Chapter 7: O Fortune, Fortune

7 | O Fortune, Fortune

A storm was coming. Raindrops were racing with one another down the windowpane as George Nolan stared out into the soaked garden of his huge estate. Not long before, the gardeners were rushing to gather their supplies and take cover from the sudden downpour, unknowingly providing momentary amusement to their master who was watching them from his office window.

He was a quiet man, Sir George. In fact, none of the staff ever recall hearing him laugh in their presence. His expression often devoid of emotion, but his actions and words spoke of great intelligence and power. He doesn't approve of many things and many people, often keeping them all at an arm's length. Those who anger him receive the iciest remarks and, if needed, a strong fist. Those he loves were only a handful but received his time and surprising patience.

His quiet mirth faded as sullen thoughts once again occupied his mind. It was that day of the year again, and the pain was still as fresh as before. His eyes caught sight of a stream of water making its way down the glass, and memories came rushing to the forefront of his mind. His straight lips turned down into a frown.

Storms, for him, have forever been tainted with blood. The clear rainwater corrupted by its redness. His eyes closed, and he felt like he had gone back to that exact moment. He can feel the rough pavement scratching the back of his hands and the knees of his trousers, the harsh raindrops falling like pins on the back of his neck, and a bitter cry escaping his dry lips as his lungs threatened to burst in agony.

Memories, bad memories, never fade. And it only took one quiet moment, one short second of remembering, for everything to come back and haunt him.

A knock on the door startled him out of his reverie and made him turn around to face the newcomer. The open door revealed Anna, the maid, on the other side, pushing a serving trolley quietly into the room. George didn't have to check to know that she had brought him his favorite tea. He spared a quick glance at the door. Sure enough, his wife was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Thought you might like some tea. It's getting quite chilly outside," Ruth told him as Anna prepared the cup. George never liked the cold.

The sides of his lips quirked upward but the almost smile quickly disappeared. "You always know what to do. Thank you, dear." The latter was directed to Anna who had handed him the cup. The maid gave him a shy nod after he had received it before turning to leave. Ruth gave her a small smile on her way out before walking forward to sit on one of the chairs in front of her husband's table.

George had begun sorting through the paperwork he had left earlier. "Are David and Emma coming home soon? We're supposed to be having dinner tonight, aren't we? Frederick mentioned that his fiancée might come over to discuss their wedding plans."

"That's tomorrow, dear," Ruth reminded him with a soft tone, watching him move.

When he didn't reply, she continued lightly. "To be honest, that young woman has told us about her changing plans so many times that I'm beginning to grow quite tired of listening to her. Such a fickle-minded woman." His eyes glanced up momentarily to see the solemn look that had dawned on her face. "I can only hope David finds someone who's strong-willed. Passionate. Intelligent."

He sipped his tea. "Women like that are hard to find."

"Hard, but not impossible," she replied as she leaned back on her seat. He can only nod as he continued to muse about something insignificant on a page, hoping she would grow tired of talking to someone who looked busy. He could feel her eyes studying him before she continued to say, "Something the matter with work, George? It's not like you to mix up your schedule."

There was that quiet but knowing tone in her voice that he chose to ignore. "No," he told her, glancing up for a moment. "I just have a lot on my mind lately, but it's nothing to worry about."

Her eyes stayed on him for a few more seconds before moving towards the calendar sitting innocently on the edge of his table. He noticed the shift in her demeanor as the significance of the date settled in. No one said anything for a while, leaving the silence uncomfortable and stifling on his end.

"All right," she murmured. "I'll leave you to your thoughts then."

George released a sigh when she got up to leave. "Ruth."

"You don't have to say anything, George," she quickly answered. "I understand. I do. I've told you that a hundred times."

When he didn't say anything, she changed the topic of conversation, irking him. "I have to go get dinner ready. It's just the two of us for tonight. David said that he'll be out late with Killian, and Emma's taking the night shift again. Frederick might arrive home soon, but I think we can start without him."

There was a tightness in his voice as he said, "Stop doing that."

She paused. "Doing what?"

"Not saying that you want to say, pretending that the date doesn't affect you," he snapped. "You're acting like a martyr again, and it's getting really tiring to look at."

Disbelief that evident in her expression before a mask of forced calmness overtook it. It took a long moment for her to say, "Okay."

He stood up. "Ruth. If you're mad at me, be mad."

She kept her voice leveled. "Getting angry won't change anything."

"Well. At least, I know what the hell is going on inside your head."

"Ha. You wouldn't like it."

