Fractured Desires

Chapter 10

"Since when does Natalie Foster work for you?"

I ignore Luke's pestering and focus on the fiscal report that's in front of me. I want to be busy. I need to be distracted. Especially after the day I just had.

"You're going to have to tell me at some point," Luke chuckles, putting both feet on the couch.

"Don't you have anything better to do!?" I snap back angrily. "I have an idea... Why don't you go somewhere else and prepare for your interview?"

Luke shrugs. "I think I'll be okay... I like to wing these kind of things."

I clench my fists, debating whether I should throw the TV remote in his face. Maybe then he'd leave me alone. "I don't think Mother would be happy if she knew you were wasting your time doing nothing."

"Can't you see that I want to spend time with you, Roman... Besides, since when do you care if mom is happy or not?" Luke snorts.

I shake my head. "I don't... Why don't you go check out the gym? You look like you need a workout."

"You have a gym in your house?!"

"I live in a penthouse, Luke. There are a lot of things here... On second thought, instead of lounging in my living room, why don't you go explore my house... Maybe then, I'll be able to focus on this report."

"Fine! If you really want me gone, I'll go..."

As Luke disappears around the corner, I can't help but sigh with relief. I love my brother, but his meddlesome personality is unbearable at times. He's just like our mother in that regard.

Redirecting my gaze to the report on my laptop, I make an attempt to concentrate, but my mind keeps wandering back to Natalie. I can't shake my frustration regarding the day's events. From the moment I walked into the office until I left, she treated me as though I were invisible, an unwanted presence. It's clear she's angry at me, and I hate that all I can do is wonder how long it'll be before she talks to me again.

I open the can of iced tea that's been in my pocket for hours, hoping it'll help clear some of my thoughts. Even though I know how absurd the situation is, and that I'm absolutely not at fault, I can't help but feel a pang of guilt. 

Maybe what I'm feeling is because Natalie has been projecting her own idealized version of who I should be, rather than who I am. It's clear she's got a unique perception of me, and I can't quite grasp where it comes from. Does she think I'm some paragon of ethics and justice, always ready to lend a helping hand? Is that what drove her to seek my help in breaking up her sister's wedding?

Shaking my head in frustration, I set the can of iced tea on the floor. I'm angry with myself. I'm annoyed by my own thoughts. The only reason I can think of why she'd come to me is because of our past. During my childhood years, I was like an older brother to Natalie. Whenever Madeleine and I played together, she'd tag along, and we'd take care of her.

No! It still doesn't make sense! I don't think she'd trust me just because I was nice to her when we were kids...

Thinking back on it, was it possible that I was missing some of my memories? I couldn't put my finger on it. When it came to my high school years, my recollections of Natalie were notably scarce. In fact, I could only recall one instance where I'd seen her. It was a memory of her in the library, braces glistening, glasses perched on her nose. I was in my senior year and she was a freshman...

Is that why I feel strangely responsible for her? Is it because I'm missing memories?

I knew that in a perfect world, what I was suggesting would seem irrational. Crazy even. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for me. Back in my senior year of high school, I'd been in a car accident where I suffered severe trauma to the head. Or at least, that's what I was told. Even after a decade, I had little to no recollection of the actual accident. All I remembered was waking up to the bright lights of the hospital...