The streak of pain across my shoulder had, somehow, become deeply focusing. A talisman that steadied my heart and unknotted my tongue and let me find the words I’d been searching for since that dreadful night at One Hyde Park when Caspian had told me his truths and broken my heart rather than face them.
“I can’t tell you how to feel about Steyne,” I said, “and I’m not here to fix you, but the way I see it, the things that happen to us shape who we are. And so when some of those things are terrible, or wrong, you have to wrap your head round the idea that accepting yourself isn’t the same as accepting what was done to you.” I went up on my toes, pressing into him, my mouth so close to his that speech felt like kissing. “And if you really want to change, you can. You have that power and no one can take it from you. But for whatever it’s worth, I don’t think you need to.”
“Arden. My Arden.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head, touching his brow to mine. “Please…teach me to believe you.”
Then came a choked-off sound. Nathaniel, smothering a sob into his hand. “I don’t understand. I’ve done everything right. I’ve tried to help you. I’ve let you do…these things to me. Why don’t you love me?”
Caspian broke away from me, his gaze seeking Nathaniel’s. “I do love you.”
“Not the way you love him.” Impatiently, Nathaniel brushed the back of his wrist across his eyes. “I’m not blind, Caspian, and I’m not stupid either. I know you’re still smoking. And I know you’re still sleeping with Arden.”
Oh fuck. Fuck. No matter what I thought of Nathaniel, I wouldn’t have wished that knowledge on him.
“I am giving up smoking,” said Caspian gently, “but have lapsed occasionally and have kept it from you because I cannot abide your disappointment. And Arden and I had a single encounter, which neither of us intended, and we both knew to be unfair to you.”
“Do you think I care about what’s fair?” Nathaniel’s voice rose—I got the sense he thought he was angry, but all I heard was hurt. “I care you want him in ways you don’t want me. That you show him parts of yourself that you won’t show me. That you’re with him in ways you’re not with me.”
A few graceless steps and Caspian was on his knees by the bed. “I’ve tried, Nathaniel, I’ve tried for years to be the man you wish I could be.”
“That’s the thing I can’t bear.” Nathaniel lifted a hand, as if he meant to touch Caspian’s hair, but then let it fall again. “When you’re with him, youare.”
“I only wish that were true. I let you down. I’ve betrayed you both. And I’m not worthy of either of you.”
“Was it really so important to you?” Again, an aborted motion from Nathaniel. “The whips and the chains and the pain and the humiliation?”
Caspian’s shoulders hunched, and he pressed his forehead to the side of Nathaniel’s thigh. “I don’t know…I’m sorry…I don’t know…”
Okay. I couldn’t take another word of this.
“Look.” I might have misjudged my volume, because they both turned towards me—taking the imperative a bit more literally than I’d intended. “I could give a big speech about how I see this stuff differently—how it doesn’t humiliate me and the pain gets me off—but I’m not. Because, one, I don’t care what you think, Nathaniel—”
He opened his mouth, probably about to protest or rebuke me.
But I steamed right on. “And two, I’m not going to let you make my whole relationship with Caspian about sex. He gave me confidence when I needed it and courage when I was scared, he made me feel special when I thought I was nobody, and believed in me when I couldn’t believe in myself. And whenyou”—I made a gesture in Nathaniel’s direction—“drag it all back to your hang-ups about kink andyou”—a flail at Caspian—“keep making it about what you think you’re worthy of, you shit all over the most important thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Silence, as thick as the velvet and roses of this awful fucking place. And Caspian, half-turned towards me again, something shocked and wondering on his face, his eyes searching mine for truths I was only too glad to yield.
“So,” said Nathaniel, with sharp-edged composure. “That’s it, then? After all we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done for you and endured for you, you’re choosing him.”
Caspian froze, his whole body pulling so rigid I half expected his spine to crack. “What do you mean?”
“Well”—Nathaniel shrugged—“it’s what you want, isn’t it? What Lancaster taught you to want.”
“What? No.” Caspian shook his head frantically, the same wild terror I’d seen in him while he’d been cuffed clawing its way through his skin like some alien parasite. “I don’t—I didn’t. Arden, please, you have to see…I can’t do this. I can’t be with you. I’ll only hurt you.”
Time was, this would have freaked me out. I mean, it still wasn’t great—but it didn’t scare me anymore. Not for my own sake, anyway. I wasn’t the bastion of calm I would have been in some ideal world, but—mouth dry and heart fluttery—I slowly sank to my knees in front of Caspian. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay. There’s only one choice you have to make today and I’m so sorry I haven’t helped you make it before.”
His breath rasped. And he was shaking again—tiny vibrations that made me want so badly to hold him as tightly and surely as he’d often held me.
“You see,” I went on. “I’ve been looking at this wrong the whole time. I always thought it was between Nathaniel and me. But it’s not.”
“I…I don’t understand.”
“It doesn’t matter if you choose him or me or neither of us. It only matters that you do what makes you happy and that you understand you deserve tobehappy. You’ve spent so long punishing yourself for something someone else did to you. Questioning everything you want and denying everything you need. But”—I actually clasped my hands, uncaring of how ridiculous I probably looked—“I’m begging you, Caspian, you’ve suffered enough. Choose peace. Choose freedom. Choose you.”
A pause and then, with painful uncertainty, the words practically dragging their tails behind them, “How can you want to be with me? After everything I’ve done. Now you know what I am.”
“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.”
