Chapter 59 You are Nymphaea
“You…” Finn took another step back, eyes coloring with hurt betrayal.
“Is that why you’ve suddenly been good to me?”
“What?” I choked out, taking a step closer. He took a third step back.
“I have always been good to you!”
“I should’ve known. You… You’re too damn selfish to care about anyone but yourself!”
“Finn!” I exhaled in exasperation, but his eyes were furious, as furious as Hale’s had been upstairs.
And I wondered if he was refusing to listen now because this was the perfect outlet for all the pain and hurt of his heartbreak.
“I’m not your wife,” he spat out, “I do not feel even a bit feminine. Not anywhere.”
“From the boner I just felt when you pressed against me. I have no reason to doubt you.”
“Fuck you!” he pointed angrily, his loud voice carrying around the garden. Frightening the birds into flight.
“Finn…” My voice rose in alarm, “Don’t take another step,”
He was backing away from the shade of the tree, moving towards direct sunlight.
“Stop telling me what to do, okay? You're not the boss of me!”
In that moment, he could have been an aggrieved teenager, not this grown man with the shoulders of a football player who had an inch on me.
“Stop!” My voice rattled the atmosphere, curling the wind between us into a visible spiral.
He froze.
Bloody hell, I was losing him again. That loathing was back in his eyes.
Talking to him in this state was useless. And if I couldn't get to him, then Nymphaea...
I paused. Nymphaea!
My eyes traveled round the garden, to the new burst of lilies that had sprung up everywhere, weaving through petunias and zinnias, alive and vibrant when they hadn't been here just last night.
They continued to rain down the American elm tree, like rose petals, from a source that was invisible.
“You did not do this?” My brows furrowed as my chest tightened.
“I really wish I were that powerful… I wish I had that much power so I could...”
My hand shot out, grabbed him and pulled him against me.
I pinned him in my arms as my body trembled, holding him till his struggles eased into tears, and he melted in my arms.
We were running out of time.
All this time we wasted fighting and arguing and… Finn was going to die.
I would fail Nymphaea one final time, and he would die if we could not break through his mind and unlock the memories.
This was my very last chance.
“Listen to me, Finn.” I pulled back and grabbed his face between my hands, “You do not have the luxury to cry over, Lys.”
He started to protest, but I shook my head.
“Listen. Please...” my voice was airless.
Any more yelling and I would lose him.
“These lilies used to be your signal to me. There is only one other person who could have done this. And if you really didn’t do it, then it was him.”
“What are..”
“Just listen, darling.” My thumb stroked his cheeks. It made sense now. It all made sense. I always thought he looked too beautiful to be a man.
“You know Nymphaea’s story. I told you once.”
He was quiet now, calmer.
Good.
“You don’t think you are her. But the Ashbound Councilor is quite certain that you are. For whatever reason, your soul has decided to veil itself this time, so you did not reincarnate with all your memories like you did all three times in the past.”
I dragged air into my lungs, my left hand trembling against his cheek.
“I'll lose you. You’re going to die if we don't break into your memory fast enough to know what triggered your death all three times.”
He was quiet now, listening.
But then his lips parted, and he said, “I’m not Nymphaea. I… uh. I've never felt anything like…”
“Did you hear anything I just said, sweet boy?” I groaned, tapping an impatient foot against the lawn.
“I did. You think she's hiding, yea? But I'm not, I promise. I'm not pretending to not recognize you, Daine."
I turned my back to him.
“It's your soul, Finn. It has nothing to do with this body you are now inhabiting, or what your physical mind chooses to do or not.”
“Why are you so certain, huh? Your Ashborne could be wrong.”
“You have her eyes!” I spun, unable to keep my voice down any longer. “You have her goddamn insolence. The only creature in this world not afraid to challenge me. Do you know what her signature was? Lilies.”
“It means nothing.” He snapped back. "I’ve got no idea why my hair’s always naturally smelled like lilies, but that doesn't make me your French Queen. And my eyes aren't even all green. You said she had bright green eyes.”
My fist closed around his collar, and I dragged him to the lake.
Grabbing his neck from behind, I pushed his head down so he could stare at his reflection in the water.
“What are they now?”
He paused. “Green.”
I released him. “That’s how your eyes appear on naturally reflective surfaces. You cannot tell me you haven’t noticed that before. And before you bring up more arguments, you are directly tied to all the families she has reincarnated in.”
“What?”
I ran my hand over my face. “Your soul’s footprints matched the ones in all my properties across our lifetimes, France, Berlin… and even...”
I paused, sucking in more air. “Most importantly, your Spirit helix is nearly the same as Nymphaea's despite a slight mutation.”
“What?” he repeated.
That part had almost thrown me off as well. But it makes sense that his soul's code, or DNA, as this generation of mortals preferred to call it, would be a bit different.
“The Ashbounds believe the trauma from that bastard father of yours altered it a little.” I walked closer now. “There is even more proof I cannot remember right now. I can show you the report.”
His look was different now. It had moved from stubborn denial to contemplative.
I smelled the secret nestled behind his ribs.
“Out with it. If your Juliet seems to have a lot of secrets, I bet you do too.”
His head jerked up, “Lys?”
I gave him a nod and glanced up to her new studio. They could see us no doubt, but the glass from out here was tinted.
My head swiveled back to him.
“Last night.” He managed to blush, wince and whimper all at once. “On our way home, our taxi driver was really weird.” His eyes met mine now. “He talked about a past life.”
My heart stopped. “What did he look like?”
Finn shrugged. “A middle-aged chatterbox driver, I guess? I wasn’t paying much attention. Lys would know.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Uh… something about us knowing each other in a past life.” He scratched his head shyly now.
He had forgotten.