From Pemberley to Manhattan [COMPLETED]

Chapter 36

Nat

Even though I'd slept really late, I was fully awaken by six A.M. Feeling in desperate (and guilty) need of talking to Doug, I decided that, now the power was back on, it was time to drop by his house.

Since I had a copy of his keys, he didn't even need to be at home. I'd wait all day if necessary. I couldn't tell which I needed the most: to spend some time with my boyfriend or some time Darcyless.

I put on a pair of blue jeans and a Rolling Stones black T-shirt and left my room. Darcy was passed out on our couch, his shirt was mercifully back on, and his cheeks had the cutest shade of pink.

"Let's get moving, Nathalie Estevez Brown!" A little voice in my head scolded.

Doug lived in a two-bedroom apartment he'd rented from a dear uncle that charged him less than half the market value rent. It was in a five-story red-bricked building, on the corner of Lexington Avenue and 106th Street. About a twenty-minute walk. Just what I needed.

The city was still remarkably silent, only a few runners and some people returning home after partying all night. It was a little past seven when I walked past St. Cecilia Parish, an imposing construction with Romanesque style and ornate brick and terra-cotta façade. Doug's building was right after it, almost as impressive.

One of the things I loved the most about New York: the mixture of style, history, and architecture.

I climbed the stairs to his apartment feeling reinvigorated and excited, the whole Darcy thing practically evaporated from my mind. Okay, that was a lie, but I did feel better.

Silently, I opened the door of apartment 3A and let myself in Doug's home. As expected, it was a royal mess; shirts were hanged over the back of the dinner table chairs, piles of plates were in the sink, shoes were spread on the wooden floor. Poor guy had been working long hours at the precinct.

The place smelled of cigarettes and beer; another indication Doug had been having a rough time at his job, since he avoided smoking on a daily basis. I bit back a laugh when I noticed even his precious LED HDTV had clothes thrown over it. Doug had spent an entire month salary in his home theater system, so when he treated it as any other piece of furniture, one could be sure he wasn't alright.

Facing his beloved TV, there was his uncle's very chic dark grey sofa, with tufted back and rolled arms. Between the TV and the couch, there was a mahogany coffee table. The dinner table and matching chairs were also mahogany, as were the bookshelves and desk in the study.

Doug didn't appreciate much his uncle's elegant and expensive furniture, but he made sure no harm came to it. If he had to replace any of it, it would take a couple of salaries to pay it off.

Deciding to surprise him with a nice breakfast, I went to his kitchen. The space was the simplest of the house; his uncle certainly didn't cook. The walls were covered with dark green, original tiles, and the cabinets were old, its white turning into a creamy tone.

There was a tiny island in the middle of it, just big enough to organize everything for my surprise. Glancing around the space, I considered cleaning it up as a secondary surprise, but only if I could do it quietly. I know: I was such an amazing girlfriend! When I wasn't dreaming about a certain Brit...

Anyway, I picked up a couple of glasses in the dining room and placed them in the sink. One of them, a wine glass, had a red lipstick mark on its edge. Huh, his sister Jane must have come to check on him. But I couldn't remember her using that shade of lipstick. Actually, I was pretty sure she didn't use any make up at all.

Using my peripheral vision, I noticed something in the foyer, tossed on the floor, as if it had been left there in a hurry. It was also feminine; however, I was certain it didn't belong to Jane: pink lace panties.

Unconsciously, I grabbed a half-filled bottle of wine and walked on tiptoes toward his room. On his bed, there were two different body shapes covered, one considerably larger than the other. The jerk had spent the night with someone else.

Flocking nice, Doug. Hope you've been safe.

I was angry, I must admit, yet what was reaping my insides was a feeling of disgust. I couldn't believe I'd been blaming myself for dreaming about Darcy when we'd never even kissed! What an idiot I had been!

Well, all that was left to do was to wake him up and break things off like an adult. So I poured the remaining of the wine over him and his female guest, like the mature woman I was.

Doug woke up with a scream, looking for his gun. It was on his living room floor, where he'd left his pants and his last shred of faithfulness. He stared at me wordless, probably thinking I was a dream.

Actually, I was a nightmare right now. His personal nightmare.

I'd just decided what to say to him, so I could humiliate his cheating face and leave with my dignity – almost – intact. Until I saw who he'd been cheating on me with.

"WHAT THE–"

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