53. Isabella
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
ISABELLA
Iknow the layout of this event like the back of my hand, so I’m at Georgie’s booth in record time.
I don’t know if Nick is following me, but I don’t want him to. Not right now. I need answers, and right now, I don’t trust him to give them to me.
He’s been holding onto this for who knows how long. He had his time to say it himself if he wanted to.
Is being a mate so terrible? Why else wouldn’t he want to tell me? Why?
And why does everyone else seem to know what’s going on except for me?
“Georgie, what’s a mate?” I blurt out right as she’s filling up someone’s coffee.
“FUCK!” she exclaims as her body jerks, spilling the hot liquid onto her hand instead.
I grab napkins from the side and help her clean everything up as she fixes the coffee and hands it off.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “But what’s a mate?”
She clears her throat, examining her hand for burns. “Why are you asking?”
She’s cagey about this, too. Great. “A man came up to Nick and me and said it was great that he finally found his mate. Nick just…stood there. As far as I know, he’s still standing there.”
“Shit,” she exhales, staring up at the sky as if someone up there will help her. “He really should be the one explaining this to you. I think he’ll be pissed if I talk about it.”
“Well, then, he should’ve thought about that before turning into a giant-ass werewolf statue. Tell. Me.”
“Okay. Okay. Just gimme a second.” She grabs the arm of the barista she brought with her, giving instructions as I wait. Eventually, she comes to my side. “Do you know what soulmates are?”
“Like the cartoon princess stuff?” I huff.
She nods. “Well, werewolves—most supernaturals, actually—have fated mates. It’s someone we can usually recognize as our person by their scent. We only get one.”
Why would Nick be so scared to tell me this? As realization dawns on me, ice-cold rejection cools my veins so fast I visibly shiver. Of course. He doesn’t want me as his mate. What other explanation could there be?
“Because of the whole ‘only one’ thing,” Georgie continues. “It’s difficult to find them. Some people never do.”
Despite the rejection, anger, and resentment building, a small shard of sadness pierces through. “That’s kind of sad.”
“Yeah, ain’t it? It’s even sadder when you finally accept you’re not going to find your mate, and then they show up. I’ve seen weird shit happen. But anyway. You’re Nick’s mate.” She glances at me, worry drawing her eyebrows together.
“I see.” What else can I say? I’m apparently his soulmate, and he never told me. And she never told me. And when someone else told me, he got so freaked out he practically turned into stone.
I thought we were happy, but maybe this whole thing was too good to be true.
“Listen.” Georgie rounds on me, stopping right in front of me, but I refuse eye contact. “Mates are a weird topic in the werewolf world…especially when our mate is a human. Give Nick a second to explain himself. I promise that while his reaction seems really, really bad, it’s not what you think.”
“Oh, so he doesn’t hate the idea of being my mate? He didn’t decide not to tell me because he was hoping I would leave and he could forget all about me?” Frustration bleeds into my tone. The rejection behind it tastes like acid.
Her smile is sad as she reaches for my hand. “I can promise you none of that is true.”
I rip away from the contact. “How?”
“Because I know Nick. Because I know what I’d do if I ever found my mate. Because I know you.”
Her words don’t help. The silver knife of pain slices through my chest, anyway. “It’s obvious you two have talked about this. Without me. Has he talked to Dane, too? Has he talked to everyone about how I’m his mate, except for me?”
No wonder Dane was acting so fucking weird. Did it bother him that Nick was lying to me?
“Let’s find Nick.” She ignores my question, reaching for my hand again, but I stay rooted to the spot. “I promise this is just a misunderstanding. A miscommunication. One of those stupid moments in books where you sit there yelling at the characters to just talk.”
“I will not chase after him.” Stubborn resolve fills my belly as I stare her down. “I was right there. If he wanted to explain, he would have. If he wants to explain now, he knows where I am.”
She hangs her head, but nods. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
“And you knowing about this really drives the knife in, Georgie. I thought we were closer than this.”
Redness spreads on her cheeks, but she doesn’t say anything.
The walls that have protected me for my entire life build up around me in record time until I hold my head high. I’ve never been good enough for anyone, but I’ve always been good enough for myself.
And I will not embarrass myself.
“Thank you, Georgie,” I say, adopting my ‘work voice’. “I have an event to run.”
Without waiting for a reply, I snatch my clipboard from her booth to make sure everything is on schedule, despite my heart feeling like it’s trying to shatter into a million pieces.
Despite the tears threatening to fall over my cheeks.
I’ll get past this, just like I get past everything in my life. I’ll finish this job, go back to Seattle, and keep moving forward.
Just like I always do.