Page 111 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

He says nothing for a while, just looks at the river.

“I glowered at her as I left, angry that she was too weak to come along. That was the last time I saw her. Because she was too weak to take the keys away from him herself. And I knew that.”

“Theo—”

“That was my role. Getting the keys. It was how I kept the three of us alive.”

“Like it was your fault? She was an adult. She could’ve taken the keys.”

Cars whiz past up there in the distance. “In theory, yes. In reality, she couldn’t have taken them any more than she could’ve pole-vaulted over the house.”

“So you think it’syourfault?”

The look he gives me breaks my heart. It’s ayes, tattooed deep in his heart. “It was inevitable.”

“That is such shit!” I say. “It was her job to take away the keys. To be watching out for you.”

“In a perfect world,” he says.

“Inthisworld.”

He’s silent.

“What does Willow say? Surely she agrees.”

“She doesn’t know. I mean, she knows they went off. She knows I left, but she’s never thought it through in terms of cause and effect.”

“Maybe because there isn’t any cause and effect that involves you.”

He keeps peeling his label, and I know with every bit of certainty inside me that I’m the first person he’s confessed his guilt to.

His supposed guilt.

I get up and stand next to him. “You should tell your sister.”

“I’m not going to tell my sister. Especially now. She has problems of her own.”

“You can’t carry it like this. You need to talk about it.”

He looks over at me, then. “Isn’t that what fuck buddies are for?”

“No, actually.”

It’s here I wonder—is that why he’s so crazy to get the formula? Is there some invisible balance sheet he’s trying to even out?

He gets off some of the label and shoves it into his pocket. A river full of litter and he won’t add to it. “They always tell that story like I’m a hero. You can see now why I’m not a fan.”

“God, Theo.”

I slide a hand onto his arm. I really want to hold him, but he’ll resist. This is the most affection he’ll tolerate right now—a small touch.

“I’m going to come back to your place with you,” I say. “And make you some nice hot cocoa.”

“I don’t want a pity visit.”

“It’s not a pity visit. I just want to.” And I don’t want him to go back to work tonight. That’s what he’ll do. It seems wrong. “You think you can stop me?”

His eyes lower to mine. “Yeah.”

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