Chapter3
1158 Words
Nathan's Pov
The light was too bright.
I shut my eyes again. The room kept tilting a little even with them closed. I remember going to the bar last night to ease my frustration. My mother Patricia, had made an alliance with Morgan's tech through marriage. That meant, I had to marry one of his daughters, Jessica. I wasn't happy but I couldn't refuse either.
I forced my eyes open and turned my head, which made everything tilt worse. She was still there. I thought I was hallucinating from the effect of the alcohol. But apparently, I wasn't.
My brain was working in slow motion.
"What the hell." My voice came out wrecked. I sat up too fast and the room spun. I pressed my palm against my forehead. "I said, “who are you and how did you get in here?"
She turned her head and looked at me. She had green eyes. Sad in a way that told me she already knew what was about to happen.
"Olivia," she said softly.
I stared at her, trying to drag something out of last night. The courthouse. The judge. Papers. A woman who wasn't…
"What a minute. Where's Jessica," I said. Sharper now. The fog was burning off, just not fast enough.
She didn't answer. Just looked at me with those tired eyes.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed. My skull throbbed with every movement. "Jessica," I said again, louder. "Where is she?" I moved frantically around the room. “What did you do? This better not be what I think it is because if it is, you are going to regret it. I am going to ask you for the last time. WHERE IS JESSICA?”
"She isn't here," she said in a haste.
I actually looked at her properly. Brown hair. Pale. Small. Wearing some old black dress that had clearly seen better decades.
“Oh. Are you looking at my clothes? I changed into this last night after eating. Sandwich.”
"I am a joke to you? Who the hell are you! What were you doing on my bed?" I said again.
"Olivia Morgan. I'm Jessica's sister."
The room swayed and I grabbed the bedpost. My shirt was untucked, my shoes were still on, and I looked exactly as bad as I felt.
"Sister?" I said. "Her sister?" I said as my eyes widened in shock.
"Yes."
I ran a hand through my hair. My fingers wouldn't stop shaking. "What happened last night. Where's Jessica? And why is her sister here in my bed?"
She sat up slowly. Her hands in her lap, gripping her own fingers hard enough to give them another shape.
"I tried telling you," she said. "Last night. But you were too drunk. You kept calling me Jessica."
I stopped breathing for a second.
"Calling you Jessica," I repeated.
"Yes."
I stood firm
"Explain," I said. I didn't turn around. I couldn't look at her yet. "Now."
"The marriage was supposed to be Jessica's," she said. Soft. Shaky a little. "My father arranged it. But he…” she took a deep breath and continued. He said Jessica was too young to get married and that I should go instead. So they used me."
I spun around. "Used you?" I was confused by that statement.
She flinched. Just barely. But I caught it.
"My father told me if I refused he'd throw me out. I am sorry. I didn't have a choice. Please.” Her eyes softened. “Forgive me, please.”
She dropped to her knees fidgeting.
"You expect me to believe that." I laughed and it came out hollow. "You didn't see a rich husband sitting there for the taking?"
"I don't want your money," she said. "I don't want any of this."
"Then why'd you do it."
"Because I didn't have a choice. Don't you see it?"
“Hmmm. Truly, what is there to see?” I gave her a disgusting look.
I crossed the room toward her. Every step made my headache worse. I stopped right in front of her. She looked up. Didn't flinch this time. Didn't look away either.
"You could've said no. Walked out. Done literally, anything else."
She shook her head slow. "You don't know my father."
"Your father," I said. "Richard Morgan."
"Yes."
I turned and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. I scrolled to his contact and called.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing.
I tried again. Nothing.
"He's not picking up." The words came out through my teeth. I was gripping the phone so hard my knuckles could scream for help. "Shocking."
"I don't know where he is," Olivia said.
I threw the phone onto the bed. It bounced once, landed face down. "This is insane. I never agreed to this. None of this. You and your father played me. You guys played all of us.” I said firmly through my teeth while pointing at her.
"The marriage is legal," she said quietly. "We signed papers. A judge witnessed it."
"Because I was drunk!" My voice came out way too loud, bouncing off the walls. "Someone shoved papers in front of me and I signed them! That's not consent! If I was stable, I would not have married you. Let alone bring you home!”
She didn't say anything to that.
"Your father did this," I said, pacing now, back and forth. The walls felt like they were closing in a little. "He set the whole thing up. Drunk man, marriage certificate, and…" I stopped and looked at her. "He gave me you."
"Yes."
"Because Jessica was too young."
"Yes."
"And you're not."
"Apparently not."
I sat down heavy on the edge of the bed. I put my head in my hands. Everything was shaking. My hands, my legs, all of it.
"This is a nightmare," I said. "An actual nightmare."
"Someone had to marry you," Olivia said. So quietly. I almost missed it. "My father needed the merger. He needed the money from it. So he found someone else to hand over. He found me."
I looked at her through my fingers. "You're really saying you had no choice in this."
"I'm saying, I had no good choices. I could've said no and he'd have thrown me out. No friends. No money. Nothing waiting for me anywhere to fall to."
"So you chose this."
"I chose to survive."
I stared at her. The sadness was still there in her face but something else had crept in underneath it. A bit of fight. Small, but there.
"You're telling me you're a victim," I said.
"I'm not telling you anything," she said. "You asked. I answered. Believe whatever you want."
I opened my mouth to say something cruel back. Something
to make her feel even a fraction of what I was feeling.
My phone buzzed before I could.
Unknown number. A video attached.
I clicked it.
- Writer