His expression turned dangerous. "I've mentioned this before. If you're unhappy, unhappy with me, unhappy in this house, you can always leave. You can walk out that door, and I will understand."

"Because that's what you've wanted since the beginning, isn't it? Me out of the picture."

"I did not say that."

"You didn't have to!" she replied angrily. "Don't think that the reason why I'm still here is because I think that this marriage is still worth saving because I've given up on us a long time ago."

"Why are you still here, then? For the money?" he asked icily.

Hurt momentarily flashed on her face at the accusation. "If I leave, if I don't keep this fucking marriage intact, what will my children think of me? Tell me, George, what do I say to them? What possible reason do I have to leave you? Tell me!" she challenged, searching his eyes. He can only stare back at her coldly.

"That's what I thought," she continued. "And do you really think that I'd let them grow up in a broken family? That I'd let them see the shell of a man you've become since then? I'd rather be unhappy in my marriage than let my children see that their father is nothing but a liar and a coward."

"You're talking as if David and Emma are little kids!" George shot back, enraged. "They're adults, Ruth. They can handle their parents splitting up, for Christ's sake!"

Ruth's nostrils flared. "Let me ask you something then. Why haven't you filed for divorce? After everything we've been through, why haven't you?" she challenged him again. "It's because you're afraid to. You're afraid of being alone. You're afraid because you know that if I leave, David and Emma will start asking questions. And when they find out about the truth, they will be walking out that door with me."

Anger surged inside his chest at the self-righteous look on her face. He was about to argue when he caught sight of a staff member peeking through the open door curiously before backtracking when their eyes met. Ruth turned her head just in time to see what he had seen. No one moved for a few seconds until he murmured, slightly defeated, "You can go ahead and eat without me. I'm not hungry."

There were a few moments of silence before she fully turned towards the door and walked out. He can only close his eyes tiredly when the door slammed shut at the force of her hand.

Jazz music was floating softly from the stereo speakers as the friends who were gathered around the dinner table erupted with laughter. Their main course had long since been consumed, and their dessert plates were only waiting to be cleared. They were enjoying a bottle of fine wine from Robert's collection as they shared some hilarious stories from their pasts. It was Killian's turn. Belle was already wiping tears from her eyes as her husband laughed heartily. David was shaking his head with a big smile on his face, having heard the story before but still greatly amused by it.

Killian continued with his narrative. "I went to the bathroom the next day, and my reflection on the mirror showed one eyebrow. One bloody eyebrow! That day was my graduation day, for Christ's sake. Liam couldn't look me in the eye for days."

Robert let out the remnants of his laughter before asking him, "How is that little brother of yours? Still causing mayhem in New York City I presume?"

"Believe it or not, he's graduating in the fall. That little bugger," Killian answered the older man, looking proud nonetheless. "He's coming back to Storybrooke to help me run the fishery after he finishes school. After Dad retires, I'm going to need all the help I can get."

He paused for a moment. "Although… I'm pretty sure he mentioned something about bringing a girl back home with him."

Belle immediately replied with cheek. "If he does, I think you better step up your game with Emma, Killian. You wouldn't want your little brother getting hitched before you do now, don't you?"

David was taking a rather large sip of his wine at that moment and immediately choked in response, making his best friend laugh loudly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, David. Here." Belle handed him a couple of napkins sheepishly.

Killian answered her question. "As you can see, Dave here doesn't exactly approve." The couple chuckled. "And honestly, I haven't thought about marriage seriously yet. I don't want to scare off Emma too soon. I happen to like her company a lot more than this one right here."

A sly smirk appeared on his lips as he watched David wipe the wine off of his chin. "Speaking of older siblings marrying first, Nolan! How about you? Any plans of settling down anytime soon?"

David gave him a murderous look. A response Robert found incredibly interesting. "No."

"No plans? Handsome fellow such as yourself."

"I will end you."

Killian didn't seem fazed by the statement since he just grinned before leaning back on his seat. "Fair enough. Who's next in storytelling?"

The house phone suddenly rang from the other room, making Belle excuse herself hastily. Robert was about to tell her that the staff will take care of it, but she had already fled the room.

"Speaking of phone calls," Killian mused, feeling his pockets for his phone. "I better check up on how Emma's doing. Humbert gave her the night shift again. Jesus. As if the first one wasn't enough. Excuse me."

