His Unexpected Forever

Chapter Two: The Woman I Chose

Nathaniel’s POV:

The gates hissed open before I even reached them, recognizing my car by the plate. A soft voice came through the speaker from security: “Welcome back, Mr. Cole.”

The driveway curved like a quiet river under the moonlight, flanked by polished stone lions and a row of glowing solar lanterns imported from Florence. It split at the end—one path led to the east wing garage, the other to the private courtyard. I chose neither. I let the car idle in front of the grand entrance and leaned back in the seat.

The engine purred beneath me, but inside I was a storm.

The valet emerged from the archway and jogged toward me in his tailored livery, crisp and silent like a shadow. He opened my door with a practiced bow.

“Good evening, sir. Shall I have Chef prepare anything before the kitchen shuts down?”

“No. I’m not hungry.”

“Very well, sir. Your usual nightcap has been set out in the study.”

Of course it had.

Everything in this place was automatic—curated, controlled, efficient. Everything except my life.

I stepped inside the marble-floored foyer. Chandelier lighting dimmed to 40%, just how I liked it at night. Ambient music played softly overhead—Sade, I think. The scent of amber wood and vanilla from the home diffuser filled the air, subtle and warm. The silence in my chest deepened with every echoing footstep.

“Good evening, Mr. Cole,” came the voice of Mavis, our long-time housekeeper. She appeared from the hallway with her usual clipboard and flawless gray bob. “Shall I alert Mrs. Cole you’ve arrived?”

“No. Let her rest.”

“As you wish.” She bowed her head slightly and disappeared with quiet grace, just like she’d done for years.

I ascended the curved staircase slowly, running my fingers along the smooth banister. A wall of black-and-white portraits hung to my right—photos of my brothers and I over the years: Daniel in his graduation robe from Cambridge, Elijah surfing on the Gold Coast, and me… smiling, arms around my mother the year we bought our first skyscraper.

That smile didn’t exist anymore.

I paused outside the master bedroom. The double doors loomed in front of me—tall, French walnut, custom-carved in Italy. Behind them was a woman I loved but had begun to feel a million miles away from.

I pushed the door open gently.

Soft light spilled from a vintage bedside lamp. Betty lay curled under the silk duvet, her frame small beneath the massive canopy bed. Her hair was wrapped in a delicate scarf, and her skin had the soft glow of sleep. She was beautiful, even now. Especially now.

The room itself looked like a suite out of a royal hotel—hand-tufted rugs, gold-veined marble fireplace, plush seating near the balcony, and thick blackout drapes currently half-drawn. Her half of the room was still filled with traces of longing—fertility books stacked on the nightstand, an open notebook filled with symptom tracking, and a tray of untouched herbal teas our last doctor had suggested.

A small humidifier puffed out a lavender mist.

I walked over and sat gently at the edge of the bed.

She stirred but didn’t wake.

I let my eyes wander to the framed picture on her vanity—our wedding photo. Paris, six years ago. Her in a Dior gown. Me in a custom Armani tux. The Eiffel Tower behind us, all lights and magic. I remember holding her hand that day and whispering, “We’ll have everything.”

Everything except the one thing she wanted most.

My hand hovered over hers on the bed. I stopped short. I couldn’t touch her. Not tonight. Not with what I was considering.

A knock at the bedroom door snapped me back.

“Sir,” came a low voice. It was Jasper, the butler. “Your brother Elijah just called. He asked me to remind you to check your phone.”

I nodded. “Thanks, Jasper. That’ll be all.”

He left silently.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. One new message.

Elijah: You okay, Nate? Talked to Daniel again. Sorry he pushed too hard.

I didn’t reply right away. I stared at the screen until it dimmed. Then I typed:

Me: Just trying to breathe.

His response was instant.

Elijah: Don’t let the empire take your soul, brother. Whatever you do, don’t lose yourself.

That hit harder than he knew.

Betty stirred again. This time her eyes fluttered open, blurry with sleep.

“Hey,” she whispered. Her voice was groggy, sweet. “You’re home.”

“Yeah.” I smiled faintly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” She yawned, stretched a little, and sat up slowly. “I waited up… but I must’ve dozed off.”

She looked around at the bedside clock. “You stayed late. Was it the board again?”

I hesitated. “Yeah. Daniel’s still obsessed with that new Dubai project. He never runs out of pressure.”

She nodded, running her hand absently over her flat stomach. “I had a weird dream. I was holding a baby… I think it was ours.”

Her voice broke slightly at the end.

My heart clenched.

I looked away toward the fireplace. “Sounds like a beautiful dream.”

She gave me a shaky smile. “Maybe one day.”

I wanted to promise her again. Tell her we’d keep trying. But tonight, I couldn’t lie. I didn’t even trust myself anymore.

She leaned against me, resting her head on my chest. “I’m scared, Nathaniel. What if this is it? What if my body’s just… not capable?”

“Don’t,” I said softly. “You’re not broken. You’ve never been broken.”

“But I’m tired,” she whispered.

And so was I.

But I didn’t say that.

I just kissed her temple and held her until she drifted off again.

When her breathing evened, I slipped away and stepped out onto the private balcony. The view from the master suite was breathtaking—our estate stretched wide into the hills, the city blinking in the distance like it owed us everything. I’d built so much, owned so much, commanded so much… yet here I was, praying for a child like a beggar.

The wind whispered across my skin, cool and mocking.

I pulled out my phone again and opened a blank message screen.

No name. No number.

But I knew who it was meant for.

Zara Matthews… Would you consider a meeting? I may have a proposition.

I stared at the message, thumb hovering over send.

I didn’t press it yet.

Not tonight.

But the decision was already forming like a shadow at my feet.