by Alexis Hall
“I’ve always known what you are—you’re kind and funny and sexy and a little bit overprotective.” I gave him a nervy half smile. “But, y’know, I can live with that.”
“Arden, I’m not. I’m…weak and I’m ugly, and I’m”—his voice cracked like black ice—“so ashamed.”
I shook my head, a few of the tears I hadn’t even noticed I was shedding clotting on my lashes. “Those are things you feel—and it’s okay to feel them, even if it’s hard—but they don’t define you and they’re not what I see when I look at you.”
“Most of the time,” he admitted raggedly, “I don’t think I can be anything else.”
“You’ve been something else to me.”
“That was because of you. You gave me hope for myself in ways I never thought possible.”
“I’m not magic. I was just there. The person you were when we were together was someone you chose to be. Someone you always have been. Someone I fell in love with.”
“But”—his eyes were locked on mine, pleading, even as his mouth offered nothing but resistance—“I kept the worst of myself from you.”
“What happened to you isn’t the worst of you.” Impulsively I reached for his hand and he let me take it, his fingers folding tightly around mine. “I could spend a lot of time talking about your bad qualities, like how arrogant you are, and how controlling and high-handed you can be, but none of that has anything to do with being an abuse survivor. And yes, I’d have understood you better, and probably been a better boyfriend, if you’d told me earlier, but you always get to decide how and when your story gets told.”
He twisted away from me, though not before I’d seen the anguish on his face. “It’s a story that broke me long ago.”
“It hasn’t broken you. It’s just hurt you and made you feel weak. But that doesn’t mean hurt is all you’ll ever be and it doesn’t mean you can never be strong.”
A pause. So deep and airless I could barely breathe. Then Caspian threw up an arm to shield his face and began, almost silently, to weep. “Don’t,” he gasped, “don’t look at me.”
“Oh, Caspian,” said Nathaniel, in this small, lost voice. “Caspian.”
I thought about telling him to shut up again, but I didn’t have the heart. This wasn’t actually his fault, and he was as damaged by it as any of us. I inched a teeny bit closer to Caspian—hoping he’d feel me there, ready for him when he was ready for me. “Look…we’ll do whatever you need. It’s okay to cry, and you can trust me on this because I cry all the fucking time. But you don’t have to do it alone.”
Nothing but uncertain breath, and the softest of inarticulate sounds from Caspian.
“Especially,” I added, “when you’re with two people who love you.”
“I never cry.” Something that, from anyone else, might have been a sniff. “I…I don’t know what to do.”
“You let it happen. And you let us comfort you.”
Another sound, this one perilously close to surrender. And then, at last, Caspian Hart came clumsily—warily—into my arms. I enfolded him and drew him close, his sobs muffled in my skin and his body so awkward against mine, as if it had never learned to be held. My eyes, staring at nothing across the haze of red in that godawful room, unexpectedly found Nathaniel. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking so helplessly human that I felt bad for all the times I’d resented him.
I made the smallest of motions, and he slipped gratefully off the bed and joined us on the floor. Resting his brow against Caspian’s shoulder, he began to cry again, and I reached out with my spare hand to bring him in.
“This,” muttered Caspian, sometime later, “is mortifying.”
“It’s okay.” I petted clumsily at his hair. “It’s just, like, emotion water from your eyes. Give yourself that.”
“I hate it.”
He did not, however, seem to be capable right then of stopping. So I offered reassuring nonsense and Nathaniel stroked him gently, and Caspian shuddered in our arms, managing even to cry with more dignity than I ever managed—mostly rough breath and the occasional muffled sound. It was probably a messed-up comparison, but it reminded me, a little bit, of when he came. Which was something else he’d been uncomfortable with me witnessing. And then I got incredibly sad for him, realising that he feared expressing joy and sorrow alike, and had denied himself the solace of both for such a long time.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice steady again. “I don’t know what—I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”
“Nothing at all,” echoed Nathaniel, sitting back on his heels, giving us space with a humility that almost surprised me.
Then I felt the prickle of Caspian’s eyelashes against my skin as he lifted his head. And opened my eyes slowly to find him gazing at me through tear-heavy lashes. “Arden?”
“Yes?”
“Did you”—he hesitated and then pressed on—“did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“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 what does matter?”
“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.”
“Mr. Hart, is this your way of saying you want some sort of sentimental declaration?”
His arms tightened around me with such force I lost my balance completely and we ended up sprawled out together on the plush burgundy carpet. I was mostly on top but I managed to brace myself on my knee and an elbow before I crashed down on top of him. Except then he flipped me, turning me onto my back before I’d so much as caught my breath. The impact awoke a fresh sting from my shoulder, but I went gladly, regardless, the pain lost in the eager heat and the sweetest sense of lassitude spreading through my body in response to the dominance of his. Physical control seemed to come so naturally to him sometimes. I only wished he could learn to be as ease with it as I was. To trust himself as I trusted him.
“I thought I’d never hear that again,” he said.
“Don’t people call you Mr. Hart every day?”
“Not the way you do.”
I fluttered my lashes at him, unable to resist asking, “What way is that?”
“As if…as if you want me to do very bad things to you.”
“Well, I do want you to do very bad things to me.” I gently stroked the flush that was still fading from his cheeks. “But only when you want to do them too.”
He closed his fingers around my wrist, but it was only to pull my hand down to his lips so he could kiss it. “You should probably know, I’m, well, I’m terrified, Arden.”
“Of being together?”
He nodded.
