “I’m not. I mean, it wasn’t fun. But I trust you. With the worst of me, as well as the best, and all the squishy ambiguous bits in between.”

“Thank you,” he said, unexpectedly grave. “I hope to always honor that trust.”

“As I will for you.”

He didn’t respond.

“So, y’know”—I nudged him gently—“your turn.”