David felt a sinking feeling inside his stomach at the thought of spending time alone with Robert, but his useless mind cannot think of an excuse to distance himself from his present company. He knew for certain that the older man caught his exchange with Killian. As a keen observer, he was bound to ask some serious questions David had no intention of answering. He started to play with his dessert fork to distract himself from the weight of Robert's stare. Then the latter proceeded to ask the dreaded question.

"So, tell me. Do you have plans on settling down soon, David?"

He hesitated. "No. Not really."

Robert remained unfazed, as if expecting that response.

Awkward silence ensued.

"So, how did you two meet?"

David bit the inside of his cheek painfully. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Don't play coy," the older man chided almost playfully. "I saw you with her at the party. You two were dancing way too close to be mere acquaintances. You're lucky your father didn't see you. Mary Margaret was not as fortunate."

He had to hold back a frustrated groan. When he still didn't answer the older man's question, Robert quietly added, "These violent passions can have violent ends. Have you heard of that line before?"

David replied easily. "Romeo and Juliet."

Robert nodded. "Something to think about."

He suddenly felt irritation bubble up inside his chest at his display of nonchalance. "You're acting as if you firmly believe that my relationship is doomed to end up a tragic love story," he bit back frostily. "What Mary Margaret and I have is not some whirlwind romance between two teenagers, Robert. We know what we've gotten ourselves into, and I will fight for her if I have to. Isn't that enough?"

Robert's expression turned very serious. "I understand how much you love her, David, but you also have to understand that your parents…"

"Have no say on who I'm supposed to love," David finished for him. "That's my choice."

The older man leaned back on his seat in defeat. "I know, son. I know." He paused, gathering his jumbled thoughts into a coherent sentence. "But you see, love is a dangerous game. It makes people do crazy things."

David was quiet at that.

"I just hope," he continued quietly. "That this time around, there will be a happy ending."

Before David can ask what he meant, he shook his head, "Besides, what I said… it's just something to think about."

The conflicting emotions on Robert's expression intrigued him. Before he can ask about it further, Killian was suddenly back in the room with a smile on his face.

"Talked to Emma. She's fine. She's on her way home as we speak," he reported, sitting down on his chair. "What did I miss?"

"We were just talking about how David here met Mary Margaret," Robert answered without missing a beat. Killian's eyes widened in surprise, and David had to keep himself from banging his head on the table. "And I apologize for saying this, Killian, but I'd rather hear this one than your eyebrow story any day."

A few months ago

The temperature was dropping by the minute as David hurriedly made his way down the street towards his Boston apartment that late December. For the first time, his business trip itinerary didn't include bringing home a woman on his last night. He decided that he will be catching the last bus back to Maine instead of waiting for the next day to come.

But there still was a piece of paper inside his pocket containing the number of the woman he was talking to earlier back at the bar. He was contemplating whether he will be calling her when he got back to his apartment. The opposition was winning since he still had to pack his things to catch the bus on time.

Frankly, a part of him just didn't feel like it was the right thing to do. Odd, given that he never felt that way before. Killian would probably have his head when he finds out about the sudden turn of events. His best friend lived to hear the tales of his business trip shenanigans. Seemed like he will be going home empty-handed.

The trip, as usual, was arranged by his father for him to meet up with potential clients and schmooze his way into their deep pockets. Meetings with rich people can go tediously long, that's why he always made sure to allot some down time with his college friends at their favorite bar. That usually meant going home with a woman under his arm. Late nights in Boston were certainly more interesting than they were in Maine.

David almost didn't see it happen if it weren't for the loud thud of a body hitting something. There was a scuffle happening in an alley between the two buildings that he was passing by. It almost looked like a scene from an action movie, where two silhouettes were going at it with smoke coming up behind them.

He stood there, transfixed, before he realized that one of the figures was a woman. His protective instincts suddenly kicked in, and adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"Hey!" he called out, running towards them and attracting the attention of the man.

Everything that happened afterwards seemed like they went in slow motion. The man was momentarily caught off-guard and gave the woman just enough time to throw a powerful punch to his temple, knocking him out cold. He spun slightly before he fell painfully onto the wet pavement. By then, David got close enough to take a good look at both. The man was wearing all-black clothing. The woman was breathing hard, looking as though she would pass out soon.

"Are you okay?" David asked her in concern.

"I will be. Just give me a minute," she wheezed out, placing a hand on her forehead.

He noticed that the dress she was wearing had been ripped at the sides and was way too thin to be providing her warmth in the freezing weather. He immediately took off his outer coat and placed it over her shoulders.

"Thank you," she told him, looking touched. Suddenly, she began to shiver as her adrenaline rush began to wear off. "Who are you?"

