Something Borrowed

Chapter 30: Losing Something Already Lost

            Nathaniel stayed in his office that evening until seven o'clock, until every staff member had left the building. He'd replayed the scene between him and Astoria in his mind for the past seven hours. He buried his face in his hands, letting out a loud, frustrated groan. Portia had called him three times earlier, wondering where he was, but he eventually turned the phone off, too annoyed to listen. He had bigger things to worry about than her fabrications about how their affair got leaked to the public.

He didn't know what to do about Astoria. He knew he should have said yes, she had every reason to want the things he had promised her, and yet, he couldn't do it. He could not let her go. He chose her because he knew she was a good choice. She had everything he wanted, but she was so much more than the credentials he had asked for. He and Astoria might have limited interactions, but when they collided, he loved the thrill of the fight. She was so strong and wild; he loved her spirit. She knew what she wanted, and she wouldn't stop until she got it. It was an attribute that got her into trouble, but he could usually contain her wild streak.

He was being selfish not giving her the life she wanted. She was right, if she wasn't happy, he was going to miserable. But he'd rather be miserable with her than miserable without her. But he knew that Astoria had a wildly unpredictable streak: when she wasn't pleased, she acted out, rashly.

For so long, he thought he loved Portia, but even his mother noticed how he behaved different around her, and that was all thanks to Astoria. He never told his mother about his infidelity, but he also knew she wasn't blind to their interactions at social meetings. He had loved Portia for years, but when Astoria came back to court, his mother all but forced his hand. She asked for him to test Astoria, she wanted him to pursue Astoria, at least for a short while, before he made a decision. When she saw how well they worked together, she got to work, scheming, filling Astoria with hope that they could be something more.

And he couldn't say that Astoria wasn't the better option, at least for his social appeal. The Wellington name brought a lot of pull, and he liked the idea that he had such a strong, powerful wife. His chest filled with pride just thinking about her. She was a curiosity to him-one he earned his fill of. After their wedding, on their honeymoon, he found himself growing attached to her vulnerability, he thought it would be easy to seduce her into a marriage, but he never expected the guilt. After they married, there was nothing he could do. The prenuptial was signed and neither of them could back out, it would ruin both of them. Even she understood the damage a divorce would bring to both of them, which was why their conversation unsettled him so much. She was willing to sacrifice everything-for what-Rafael? Rafael loved her, but he could never provide for her like he could, or at least that was what Nathaniel kept telling himself.

She knew that his company was his first priority, then Portia, because that was how it had always been. Astoria was the one who had to fit into his plan. He was content until she came to Paris after her leave; her presence just seemed to cause more problems. After his mother told him that she wanted him to court Astoria, he couldn't help but stare at her outside the gala, trying to see what his mother saw in her.

She was beautiful, more beautiful than Portia, but she had a history. She was a loose canon; no one could keep control of her, she was a saboteur. He could never figure out why his mother would jeopardize his legacy for her? She was nothing special, at least, not from looking at her resume. She was a troublemaker, a vixen, but his mother saw more potential in her than she had ever seen in Portia, so that was reason enough for him to give her a chance.

They began innocent enough, he sent the books to the penthouse her mother said she'd admire; a collection that was priceless to an avid book lover like her. Then he took her to the ballet, introduced her to his parents, went on a couple dates, and then he proposed. It was easy enough; they both used each other for a different reason. He needed a respectable partner, and she needed to prove herself to society.

The entire time they were courting, he knew it would be a disaster, but he persevered anyways. He knew that she'd never be happy with him, but he didn't care. He saw her as a victory, and as selfish as that sounds, he needed her to prove to the world that he could tame the world's most notorious untamable woman. Women usually bowed down to him, but Astoria put up a fight. She wasn't as immediately coaxed by his charms and assets, which seemed to intrigue him more. She had money enough to support the lifestyle she wanted, and she was independent enough to survive the ridicule of society. But she still chose to marry him, and he knew it was only a matter of time until she rebelled against him.

He had seen this coming-this inevitable conflict. He didn't doubt that she would do something rash-she'd always lash out in somewhat cruel ways. But the look in her eyes today made his heart shrink in his chest, constricting, making it difficult to breath. He couldn't ignore the resolve, which was always followed by something catastrophic.

He knew this time was different. Her words sounded more drastic-they held more conviction than they ever had before. Her actions were easy enough to handle before, he could cover them up as a night out with too much spirits, or cover it up by replacing the grand piano in her penthouse after she glued every key together when he kept playing the same tunes over and over.

He couldn't stop the smile that curved at the corners of his mouth. Astoria was a real piece of work, but she was his piece of work. She was his responsibility, and she was right: anything that she did now was solely his fault. He just prayed it was something that he could easily mend with a phone call.

He begrudgingly decided he should try to fix things before she does something they'll both regret. He picked up his private office phone, hesitantly dialing her cell. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight rings. His call was forwarded to voicemail. She was ignoring him; he should have expected it.

He sighed, dialing her house number. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight rings, and once again, he reached the voicemail. He sat back in his chair. He would give her some time, he decided. He turned his cell phone on and was immediately bombarded with missed calls and texts. His brows knit together as he looked at his voicemail box, filled with six voicemails.

He let out a long sigh. "What did you do, Astoria?" He asked aloud, the irritation clear in his voice. He felt fear creeping up his back as he ran scenarios through his mind. Did she go to the press? Did Portia do anything? Did she tell his mother? Was she okay?

He turned the speaker on, setting the phone on the desk, packing up his briefcase as he played the first message from her mother.

He could hear screaming in the background and immediately stopped what he was doing, his heart racing. He knew that scream; it was his mother's scream, echoing like a broken record. His heart sank as he felt his chest growing tight.

"Nathaniel," her mother's broken voice said through the speaker. He closed his eyes, trying to hear her voice from the muffled screams and shouts in the background. "Nathaniel, please, meet us at the hospital, something is terribly wrong with my daughter-I don't know what could have happened-she was so happy this afternoon when I surprised her-" her sentence broke off as he strained to hear what she said. She rambled off the address and he furiously scribbled it on a sheet of paper. "Nathaniel-she-I-" there were muffled noises in the background as he sat forward in his seat, trying to make out the rest of the conversation before the call went dead.

He flew from his seat, running out of his office and toward the elevator, banging on the doors, willing them to open. He continued to play the messages as he ran out of the building, towards his car in the lot. He put the key into ignition, racing down the streets, running nearly every red light, not concerned with how many accidents he almost got into on his race to find his wife.

He parked his car outside the hospital, not caring that he was in a tow away zone and raced toward the emergency. He glanced down at his phone before playing through the messages again. He received one from his father, one from Rafael, one from his mother, two from Livingston, and one from Portia. As he listened to the last message though, his entire world stopped as Rafael's hollow voice came through the speaker.

"I hope you're happy, Nathaniel,because I think we both just lost her."