Page 46 of Healing His Mate

“Youdid nothing to me, Nalba. I do not blame you for my burns. You did not cause this,” I gesture to the burns hidden behind strips of cloth and medical tape. “Stop torturing yourself.”

“How can I not?” she asks, her voice quieter now as she throws her hands up. “Waldric, I have no idea who I am supposed to be. Or what I am supposed to be doing. My life before my head injury is still a mystery. I just . . . I wish I could remember.” Tears tumble down her cheeks, causing them to glisten in the sunlight.

I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest. She is weakening my resolve. “If you stopped worrying about what your life is supposed to be, you could live the way you want right now.”

She shakes her head, her lips trembling as they form a frown. “I cannot. I tried and it led to this. To you getting hurt.” She sniffles, angrily wiping away her tears. “I need to consider how Old Nalba would handle things.Shewas the brilliant one.Shecompleted her projects successfully.Shenever hurt anyone.She—”

“Shewas deeply unhappy!” I interject.

Nalba jerks back, her brow furrowing. “What? What do you mean she was unhappy?”

She still does not understand. She cannot see beyond her own desperate quest to be who Yignnuf wanted her to be. It is time for her to let go of the memory of that terrible male.

“Why do you think you grew close with Cloh-ee? A human mated to Varrek of all people.”

“I . . . I, um,” she sputters.

“Why do you think you assisted in the birth of Cloh-ee and Varrek’s child? Something you are not at all qualified or would normally be interested in doing.”

Silence.

“Why do you think Old Nalba would leave the shop in such a mess?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes.

“Why do you think you intervened when Jo tried to use her magic during the battle, but Tibik tried to sabotage her?”

She places her hands on her hips, her eyes darting around the path nervously. She has no answers to these questions.

“These tales of Old Nalba did not seem strange to you?”

She steps closer to me, lowering her voice in embarrassment. “There are many things that seemed strange to me about Old Nalba. I suppose I assumed she was changing. Time does that to people.”

“She was miserable! You!” I shout, frustrated that she is still resisting the truth that is so clearly within her reach. “You were in a dark place as Ahlvo once was. You were working constantly and that did not make you happy. You were too exhausted to clean up after yourself. Cloh-ee tried to help you, but you would give her some excuse about everything being in a stage of experimentation.

“You allowed her into your life, but you still kept her from getting too close. That is why she was unable to tell you what you were working on before you were injured.” I sigh, my cheeks and forehead hot from spewing years’ worth of truths. “She was by your side each day, and still she had very little insight into what you were doing.”

Nalba’s gaze goes unfocused as she stares off in the distance.

“You think I did not know about you and Lahkzo?” I ask. Her eyes lock onto mine and then dip down to her feet. “Everyone knew. It did not bother me because I knew he did not care for you, nor you for him.”

She bites into her bottom lip, staring intently at the dirt beneath her.

“And you liked Jo. I saw you interact with her. A Hexrin.” I take a step closer, empathy making it impossible to maintain the distance between us. “You wanted more from your life, Nalba. You wanted something beyond the walls of your shop. You just did not know where to find it.”

“How do you know any of this?” she asks, choking back a sob. “Why did you not tell me?”

“You never asked,” I tell her simply. “And how do I know?” I scoff. “Because I have been infatuated with you since we were children. I pay attention to your needs. I listen when you speak. All I ever want is to put a smile on your face, to let you know you are more than the inventions milling inside your head.”

She covers her face with her hands. I step closer and remove them. “I see you, Nalba. But you never even noticed me.”

My gaze lifts to the sky, and I am reminded of all that I must accomplish this day. “I need to go,” I tell her, releasing my grasp around her delicate wrists.

“Wait . . .” she cries when I begin to walk away. “Will I see you later?”

“I am not sure,” I reply. “It may be best for us both to have space. For now.”

She nods, despite the pout on her lips and the tears pouring from her eyes.

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