Page 34 of The Last One
“I didn’t mean—”
I hold up my hands in apology. “I know.” My gaze wanders back to the trees and those stumps. “This place is exhausting.” I poke the pitiful lengths of wood with my foot. “If I’m being honest, you areallawful.”
Jadon clears his throat and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
Ugh. I did it again. “I didn’t meanyou. I meant collectively. You’ve been so accommodating, and I do appreciate your kindness.” My head is now killing me, and I just want to lie down.
“Sounds like you and Jamart hit it off,” he says with a lifted eyebrow.
I blanch. “How do you know we got along?”
“Small town. Word travels fast. Especially when someone who’s known to be grumpy is seen grinning from ear to ear after spending time with a lovely young lady.”
“I have that effect on some people.” Despite a flush of warmth at his flattery, my voice sounds weary and flat. “And in this town, I have that effect on only one person.”
He squints into the sky. “Oh, there’s more than one person.”
I sigh, unable to conjure a witty comeback. I’m in no mood for banter, even with Jadon. That confrontation with Sybel has left me feeling hollow and ungrounded.
Jadon nods at the pouch from Jamart tied to my sash. “A gift?”
“Yep.” I tap the small bag. “Some men know how to treat a lady.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Really? What could he have possibly given you?”
I lift my chin. “Eight geld for starters. Am I giving the geld to you to pay off my debt? If you don’t mind, I’d prefer that. I don’t wanna be near Freyney or Narder again.”
Jadon studies me. “I’ll handle it.” He steps closer. “What’s going on? You’re troubled.”
I pick up the hatchet and focus on chopping more branches in half.
“You can talk to me,” he says. “I wanna help. I don’t make candles, but I think spoons are also great, and if you want to learn how to make one—”
I snort and laugh, resting the hatchet on the stump I’m using as a block. “Spoons?”
He waggles his eyebrows. “Forks, if you wanna live dangerously.”
For a moment, our eyes lock and I’m tempted. I want to talk to him. I want him to comfort me. I want to reach out and stroke his cheek, kiss his injured hand, call him “lovely,” and take a nap right here with him beside me. I want him to say my name again, and I want to tell him about growing up in some part of Vallendor far from here and the name of my favorite horse and what I like to do after a long workday. But I know none of these things,still, and after talking with Sybel, I don’t know if Iwantto know.
The sting of tears again. “I’m…” Exhausted. Frustrated. Woeful.
Jadon hesitates before quickly setting a comforting hand on my arm and just as quickly withdrawing it. “Hey, it’s okay to be sad. To be disappointed. I know it must be hard to not remember your past life. But you’ll remember, I promise.”
A defeated sigh escapes my lips. No one can promise such a thing. Not even this man with his comforting voice and sincere expression. I place several pieces of wood in the bucket.
“When I told you that I’d help you figure it out, I meant it, okay?” He offers me a soft smile tinged with sadness. “Think of it this way: not knowing your past may be better than having an awful one. I know there could be countless reasons that keep you from remembering—and to be frank, you may want to forget what happened before yesterday. I guess…”
He chews his bottom lip, thinking. “I guess I don’t want you to despair. Maybe this is a chance to start over, make new memories. Do things differently this time. Take a chance or hold back. Go left instead of right.”
How will I make amends for my failures?
Maybe that’s all Sybel meant—this is my new start, a new beginning.
“That’s an interesting way of looking at it.” I push out a breath and shake it off, shoving several more pieces of wood into the bucket, then straightening. “I know you mean well, but… You have no idea how untethered I am. You don’t want me to despair, but I’m well into despair, and my new start hasn’t been as promising as you just made it sound.”
“Maford,” he says.
“Maford,” I say, nodding.
