The wish
I never do see the sunrise. Nathaniel left me to sleep in his bed. When I wake it’s three in the afternoon. I’ve missed the rehearsal at the studio and my phone is still in lockdown. Aaron and the agents are under strict instruction not to leak a thing about a certain wish list that is supposedly going viral all over the web.
The remainder of the day goes quickly. Aaron and I sit at the piano, practicing tomorrow night’s song—but not before listening to Aaron’s pleas to withdraw from the show.
The problem: I can’t bring myself to quit, just like I can’t allow Laura Barnes to take over my life anymore. I’m sick of looking over my shoulder, sick of the letters, the fear. My new vow: pretend she doesn’t exist. It’s almost easy when I’m in rehearsal mode, especially as Aaron has insisted that we alter the lyrics to our song ‘Earthquakes’. He never mentions anything about Nathaniel, and neither do I.
At five o’clock Roger Wainwright arrives. I’m shocked to learn that there’s to be a reading of Damien’s Will. Immediately, I’m worried. I’ve barely seen Nathaniel all day, such is his obsession with that code. And Aaron, he hasn’t spoken about anything other than our music.
As Aaron and Roger climb the stairs to Nathaniel’s study, I feel slightly ill. I remember the Will reading—the day I was told that my parents had died with little in their pockets, that they could barely afford rent and bills each month. I inherited their possessions—Dad’s guitars and violin, Mum’s wartime piano, photos and furniture, which I’ve carted from rental house to rental house, all of their possessions slowly diminishing with each move as the houses grew smaller. But what really struck me on that day was that they weren’t there—I had no one to sit beside me and tell me it would be okay. All I had was stuff.
An hour later, Aaron descends the staircase and walks aimlessly into the room, his face ashen. I leap from the sofa and pull him into a hug.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
He gives me a weak attempt at an embrace, then slumps into the chair closest to fireplace. “There was a video. Damien made it the night he died.”
I resist the urge to throw my hand over my mouth and gasp. Instead, I pick up my guitar and pluck a light tune. My thoughts turn to Nate, at what he must being going through.
“He’s left me his share of the company,” Aaron says, eyes blank but glassy. “He asked that I become Nate’s business partner.”
Holy crap. What a horrible way to become a billionaire. Now Aaron is going to feel obliged to work with Nathaniel. Does he even like what Nathaniel does for a living? More to the point, he has been thrown into running a world-wide enterprise.
Poor Aaron.
“Do you think you will?” I ask.
“If you’re worried about Ardent Strangers, then don’t. I’ll see through the competition, Eve.”
“That’s not what I meant. Forget about the music for a sec. What do you—?”
“How can you say that after pleading with me earlier, defending the need to continue on the show? Are you telling me that was all a load of bollocks?”
“No. No.” Okay, I was not anticipating Aaron snapping at me. “This is different. This is huge, Az. Life—”
“Don’t call me that,” he snaps again, and before I know it he’s exiting the doors set into the wall of windows. He strides out into the garden and disappears down a path. I want to go after him.
He walked away for a reason.
I strum my guitar a few times. I should check on Nathaniel.
Before I lose my nerve, I run up the stairs and knock on the study doors. Nothing. I open the doors a fraction. Nathaniel is at his desk, joined with his laptop, but his eyes are on mine. He looks flat, gaunt. He goes to speak then shakes his head, as if he knows he will be voiceless.
“Can I come in?” I ask.
A lazy wave inviting me in.
I could ask him how he is, but that seems wrong. I take quiet steps towards his desk, but he stands and paces the room, finally arriving at the wall of windows on the left.
“Aaron told me about Damien’s video. I can’t imagine—”
“What a surprise!” he laughs coldly, staring out over the forest. “Aaron can’t help but show you all the worst parts of my life—the time-capsule video, Damien’s video, the list.”
“The list isn’t so bad,” I say weakly. Although, now that I think about it, his part of the list wasn’t so hot.
