Otatso Wetlands Break free and leave us in ruins

Mahler had a lot to say. It was possibly the most he had ever said at once. Wylla listened, too exhausted by this endless cycle of theirs to interject the way she normally would, and with too hard a grasp on herself to let her emotions run away with her this time. She had no tears left to cry for him, leaving anger the only option, and anger trended too close to passion to be safe for her now.
When he finished, she remained silent a long while, wondering why he bothered. She had no inkling that he believed she had chosen Stag over him. Stag deserved a hundred times better than the broken pieces of Wylla, who believed wholeheartedly now that she must have done something very wrong in her life to deserve suffering at every turn. It never occurred to her that sweet, loyal, kind Stag might want her, or that that was even an option, or that Mahler knew it.
She wasn't the only one Mahler had let down, after all. She assumed, somewhat obliviously, that was the true source of Stag's ire. The Sandraudiga said nothing with his mouth, but even a sidelong glance allowed her to read the tension in every youthful line of his body.
We cannot stay here much longer, she noted.
Why are you telling me all this now? Wylla hoarsely asked. She suspected it was only because of how she smelled, and wondered why she wasn't offended that this was the reason Mahler chose to bloody his knuckles and bare his heart for her, when so many times before, he had not. Or why she wasn't offended that he tried to justify his prior rejection by claiming she was worth more than a spontaneous decision, which had made her feel worthless instead.
Her throat no longer quaked with a growl, but her lips were still pulled away from her teeth, to remind Mahler that he stood on thin ice and would meet more than one set of teeth if he set his against Stag.
Is this you trying to say you've changed your mind? She loathed the leap of hope in her chest that that was what this was, because he didn't deserve it, and she couldn't cope with another blow. It seemed that Wylla's greatest weakness these days was a tendency to offer endless chances to those few she truly loved, even when she expected nothing but pain in the process, with the hope they would prove her wrong this time.
Because you're so... So good at saying all these pretty words to express your love, but I told you what I need from you and you would not do it before, and if this is just because you want fatherhood again, if you still expect... she broke off, drawing in a steadying breath to try to tamp down the anger she felt rising in her voice. It would do no good to get worked up, not for her and certainly not for him or Stag. She wasn't even really making sense, spitting out half-formed thoughts before moving onto the next one like that.
Mahler, she shakily breathed, gaze narrowing, don't tell me I'm worth everything to you if you don't mean to show me.