“If it’s any consolation,” I admitted, “I’m not exactly unbricking it either. Obviously, I would never want you to stay with me if you didn’t want to, but I’m not sure my heart could take a second round of being dumped to feed your demons.”
“It’s such an inadequate thing to say, but I’m truly sorry for everything I put you through.”
“And trying to marry Nathaniel to punish yourself for being happy with me was pretty shitty too.”
He winced. “I know.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” I slipped my spare hand behind his neck and drew his face down to mine, so I could kiss the line between his brows. “You don’t need any help with that. I just…I’m scared too. You’re sure about this? About me? About us?”
“Oh, my Arden,” he murmured. “It’s the one certainty I have right now.”
There’d always been something profoundly comforting to me about Caspian’s certainties. And they’d never steered me wrong before. “Really?”
“Yes. But I also don’t want to lie to you. I seem to be quite spectacularly fucked up.”
“Well”—I gave him a mischievous look—“at least you’re still spectacular. And you’re not fucked up, you just have some shit going on.”
He rolled onto his side next to me and tucked his head against my shoulder, like he was playing at being just a little tame. “Tonight…these last months…they’ve clarified and disordered my life in equal measure. I thought I knew myself, but perhaps I never have. Which, in some ways, is almost a relief. I’d rather see myself as you see me, than as Nathaniel did, or Lancaster did, or as I did for so many years.” He paused and I felt the tension creeping through him before he spoke again. “Unfortunately, I suspect it will take me time, probably a long time to get there. And the honourable thing to do would be to let you go while I worked through everything I have to work through.”
“Wait a minute.” I did not like the way this was going. “This sounds like a breaking-up speech, and we haven’t even officially got back together yet.”
“Nothing of the sort. I never said I was going to be honourable. In fact, I was about to announce my intention to be quite otherwise.”
I could breathe again. “Okay. Good.”
“You told me to choose me, and choosing me means choosing you. I will do this with or without you, but”—he captured my hand again, turning the full intensity of his eyes upon me—“I am better and stronger and happier with you at my side.”
I blinked against a veritable tidal wave of tears.
“Oh God. Arden.” Caspian shot into a sitting position. “What did I say? What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing’s wrong. Everything’s…the rightest it’s ever been. Of course I’ll be by your side. For as long as you want me there.”
“I should warn you, that could be a long time.”
Scrambling upright, I hurled myself into Caspian’s lap, flinging my limbs around him with all the dignity of an overly devoted spider monkey. Apart from a startled “oof,” he took it well.
“Then you’ll have me for a long time,” I said. “Me and a really exceptional, queer-friendly, kink-friendly therapist.”
He arched a brow wryly. “You’re bringing other parties into our relationship already?”
“The therapist is nonnegotiable. We can’t do this alone.”
For a moment or two, he offered no response and I started to freak out a little bit. But then he smiled. “As you wish.”
Ack. Help. Melting. And all it took was a smile and a Princess Bride reference. I was midway through a flurry of kisses when I remembered there were still things to be mature and sensible about. Reluctantly I pulled back. Then changed my mind and gave him another kiss. Before finally getting myself together.
“There’s more,” I told him. Which would have sounded a lot more dignified if I hadn’t still been breathless.
He gazed at me steadily, the stern set of his lips still softened by his smile, and my kisses. “Anything.”
“Okay. It’s…” I was kind of out of my lane here, but fuck it, for all I knew, the whole road was mine—“I need you to sort things out with Ellery.”
“She hates me, Arden. She’ll reject any overture I make.”
&n
bsp; “She doesn’t hate you. But yeah, she’ll probably reject whatever you do. At least the first…fifty…sixty times you try.”
Caspian’s worry line was back. “And you still want me to do it?”
“I can’t make you. But I think you owe her the attempt. The attempts. I mean, this shit’s complicated and can’t be fixed overnight. But she shouldn’t have to live believing she’s worthless to you.”
“You’re right. Of course you’re right.”
“And”—apparently I wasn’t done—“you should offer Bellerose his job back. At, like, twice the salary.”
“Twice the salary?” Caspian looked genuinely startled. “You do realise that would make him one of my highest paid employees.”
“I don’t care. You can afford it. Besides, you suspended him for asking a perfectly reasonable question about your well-being.”
“I admit, that was unworthy of me.”
“Anyway, I don’t think he’ll take it. At least, I think he shouldn’t take it. He cared for you way more than you ever acknowledged or valued, and it wasn’t good for him.”
“On the contrary,” said Caspian, with a depth of regret that eased a knot I hadn’t realised had been stuck inside me, “I valued it deeply. But I also questioned it, as I questioned everything touched by Lancaster.”
I shivered, remembering all too vividly Steyne’s hands on me, marking every place they’d landed like paint splatter. Maybe someday I’d tell Caspian what had happened, but right now, it felt too much like giving Lancaster Steyne what he wanted. “He’s not the centre of the fucking universe. Sometimes it only matters what things are, not where they came from.”
“I’ll try to contact Bellerose tomorrow.” Leaning in, Caspian kissed the tip of my nose, that tiny flicker of warmth enough to render Steyne as insubstantial as dust. “Now, is there anything else I can give you, my Arden? It’s a little early for my hand in marriage. And you already have my kingdom at your feet. My heart for yours.”
I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, making me blush like a schoolboy at his first prom. Caspian had once told me he wasn’t romantic. It was something else he’d got beyond wrong. “I…I…guess a ride home would be nice.”