“Not half as bad now that I’ve amended it, but compared to Aaron and Damien’s lists it’s pretty shite. Did you read Damien’s list carefully?”
I nod.
“Because the kid who wrote that list had high hopes, ambitions which mostly came to fruition. And look where it got him, Evangeline? Lying at the bottom of a river, all because those ambitions became too huge to handle, because he couldn’t stand the pressure anymore. He never even told me he was struggling. I could have helped him. I could have—” He thumps the window and it thuds deeply. For all I know, it’s bulletproof. He presses his forehead to the glass and stands there, staring below, or maybe focusing on nothing at all.
“But you didn’t know, Nate,” I say. “He probably didn’t want you to worry.”
“But that doesn’t help me now.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I whisper, walking across to him. I want to hold him, but I refrain.
“I need to get back to work.” He strides back to his desk and slips into his chair, reading over his work. I’m not even here.
I’m exiting the doors when he sighs, his voice low, “Give me tonight to finish this, Evangeline. Then I’m all yours.”
I nod. “Does it have to be done now? We could go for a walk—”
He raises a brow. “I have to finish this. I can’t lose you, too.”
“Lose me?” I frown, gripping the doorknob. “Why would you lose me?”
He crinkles a ball of paper in his fist and tosses it to the floor. “Because there was another letter today.”
“But you’re not going to tell me what it said, right?”
“We both need to be careful, that’s all I’m going to say.”
I snatch up the ball of paper, sure it has to be one of the letters in question.
“Don’t open that!” he pleads.
“If the letters are about both of us, I should know, Nate,” I say, unfolding the paper.
My breath hitches the second I see the charcoal lines and curves, the style reminiscent to the sketches in the front hall. I’ve made a huge mistake! Nathaniel’s artwork stares back at me. It’s drawn beautifully, soft lines and shading, the waves of my hair falling down my bare back, my face tilted up to Nathaniel’s as we kiss. Ironically, it’s an Adam and Eve pose, except that we are standing amongst a forest of mountain ash. Nathaniel is leaning against the tree and I’m pressed against him. There is a hint of my right breast but nothing more.
I’m on the verge of tears, but I blink them back. This is what he’s been working on between the hours of code, what he’d been balling up when I’d arrived last night.
When I look up, Nathaniel has returned to his screen. Sure, that code might be valuable, but as for my love life it’s proving to be a romance killer. All I have is a crinkled-up sketch to take with me as I leave, along with his words that we need to be careful.
I don’t see Nathaniel for the rest of the night. Eventually, I fall asleep in the guest room. My dreams are restless: I’m on stage with Aaron, singing our latest song. My guitar twangs and whines. I look down in horror as the strings peel away from the fretboard and the timber crumples in my hands. Aaron smiles at me and keeps on singing as if this is the best night on earth. The dream diverges and I’m walking in the forest, a hand over my rounded belly. I smile down at the baby bump as I feel a kick from within. “Nathaniel!” I call, wanting to share the moment. I call him again. I spin on the spot. I’m alone. The dream diverges and I’m standing outside Nathaniel’s hospital room. Agent Randall is sending me his dark looks from across the ha
ll, warning me to stay back. I spin on the spot. Laura Barnes is outside the door, her dress as white as her smile. “He was always mine,” she says, then opens the door. The hospital room is gone and she walks down an aisle of rose petals, straight towards the altar, straight towards Nathaniel. I clutch my belly, holding onto the very last piece of him.
It’s before sunrise when I feel a tap on my arm, and Nathaniel whispers, “Wake up.”
“Huh?” I blink a few times and squint against the backlight of his phone, Nathaniel’s face a multitude of shadow and light. “Do you ever sleep?”
“I already have.” His smile relaxes. “And I’ve finished the code.”
“Thank god.” That code…
He clicks on the bedside lamp and stands, cutting a handsome figure in his charcoal grey suit, which I want to strip from him immediately—the pocket-watch can stay, the vest, too. “Are you mocking the code, Miss Lockhart?”
