Rightfully Hers

XVIII

ISABELLE

"Jada."

Her name, which I intended to call out, had come out no louder than a whisper. I knew she heard it, because her bottom lip quivered ever so slightly before she slipped her stoic mask on.

"Jada, I came here to talk. I've been looking for you all day."

I figured she needed some sort of explanation as to what I was doing standing fifteen feet away from her in the pouring rain. I wasn't sure whether she cared or not, but I hoped with every ounce of my being that she did. That she, against everything, wanted me to find her. Wanted me to be with her.

"Please, Isabelle." Her tone was rough, and I knew immediately it was a defense mechanism, a way to pretend she wasn't hurting when she really was. I didn't comment on it, and rather let her continue speaking, her tone a bit weaker than the last. "Not right now."

My heart lurched in my chest and I bit my lip to stop it from quivering. "Please, Jada, just let me speak. You don't even have to say anything, just listen. And if by the end you're not convinced, I'll personally send you back to Toronto. Okay?"

She did not speak, but her swirling gaze didn't leave mine, and I took it as my cue to continue.

"Our relationship has been difficult from the very beginning, I know that. We are two completely different species with two completely different belief systems. But whoever decided to make us mates, whatever happened to cause us to be paired together, it's because we are capable of overcoming whatever comes at us." I looked at her for some sort of confirmation, but she had moved her gaze away from mine.

"I want to be with you, Jada. I want to live in my - our - house, I want to come home to you after working. I want Arabelle to find a home with you, she's only ever had me as a parent, and she has always liked you. I want a future with you, Jada, can't you see that?"

I was becoming more frustrated, and my anger surged through my entire body when she sighed and whispered, "Isabelle..."

"Fuck!" I yelled at her. "I'm in love with you, Jada Warren. I am so utterly and unconditionally in fucking love with you, and you have the audacity to continuously push me away. I know you're scared, fuck, I'm scared too, but stop trying to leave when all I want is to fucking love you! I don't care what happens to me, Jada, because as long as you're with me, I'll be content. I'm always content when I'm with you. And I know I'll always want you. I'll want you tomorrow and next week and next year and sixty years from now. I will never fucking stop loving you, so why can't you just let me love you?!"

She was standing now, so close she may have been able to feel my labored breathing, not that I cared. I sent her an exasperated expression, completely tired of playing cat and mouse with her.

Jada was, in the nicest way, beyond furious. Her stormy eyes were glowing with rage, the raindrops falling off her thick lashes not simmering the anger in the slightest. "Isabelle, I could lose everything."

"I'll give up everything then," I whispered. "I'll give the pack to Cass. I'll move to Toronto. I would move oceans if it meant keeping you."

Her lips curled into a scowl. "Don't say that, that's not fair."

"Well then what do you want from me, Jada? What do you want? What can I do to make you happy?" The desperation was very clear in my tone, but I was ready to drop to my knees and beg her to decide.

"I want a lot of things, Isabelle. I want to run away screaming. I want to go back to Toronto and pretend this entire thing didn't happen. But-"

I stepped closer.