The Wife
Author: Poetrysoulchild / Angie Simone
Fandom: Guiding Light (Otalia)
So this is my first Fanfiction, though I've become extremely addicted to the Fanfiction subculture within these past year. I'm excited to get back to writing and creating this story about one of my favorite couples on TV, Otalia.
Disclaimers: I do not own any of these characters. Though I have taken some lines from the original show, it is only to keep the integrity of some of the scenes and characters. In these cases, I again do not own the material.
*This is my take on events following the wedding had Natalia actually married Frank specifically told in first person via Natalia. Although I vehemently despise Frank's character, I thought it would be interesting to fantasize about the alternate reality had CBS producers and Guiding Light writers not immediately commit to the love story between Natalia and Olivia. In my version, however, Frank doesn't spill the beans (during pre-marriage counseling with Father Ray) about Olivia being the mastermind of all the romantic gestures he pulled for Natalia. He kept that little secret to himself…for now =)
I hope you all enjoy! Side Note: It takes a bit of time before Olivia and Frank show up in the story. I'm taking my time to fill in the gaps of Natalia's life so you get a more in depth perspective of her later choices.
Rating: First round is PG-13
The Wife
Angie Simone
Copyright October 30, 2014
"Love takes off the masks we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within."
~ James Baldwin
Prelude
Someone once asked if there were no societal pressure, who would we really be? Would we be able to recognize ourselves or would we only then begin to find ourselves? Would we be more willing to allow our desires go undeterred or bask in the simplicity of our lives? Would it only be then, when we could conceive our true happiness or would it be the moment when we realize the weight of all our turmoil?
I never used to think about my life in such ways until now. Since fifteen, my journey has been buried with decisions simply based on how others would perceive me. From the moment I became a pregnant teen, to the instant I dropped all that I knew to flee to Springfield, I fell on the mercy of other's perceptions about my life. Whether it was my family, church, or friends, I have always allowed others to dictate who I presented myself to be without ever really knowing who I truly was. Only now, after reflecting on the awful decisions I've made – particularly in the past six months – have I obtained some sort of knowledge of who I am…more so of who I've become. I feel since, I have somehow forfeited my right to tell you my truth for having hurt so many in the process, yet the need to tell my untold story is most evident. So here it is. I am Natalia Rivera, and here's my truth of how I went from widow, to wife, to adulterer. But first let me begin my confessions with when I was a child.
CHAPTER ONE: A TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE
Chicago 1991. It was the year that I lost my family and the year my whole world changed. I was fifteen, stupid, naïve and very much pregnant. Sometimes when I look back to that time, I can't help but to laugh. Granted, teen pregnancy is not the ideal way to spend your youth years, but I laugh at how much I let circumstances change my life. Laugh at that doting teenager who allowed so many things to dictate how my life turned out. Sometimes I even laugh at how my life would've…could've been.
1991 was also the year I thought I fell in love – operative word being thought. Back then I was this little pimple-faced girl, with poofy untamed hair and enough metal in my mouth to create ample current to light up all of Chicago. My communication skills were minimal at best and the only things I cared for were my grades and family. So when this handsome young boy somehow took interest in me, you can say I responded swiftly, trying to reciprocate everything I thought he was giving. I wanted so much to keep this young boy's attention - to keep him wanting me because I felt that I needed him. Felt like I finally found someone who could make me feel like I was important.
And as you all know, this boy's name was Nicholas Augustino, also known as Nicky.
Now don't get me wrong. Nicky was one of the sweetest people that I've ever come across. But if the relationship had played its course through high school, I'm certain that we would have separated as we went our different ways to college. I knew he wanted to be in the police force, like his dad, and I wanted to move as far away from Chicago as I could. I wanted to maybe study abroad. Maybe somewhere like South America, to gain life experience before coming back and becoming a social worker. We both had two vastly different plans for our lives and it seemed like the natural course of our relationship would have been for our love to fade over time anyways.
But that was neither here nor there. It just took one moment of teen angst to leave me alone in a desolate bathroom staring at a proof positive pregnancy test. Wishing and praying that this was just some sort of twisted Catholic guilt dream for spending too much time with Nicky.
Though, as the minutes past, it was becoming clear that this wasn't a dream. I had been sitting on the toilet in disbelief, wondering how I got myself into this mess. Reevaluating every moment with Nicky. Now wishing that I didn't need him so much. Wishing that I hadn't caved into the pressure of being intimate with him.
More time passed and life quickly seemed to start crumbling before me. Breaths became harder to catch. Tears were uncontrollable and began falling aimlessly towards the ground. The trembling that my body was experiencing was no longer foreign to me. Thoughts of my once bright future were dwindling down to unattainable dreams. I was simply screwed beyond recognition and didn't quite know how to get myself out of this.
For a brief moment, I did let my thoughts contemplate an abortion despite the fact that everything in me was against the idea. However, those feelings of doubt had nothing to do with my religion. Yes, my mother and father had their devout beliefs but I had my own reserved feelings about Catholicism at the time. I was at a place in my life where I wanted to question everything about my worshiping practices. But besides my feelings, it felt like I had no other options. I couldn't, nor did I have a desire to keep this baby. I desperately didn't want anything in my realm to become different, so I strategized and compromised. I came up with ideas of how I could get the money, tell Nicky, abort this pregnancy and keep everything a secret from my parents. I was going to go through with it. I made a plan for it. My life was suddenly coming back together with this abortion being the cure for everything.
That was until, my mother walked in through the bathroom door…
To be continued