“I don’t, Nate. What is it about those words that you don’t understand?” She threw up her hands. A few people looked towards us, and the two of us lowered our voices. “I don’t have to know how I feel about something. Isn’t that what you always say? That’s one way to interpret it. Well, here’s one way to interpret it.I don’t fucking know.”
What the fuck was this kind of nonsense? The Mara I knew, the Mara I had fallen for, was straight with her answers. Not this ambiguous bullshit.
“Tell me what you want, Mara,” I said coldly. “Meaning is interpretable. What you want, what you desire, is not open for interpretation.Why is.”
My words hung in the air between us, and she stared at me with fire in her eyes. It didn’t matter why she wanted what she did, as long as we could find common ground together. But all of that hung on her words. What did she want?
“That’s hypocritical bullshit. You can’t tell me that everything is open to interpretation, except for my desire.”
“Answer me, Mara,” I growled. “What do you want?”
She sighed and dropped her shoulders. “Let’s forget about it for now. This is a wedding. Or a collaring ceremony, whatever. We should focus on the party.”
She forced a smile, and that was the moment that I knew that I had made a mistake. Mara might have seemed like a straight forward woman that went after what she desired, but that observation didn’t match her actions anymore.
