“Whatever the hell that means, I’m going to ignore it right now. Because we’re talking about Hari, not me. Or you. You’ve had help. He hasn’t.” If she thought the softness in her eyes made what she was saying any less harsh, and absurd, she was wrong. “Vansh, what I’m trying to say is that you are pushing Hari into a place where his struggles don’t give him the tools to know how to handle things. You’re being unfair, and arrogant in thinking that just because you think it can be done, he can do it. He can’t. Not yet. Not until he’s had help and he’s ready.” She’d been trying to get Hari to see a therapist to help with his anxiety, but he’d been stubborn in his refusal. “You know firsthand the difference help makes.”

“This is not about me.” He wasn’t about to tell her that therapy was not a magic wand. It was just tools. In the end, he’d had to overcome his own challenges one step, one workaround at a time. And he’d been able to only because the people around him believed that he could. The best thing he could do for Hari right now was to trust that Hari could do anything. “Why does every conversation we have lead to this? You telling me that everything I have has been handed to me on a platter.”

She came to him and wrapped her arms around him, and despite his best effort, his indignation melted. “I know a lot of people who’ve been handed everything on a platter. But I don’t know anyone who’s done better with it than you. I know it was your work to do, and you’ve done it in ways that make me so proud of you I don’t even know what to do with it. But you’re right, this is about Hari. He can’t pull this off. Not with where he is right now. He’s fragile. It’s wrong to push him.”

She was proud of him? His brain had stopped listening after that part. The urge to pick her up and swirl her around the room was strong, but she still looked serious and he resisted. But he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. “Well, I disagree. Next week I’m going to prove you wrong. But first, about how proud you are of me . . .”

She smiled and shook her head. “You didn’t hear a word I said after that, did you?”

“Nope. So, speaking of proud, how impressed are you with those pictures Sid Dashwood and I got?” Vansh was starving and his stomach let out a growl.