"The name's David," he answered her. He was close enough to notice her red-rimmed eyes and red nose. She looked like she had been crying before their meeting.

"I was walking home when I saw you. I thought you needed some help, but clearly…" he glanced down at the fallen man. "You can throw quite a punch."

A shy smile appeared at his compliment, a reaction he didn't expect from the fierce woman he had seen earlier. The gash near her hairline was starting to bleed, and her shivers were intensifying the longer they stood there.

"Look," he added, rubbing her arms unconsciously. "My apartment's not far from here. You can take a shower there, and I can patch you up if you'd like."

A worried look crossed her face, and he caught it before it disappeared. He gave her a comforting smile. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you. I'd be crazy to after seeing what you're capable of."

At that, she let out a laugh to which he fully smiled. "Come on. Let's get out of here before he wakes up."

Funny how David had already planned on not having visitors for the night, and yet there was still a woman currently occupying his bathroom as he changed out of his work clothes. He had just finished changing into a warm pair of sweatpants and a shirt when he balanced his phone on his ear with his shoulder. The shower inside the bathroom had started the run the moment his worried mother picked up the phone.

"Just a minor setback, Mom. Nothing to worry about. I'll be able to catch the first bus back to Maine tomorrow morning." He opened his sock drawer to get a fresh pair. "I think I'll be able to make it. No, it's not work related. Everything's fine. No need to send Jacob over. Yes, I'm fine, Mom. Jesus. Okay, I'm sorry. Yes. I love you, too. Bye."

After hanging up the phone, he laid out some clothes that no longer fit him on his bed for her. He then walked out of his bedroom and went straight into the kitchen where Vivian, the housekeeper, was busy preparing the hot cocoa he had requested. The first aid kit was waiting for him on the counter.

"Will she be all right, Sir David?" she asked worriedly, watching him go through the contents of the kit. "She looked quite pale when you two arrived. Where is she now?"

"She's going to be fine, Vivian. Don't worry about it. She's in the shower right now," he assured her with a smile.

The housekeeper nodded but still looked unsatisfied with his answer. It wasn't long before there were two steaming mugs of hot chocolate with cinnamon in front of him.

"Thanks, Vivian, I'll call for you if ever we need anything else. Go get some rest." She gave him a motherly smile before telling him to have a good night and retiring to her bedroom.

After a few minutes, his bedroom door opened. His mystery girl looked like she was drowning in his clothes given her small frame, but she looked fresher and cleaner than before. Her cheeks were slightly colored as she made her way towards him with a shy smile.

"I feel like I'm overstaying my welcome," she said before biting her lower lip. "Thank you for the shower and the clothes."

"You're welcome," he smiled. "Here. Vivian made us some cocoa. This'll warm you up in no time."

She got up on the barstool beside his, and he caught a whiff of his shampoo she had used on her hair. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you," she replied before taking a sip of the hot beverage. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mm. Was that cinnamon?"

"Oh," he started. "I'm sorry. I always take mine with cinnamon. Don't worry, I can fix it for you."

"No," she said, holding the mug away from his reach. "It's fine. I kind of like it. I've never tried it with cinnamon before."

A grin slowly lifted the sides of his lips when he saw her enjoying it. "I'm glad you do. It's my mother's recipe." She smiled before her eyes shifted towards the first aid kit he had in front of him. "Oh, right. I promised I'd patch you up."

"There's really no need for it," she tried to tell him. "Really, David. I think the shower took care of everything."

He shook his head, having already stood up from his barstool. "We still have to treat your cuts. Hold still." He placed a finger under her chin to keep her head still as he began to treat the gash near her hairline.

"This might sting a bit," he murmured.

She barely flinched at the contact of the antiseptic. He could feel her eyes studying him as he continued to treat her other scratches and cuts, frowning when he discovered more. No one said anything for a while.

Then she broke the silence with a teasing murmur, "Will I die, doctor?"

It took him a moment to realize it was a joke. He felt his smile erase the seriousness on his face. "No," he chuckled. "You're going to be fine."

A smile appeared on her lips. "You're being way too kind to someone you've never met before."

"It's no big deal," he murmured. "Kindness is a hard thing to come by nowadays."

She was quiet at that.

"There. I think that's all of them," he announced after a while, throwing away the used cotton before smiling at her. "Though you do have to do something for me in return."

There was a guarded look in her eyes. "There's the catch I've been waiting for," she said knowingly.