“Um, no, not exactly.” Although, mocking the code would be rather fun. “I was thinking that you might have time for other things…”
I expect him to make some advance, maybe slip under the covers, seduce me in any number of ways. Instead, he passes me my dressing gown. “If my lady doesn’t mind, I require her presence this very minute. We have a date to attend.”
“We do?”
“You might want to bring your purse,” he says, dropping my bag into my lap.
The list! I’m out of bed and slipping into the satin gown so fast that I beat Nathaniel out into the hallway.
I stop. I have no idea where I’m going, but I don’t have to wait long. Nathaniel’s hand slips into mine, leading me towards his study. As I’m led around the desk and through his bedroom door, he smiles back at me. I wonder if he’s about to stage a re-enactment of the previous morning—Idea 2.0. A painting with warped pocket watches highlights a navy feature wall at the far end, Nathaniel’s bed set majestically below it. I look at his bed wistfully, and he shakes his head.
The room is twice as grand as the guest rooms, dark timber beams and floorboards. Brass gadgets and trinkets shine from the shelves placed here and there, giving the room an old-world charm. The left side is all glass doors and window frames. Between the two balconies, a writing desk is littered with sketch after sketch—landscapes, a forest with the right bottom corner missing, a star exploding.
Nathaniel leads me past his bed and out onto the second balcony, wrapping a blanket around us, warming me from the chill. The faint glow of dawn peers through the trees, and when I peer up the last few stars glimmer in the sky. Everything is so quiet up here—even Nathaniel, who is staring out into the shadowy outlines of the forest. It’s a breathtaking sight, but not as breathtaking as this moment in Nathaniel’s arms.
I dare a glance at him, sure that I’m over-romanticizing everything. Okay, I am, because he smiles fleetingly. His eyes are too pensive. I’m probably holding his waist too tightly, but it’s cold—and honestly, I don’t want to let him go.
“Evangeline,” he says.
“Hm?”
“Marry me?”
I blink up at him several times, sure that I’ve misheard. This is Nathaniel, Nathaniel who never wants to get married.
Nathaniel who created a hotline to find me.
I can barely catch my breath, readying myself to say that one word which will change my life forever. I could scream as he holds up his hand, halting my answer. But as he drops to one knee, I am completely under his spell. His brown eyes are warm and searching, as if he’s putting his life in my hands. “Do you know that one of the reasons I returned to New York last week was because I had something locked up in my safe? It had been there for years, waiting aimlessly.” He laughs quietly. “I’d always thought it would sit there gathering dust, but my grandfather was a wiser man than me. He’d insisted that I take it, that despite my emphatic claims that I would never marry or want children there might come a time when I’d change my mind. I never believed him. I just took it to grant a dying man’s last wish. But I fell in love with you, Evangeline. Now, suddenly, I want all of those things, to spend my life with you, to give you those children you were willing to give up for me.”
My stomach clenches.
“You do?” I finally ask.
“I do.” Nathaniel smiles as he picks up my hand and retrieves something from his vest pocket. At first, I think it’s his pocket watch, but then a diamond catches the light. The ring is rose gold, a simple diamond set between two delicately curved leaves inlaid with diamond chips, leaves very similar to the angel wings around my neck.
“If you’d prefer a new ring that’s just yours, maybe one larger—”
“No,” I say quickly.
His smile falls, misinterpreting my answer, an answer I’m still deciding on.
“No, the ring is beautiful,” I say.
He looks doubtful, but lifts the ring to my hand. “My grandmother wore this for over forty-years. I thought it might be good luck.”
Okay, that’s a little scary. A ring this special… What if I lose it? What if he changes his mind?
“Is that a yes?” he asks, studying me.
I drop to my knees, and whisper what’s in my heart, “Yes.”
