Page 45 of Right Next Door
Misty began grumbling under her breath – cursing him and herself and Davard in a tirade that was as venomous as it was largely nonsensical. All the while, she was grabbing at his fur, starting off her first braid. The flat braid style kept the braidstight to the scalp, almost like a French braid that never turned into a long plait, but smaller. She didn’t care if her tugging was hurting him either.
“You are truly angry,” he said softly.
“You just noticed that?” She snapped without looking up.
“No, I noticed it at the garden party. But I did not realize how deep this ran. You are truly upset with me for some reason.”
“For some reason, he says,” she scoffed. “Is it any wonder?”
“Yes. I am very confused. I think I have been a good mate to you.”
That made her head whip up, giving him an incredulous look. “Seriously?!”
“You would disagree?” He blinked, obviously surprised. Like he really thought he was being a good mate somehow.
And, really, it was that complete conviction only wavering now that gave her pause. He really didn't see anything wrong with what he had done. This wasn’t malicious. He was genuinely confused about his missteps.
And that baffled her. How could he notknow?!How did he not even have an inkling?
“You have no clue?” She asked, shocked.
“I do not.”
“You can’t even guess?”
He thought for a second before suggesting carefully, “I should have brought you flowers sooner?”
“Flowers…” She repeated, stunned. “You think I wanted flowers?”
“It is a traditional human courting gift that I have largely neglected to provide.”
“It’s not the only thing you’ve neglected.”
“Sorry?”
She blinked. Staring at him. Waiting for him to understand. And he just didn't. It didn't even occur to him. Which totally baffled her.
“How do you not know?” She asked, stunned.
“Know… what?” He asked, his concern rising.
“Tsok, this is the longest conversation we’ve had since I arrived. And I’ve been here formonths. Like, at least eleven tendays. Maybe more. I’ve lost count.”
“Yes?”
“And that doesn’t seemstrangeto you!?”
“No. Should it?” The male was stressing. He looked baffled and concerned, giving her a look that was part discomfort, part confusion, part contrition. Not for what he did – or rather, what he didn't do – but because even he knew that he didn't know what he did.
That stress on his features, the tensing of his hand under hers while her fingers were still holding onto the open end of her braid, honestly did more to calm her down than the flowers, his confusion, than even an apology, could have done.
Because he was distressed, that meant he cared. And that ran so completely counter to the concept of neglect, she couldn’t reconcile them.
Misty let out a long breath, returning to braiding. The familiar motions soothing in a way as her anger drew back like the tide, leaving her empty and hollow. Kind of sad. For herself. For this male that claimed he was her mate, and somehow thought he was a good one.
It felt like they were hitting a wall. A brick barrier that was cutting them off from each other and was too strong to break through. Because if he thought he was doing well, if he reallythought he was doing the best by her, where did they go from here? She couldn’t be with someone like that. She didn't consider herself clingy, but surely she deserved more attention than this.
Months, she’d been here. Months. And this was their first, actual, proper conversation. Even at the parties they went to, they didn't really talk. He told her things, she listened, they went home, they separated. That was it. That was what defined their relationship.
