Chapter Nine
Natalie woke alone the next day, and puzzled, she checked her phone.
Sorry, darling, but I've been called to Barcelona of all damned places. They needed me on the plane at the crack of dawn, and I couldn't stand to wake you. Depending on how this ends up, I might be gone for the rest of the weekend, worst luck.
I'll be busy, but not too busy to check my phone. Do you think you might want to hop the company plane out? Otherwise, I'll see you when I get back.
Natalie bit her lip, reading the message. There were a dozen things she wanted to write to him, but it all seemed strangely false and cheerful or else accusing. Though there was a part of her that missed him already, she couldn't help but be slightly relieved when she realized she was alone.
I'll miss you, please hurry back, she typed out, and then she set her phone aside.
Last night had been a revelation. She’d thought she had known Nathan, but from what Mrs. Davenport had told her, perhaps she knew less than she’d thought. She had always wondered if famous, wealthy people kept up masks, and apparently, it might go deeper than she had ever thought it would.
She deliberated for a moment, but then she decided that this was no different than the research she had done before when she was getting used to the idea of Nathan Thomas. If it was on the Internet, there could be no breech of privacy or betrayal of trust, could there? The words felt hollow to her, but she found that she couldn't resist the pull inside her. She had to find out. She couldn't let herself be ignorant.
Finding Melissa DuBerry was fairly easy, and there were quite a few images of her when she had been with Nathan. Though a part of her wanted to skip those images, Natalie made herself study them. Nathan looked different, she thought. She wondered if it was all in her head, but Nathan looked leaner, less happy, more grim, even in shots where he was meant to be smiling.
Melissa DuBerry was far curvier than Natalie, but there was no hint at all she was pregnant. Natalie was relieved for a moment, but then she started looking a little deeper. Apparently Melissa had gotten married almost a scandalously short time after she and Nathan had broken up. Her current husband was a Greek millionaire, and the couple resided in Athens where they were expecting their son in a few months.
Natalie paused for a moment, feeling a chill go over her. She felt guilty as she did the math, but in the end, the numbers were damning.
Melissa DuBerry had split with Nathan two months ago, just a couple of weeks before Natalie had met Nathan. She had married shortly after, and now she was due to give birth in three months.
Natalie sat in silence for a long time, even as everything in her was going crazy. She wanted to call Nathan to demand an explanation. How could he have a child and not tell her about it? How could he impregnate a woman and leave her? The questions swarmed around her, they could have brought her to the point of screaming. Instead, she read the articles, her proof over and over again, until she thought she would fall down.
I did this because I thought he would be good to a child, because he wanted one so badly. Was that a lie? Was this all a lie?
She thought of how kind Nathan had been, how gentle and patient. She thought of what she knew and what she thought she knew, and all of the questions went around and around until she thought she would scream.
With shaking hands, Natalie took up a pad of paper and a pen. Her words were slanting and shaking at first, but by the time she signed her name, they were strong and dark. Her phone pinged with a message from Nathan again, but she ignored it. Instead, she rose from the desk and went upstairs to pack.
I love you, I love you, I can't leave you, her mind chanted, but she quashed the voice brutally.
It was funny, in a way. Natalie had been hoping that sometime soon, Nathan would say he loved her. Perhaps it was best that it was a lie he had never uttered.
***
Nathan usually loved Barcelona. The warmth of the city, its beauty, the welcome of its people, all of those things were usually like a balm to him after the cooler temperaments of the north. This trip, however, everything seemed aggravating to him. Everything took too long, and after the first twenty-four hours, he spent his time snapping at every little grievance while counting the hours until he could be back in London.
He was regretful that Natalie had declined to come to Barcelona with him. He knew having her with him would take some of the irritation out of the trip, and all over again, he had to confront the fact that the young girl he had chosen for a mad chance at a child was simply the most important thing in the world to him.
Nathan hastily wiped the small, soft smile from his face, leaning in to listen to what the manager of the plant in Barcelona was saying instead. Even if he looked as intent as he knew how to, his mind was flying back to London and to the shy girl who seemed to carry his heart in her pocket.
I need to tell her what I'm feeling, he thought suddenly.
He could remember, clear as day, how she had said she loved him. He still wasn't sure what had stilled his tongue beyond the old need to be sure, to avoid being vulnerable. The knowledge unfolded in him like a flower, however, that he could trust Natalie. He could believe her. He could give his heart to her.
I love her, he thought.
Nathan almost stood up and left the meeting. He forced himself to stay seated. If he ran out on it now, it would only mean that he would need to return in another week, likely to people who would be justifiably angry at him. No, if he sat out the next twenty-four hours, he could be done for a while, with enough time to get back to Natalie and tell her how much she meant to him.
The moment he had his plan in place, Nathan felt a calm come over him. He would finish his meetings. He would go to a jewelry store he had found in Barcelona years ago. He would go to Natalie.
Beyond that, nothing else mattered.
He would be with Natalie.
***
Nathan scowled at the phone, a trickle of dread beginning to flow down his spine. Natalie's responses, he realized, had become short, and a while back, they had stopped entirely. He had been unable to raise her at all, and it took everything he had not to call the police to check on her. She had a habit of leaving her phone places, and sometimes he might get a belated reply to some twelve texts he had sent previously.
His apprehensions were not soothed when he entered his townhouse. Everything was perfectly in place, but there was an echo to it that made him look around uneasily.
Haunted, it feels haunted...
He only began to panic when he realized that Natalie had taken all of her things. Correction, she had taken all of the things she had brought to London with her. The clothes she had bought in London, from casual T-shirts to the green gown she had worn just before he’d left, were hung up neatly. A part of Nathan wanted to be relieved, but somehow, the impression was not of a woman who was going to return. It was of a woman who had left.
With shaking fingers, he opened the letter that had been left on his pillow. He recognized her handwriting, and sitting down on the bed, he started to read.
Dear Nathan,
I love you more than words can say, which makes what I have to do next so very hard. Nathan, I found out about Melissa DuBerry. There are so many reasons I care about you, but the first reason that brought me to you has to be the reason I stay too.
And I can't.
Did you ever mean to tell me she was carrying your child? You swore to me you would be a good father, and if I can't trust that...
I love you, Nathan. I love you, and I need to leave.
-Natalie
The blood roared in Nathan's ears. For a moment, he simply sat as still as he could, his mind whirling so much that he thought he might fall over if he started to move. He hadn't thought of Melissa in ages. What did this mean? What could Natalie possibly have heard?
For a moment, he thought he would be utterly crushed under the pain of what she had said, what she apparently believed, but then he stood up.
No.
He had always been taught that if he wanted something, he would have to fight for it. He had to find out the truth, and that meant he couldn't simply sit still and wait for what came next.
He reached for his phone and started to dial.