He chuckled, trying to relax her. "It's not what you think. I'm just curious as to how you got into that situation in the first place." He added after a beat. "And where you learned to punch like that."

She grinned. "Well. Since you have been so kind to me, I think you deserve to know."

He sat back down on his barstool to listen. "I was going to surprise my best friend earlier with some takeout and a couple of movies. She had been complaining that we haven't spent some time together for a while. I don't think she understands that law school takes up most of my time these days. So, I decided to surprise her at her apartment. After I had knocked on the door, I was greeted by no other than my boyfriend - well, ex at this point, I guess - who was wearing nothing but a sheet."

"Jesus."

"Typical cheating partner story. I was upset, of course," she smiled maliciously. "But I was able to act out my revenge right there and then."

He grinned. "What did you do?"

"I threw a hot bowl of soup at him."

"You didn't."

"I did." She looked both proud and sheepish. "Is that bad?"

"I think he deserved that bowl of soup."

"I thought so, too." She smiled prettily when she said that, making him realize just how beautiful she is.

He lifted his cocoa up to his lips, never taking his eyes off her. "Then what happened?"

"After that, I stormed out of the apartment. I decided not to take a cab to let off some steam. Bad idea. Apparently, the universe decided that this night was the perfect night to play more jokes on poor little Mary Margaret and sent a fucking mad man to chase me down three blocks with a knife."

His eyebrows shot up at that. "A knife?"

"Yes, he had a knife. Explains the cuts and my ruined dress. I found myself in that alley and really thought for a solid three seconds that I was going to die in the hands of a serial killer. But then…"

"Ah, my favorite part," David grinned.

She rolled her eyes but had a smile on. "The universe decided to keep me after all and sent me a guardian angel."

He smiled, hoping that he wasn't blushing. "You make it sound like I was the hero. You were the one who knocked him out."

"That's true," she mused. "Still, you were the one who distracted him."

"I guess, we make a pretty good team, then," he told her. She looked away from his eyes and blushed, making him grin. They were both quiet for a few seconds. "So, you're Mary Margaret?"

She blinked before laughing. "I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. Yes, I'm Mary Margaret. You're a good listener, David."

"I try," he smiled. "You will be staying here tonight, won't you, Mary Margaret?"

The smile on her face slowly disappeared. "Oh, no. I've already overstayed my welcome. I don't want to be too much of a burden."

"You're not a burden."

"I can take a cab home. It's really no big deal."

He shook his head. "I'll feel better if you stay. It's late. Besides, who knows what might happen to you out there on your own."

She smiled. "Trust me. I can take care of myself."

When she moved, he immediately stood in her way. "Mary Margaret."

"David."

The fierce woman he had seen earlier was back. Still, he tried to reason with her. "It's 2AM. Please stay."

Her lips pressed together into a thin line as her eyes glanced towards the clock. He could see her resolve breaking.

She let out a sigh before looking up at him. "Are you sure? I really hate to bother you."

He smiled. "I'm sure."

She nodded. "Okay, but I'm taking the couch."

He blinked. "What? No. You're the guest."

"Fine, then I'll be taking the cab."

He felt lost for a moment before shaking his head. "All right. Fine. Take the couch."

Together, they prepared her makeshift bed in the living room with linens and pillows they got from the closet. Fatigue was suddenly weighing down on him, making him clear his throat.

"Make yourself comfortable. If you need me, you know where I'll be."

She nodded with a grateful smile. He had started to make his way towards his bedroom when she suddenly spoke, "David?"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

She looked nervous as she played with her hands. "There's - uh - a New Year's Eve party happening on the 31st."

His eyebrow rose in curiosity.

"I was going to invite my boyfriend as my plus one, but clearly that's not an option anymore."

David tried to keep his smile from growing when he realized what she meant.

"And you know," she continued hastily. "It is the 21st century, and girls should be able to ask guys out without fear of being judged." Her voiced softened. "Right?"

"I agree," he said with a gentle smile.

"And I really want to make it up to you after everything you've done for me."

"You know you don't have to."

"I know," she nodded. "But I want to."

He smiled.

She bit her lower lip before adding adorably. "I hear the caterer's great."

He laughed. "You know what they say. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

She blushed. "Yeah."

"Mary Margaret, just ask me."

She had a shy smile on her face. "David, will you please accompany me to the New Year's Eve party?"

He grinned widely. "I'd love to."

She nodded, smiling fully. "Good."

"Good."

"Great."

He chuckled in amusement. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the long wait! It's been a very busy semester in college. I hope you'll leave a review by clicking the button below! x