Chapter 143

Olivia

The entrance of Nathan was a staggering shadow that barely resembled the resolute figure I had grown accustomed to.

“Nathan?” I asked, my eyes widening as I took in his haggard appearance. “What happened?”

For a few moments, Nathan just stood there, wavering in the doorway. It was then that I saw him try to take a step forward, and his knees began to buckle beneath him.

His steps faltered, his usually clear and attentive blue-green eyes now distant and unfocused. A cloud of alarm settled over me, prompting my feet to move even before my mind fully processed the scene.

I caught him just as he was about to collapse. The reality of his weight against me was a stark reminder of his vulnerability.

“Nathan!” My voice broke through my worry. “Where have you been? What happened?”

He tried to speak, his lips moving to form words, but all that escaped was a hoarse whisper, nearly inaudible amidst his labored breathing.

“I’ve just… Been…”

His strength was rapidly ebbing away, leaving me to bear his full weight. Sighing, I wrapped my arm around his waist and began guiding him with gentle determination to his bedroom before he could fully collapse and succumb to sleep.

“Come on,” I said, straining to walk beneath his weight as his scent of grapefruit overwhelmed me. “Let’s get you to bed.”

It took a while, but we finally made it up the stairs. Once we reached his bed, I carefully lowered him onto it.

“Here,” I said gently, helping him to lift his legs onto the bed as he laid down. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, laying his head back on his pillow with a groan. “Thanks, Olivia.”

“Don’t sweat it.” I furrowed my brow as I looked down at him, checking him over. He didn’t seem to have any injuries or anything of the sort; he was just exhausted. Completely and utterly exhausted, although I couldn’t understand why.

“What happened, Nathan?” I asked. “Where have you been? I was about to go to the police and report you missing.”

Slowly, Nathan shook his head. His eyes were already shut. “I’m too tired,” he murmured, stifling a yawn. “Don’t… Worry…”

The familiar surroundings seemed to offer him a modicum of comfort, because his voice faltered. Within minutes, his chest was already rising and falling in deep, rhythmic breaths, the pallor of exhaustion evident on his face.

I let out a soft sigh as I looked down at him. “Already asleep?” I whispered, my brow still furrowed. There was no answer, of course. Not even a hint that he had heard me. He was sound asleep.

As I gently removed his shoes, my thoughts were a tangled web of concern and curiosity. How had he reached such a state of fatigue? What had he seen or experienced that had so thoroughly drained him?

Whatever it was, I was at least grateful that he was home now. He was safe. Maybe, I thought to myself, he was out drinking. But he didn’t smell like booze. He was disheveled, but not as though he had been staring at the bottom of a bottle for the past twenty-four hours.

No, this was something else. He was up to something; I knew Nathan. I knew, at least to a certain extent, how his mind worked. He never would have just upped and gone like that if he hadn’t had some sort of revelation about something that needed immediate attention.

But… what was it?

Carefully, I tugged off his shoes. I then placed a throw blanket over him, and chewed my lip for a moment as I looked upon his sleeping form before I began to turn to head back to the door.

It was then that I noticed it—a worn, folded piece of paper peeking out from the pocket of his jacket. My heart hesitated for a beat.

The urge to know warred with the ethics of privacy. But given Nathan’s condition and the evident secrets lurking behind his tired eyes, I decided to satisfy my curiosity.

I carefully retrieved the paper, unfolding it to reveal delicate, flowing handwriting. The elegant script was unmistakably that of Nathan's mother. I began to read:

My dearest Nathan,

This letter might be one of the hardest things I've ever had to write. I've longed to shield you from the murky truths of our family, but I fear that time is not on our side.

I never truly loved your father. Our marriage was a product of political strategy, an alliance sealed for the benefit of our families and the power they wielded.

I had hoped that, with time, affection might bloom, but alas, it was not to be. Instead, the facade we've maintained has started to crack, revealing the threats that lurk beneath.

Maybe you knew that already, though. I suppose now, looking back, that I never put on the best show around you… And I’m truly sorry for that. Just know that, while I never loved your father, I always loved you. You are my pride and joy.

But I fear for my safety, Nathan, and possibly yours. I fear for Olivia, too, although I must admit that I didn’t trust her for a long time. Again, for that, I’m sorry.

Our family's power is waning, and there are those who seek to exploit our vulnerabilities. Be cautious and trust sparingly.

Always remember, no matter the truths or lies, my love for you has never wavered. Keep safe, my son.

Love always,

Mother

The weight of her words pressed down on me, each sentence a revelation that reshaped my understanding of Nathan's world.

My thoughts swirled back to the odd encounter I had witnessed between Colin and Jen. Were they privy to this secret? Was their hushed conversation connected to the cracks in Nathan’s family's political alliance?

It had to be. I was sure of it; Maria’s frantic voicemail alone was a testament to that.

I stared down at the letter, feeling its edges crumple slightly under my grip. I wanted to scream, to wake Nathan up and demand answers, to share the weight of this knowledge.

But looking at him, so spent and vulnerable, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet.

With a heavy heart, I refolded the letter and tucked it back into his pocket, ensuring it sat just as I found it. This secret, this piece of a complex puzzle, would stay with me for now. Nathan deserved his rest.

I brushed a stray hair off his forehead, the gesture tender and maternal. The baby I was carrying stirred within me, a gentle reminder of the new life and responsibility that lay ahead.

Resolved, I made a silent promise to both Nathan and my unborn child. I would find out what was going on. I would dig deeper, piecing together the secrets that were threatening their safety.

Nathan might have wanted to protect me by keeping me out of it, but the stakes were too high now. I knew now that this was connected to my father. Maria had all but said so herself in her letter when she said that my safety was at risk. She probably knew things about my father, about our untimely and baseless eviction, that would have changed everything.

Quietly, I slipped out of the room with the determination in my heart to get to the bottom of all of this for once and for all.

And maybe, just maybe, I could find answers to both mysteries while I was at it.