Scared. Scared? Hartley thought he was scared. If only it were something as simple as that. Eobard wasn't entirely sure what the feelings that were keeping him from moving forward were. After all, he'd had several thoughts over the decades of just abandoning his pursuits and settling into something of a normal life. He'd had even more thoughts along those lines when he'd actually meet this new Barry that his interference had created, when he'd developed relationships with Barry and Cisco and Caitlin and Joe. He'd thought about it. Repeatedly. But there had always been a part of him that he ended up violently reminded that he didn't belong in this time period, that he would have stagnated here, that he needed to get home... and that what he had done had been the only real option he'd had to get there once Barry realized who he really was.
After all, it wasn't like the guy who killed his mother could have asked nicely for a trip back to the future.
"I let you think that because it was easier," Eobard said, his voice quiet as he crossed to offer Hartley the drink he'd prepared. "For both of us. After all, how do you think things would have gone if I'd apologized profusely, declared my feelings, and set to making amends? I'm not that guy. I'll never be that guy. I won't say I wasn't ever that guy, but whoever I was before I entered that museum died in that moment. Maybe I could have made another choice, but I didn't see any way to. How does one argue with a time that already seems set in stone? My knowledge of the pliability of reality came too late to not create the same sort of ripple effect I tried to prevent with Barry if I'd tried to make a different choice. I kept it all just close enough... Honestly, I think I improved it. Be glad you never met Barry when his mother was still alive. He was a dick."
It was an odd note to punctuate that statement with, but it was also an honest one. He might have admired The Flash before he'd become this, before he'd set about to destroy him, but the man he'd met and fought initially before setting about his plan of attempting to kill him as a child had been... nothing like the man he knew now. The arrogance had been dialed down, and the compassion had been dialed way up.
"Hiding is so much simpler. Besides, it's not like any effort here is going to make a difference. I'm dead. Well, no, I don't exist. I'm not sure if that's better or worse."