For a second his smile is dazzling and then he is kissing me, his hand sweeping across the back of my neck as he deepens the kiss. When he pulls back, he takes my left hand. His fingers waver slightly as he slips the ring over my finger and shifts the diamond into place, staring at it a moment longer.
I am staring, too. At him.
I’m engaged to Nathaniel.
“You look a little stunned, angel,” he says.
I shrug weakly. “I would never have thought you’d want this. And so fast.”
He laughs, pushing hair behind his ear. “Honestly, this is faster than I’d anticipated, but thanks to Aaron I had to speed up the process. I wasn’t intending to propose until at least after the dinner we’d arranged—preferably a month or two after that.”
“Oh.” This is not good.
“Eve?” he says, drawing my attention away from the last of the sunrise. He shifts back and leans against the window, pulling me with him. As he collects me in his arms, my body drapes over his. “I don’t have any regrets, if that’s what you’re thinking, but maybe now is a good time to open your purse.”
The moment has come.
I retrieve the wish list from my purse, my fingers buzzing as I unfold the shortened list. Then I remember why it was shortened. My heart sinks at the thought of Aaron’s proposal, then floats once more as I read Nathaniel’s amendment:
5. Never get married. Never have children.
Marry me, angel. Please?
I gently refold the list and tuck it back in my purse. It is the saddest and most beautiful piece of paper I’ve ever had in my possession.
“I never wrote that on a whim, Evangeline. But proposing on that list was never what I’d intended either. I couldn’t have you reading Aaron’s proposal without seeing mine. It’s also why I brought you here.” He waves his hand over the garden touched with morning light. “This is how I imagined it—surprising you at dawn.”
Welcome to the family
I wake and twist in the sheets, reaching out for Nathaniel. His side of the bed is empty. Daylight bleeds around the curtains, and I glance at the clock. 11:15am! Dress rehearsals start in less than two hours, and I’m an hour away from the city!
In total panic mode, I run to the bathroom, showering and dressing in ten minutes flat. I feel a little queasy at the stress of tonight’s performance—and the lingering doubt that this engagement might have endangered Nathaniel. I try not to think on it as I dash down to the main kitchen in search of Aaron and coffee. But as I approach the archway leading to the main kitchen, I fiddle with Nathaniel’s ring. This is a big moment. I don’t need to say a thing about the engagement, the ring will do that for me.
If only Mum and Dad were here. They should have been the first ones to know, to congratulate Nathani
el and me. Instead, I have a group of agents.
Voices come from the kitchen. It sounds like a dinner party in there. I peek around the archway. Everyone is at the table enjoying an early lunch, but the conversation is far from pleasant.
“So that’s why you never showed Nate the letter you got,” Viv says to Aaron.
“What letter?” Nathaniel asks. “Aaron?”
Aaron looks positively furious.
Viv ignores him and turns to Nathaniel. “Laura sent him a letter a few days ago.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me? That’s what I’m paying you for, Viv, to keep me informed.”
Viv pales. I don’t think she was expecting a reprimand. Nathaniel is being particularly harsh. Although, I can’t believe Aaron received a letter and said nothing when I’m made to disclose all of Laura’s mail.
“She wanted to, Nate,” Aaron says. “I told her not to.”
“And why would you do that?” asks Nathaniel.
“You won’t like it.”
“Clearly, I won’t like it,” Nathaniel spits out. “When has Laura written anything uplifting? Now, tell me about the letter.”
Aaron shakes his head.
That’s when Nathaniel’s gaze shifts to Viv. Even I can feel the pressure that she must be under. “Viv? Last chance.”
Last chance? Is he going to fire her? But then again, what else can he do? Informing him about threats is her job, and she’s chosen to protect Aaron instead. As she’s debating whether to speak, she spies me in the archway. She shakes her head, telling me to stay back.
I nod and step back into the shadows.
Viv sighs. “The general gist of the letter… Laura said that Aaron is now responsible for Eve abiding by her contract, and that he should do everything he could to make that happen.”
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