Dealing

Part 18: Discoveries

Recaps: Honestly I don't know… Here goes my lame attempt: Natalie left Llanview to get over John and was raped. She conceived a baby from that and is now married to Michael McBain; they are raising the baby (Shane). Natalie and John have now slept together; Natalie felt guilty and tried to kill herself. She then had an encounter with Cristian and Michael who convinced her to go back because Shane needed her, and because her true soul mate was still waiting for her. She then told John it was their fault Michael had died, and in true John form he placed the blame solely on himself.

It had been three months since Natalie had lost her husband and almost her life. She and Shane were living with Viki, who had been given temporary custody of Shane after her failed suicide attempt. Natalie would be granted custody again after was pronounced capable of caring for him on her own by the court-appointed psychologist.

He had told her that she was making good, steady progress and that he wanted her to begin keeping Shane on her own to prepare herself when he gave the okay for her to receive full custody once again.

Natalie's physical appearance had changed drastically over the last three months. She'd lost quite a bit of weight and her once long red hair now fell just above her shoulders. Her old clothing hung loosely on her thin frame, and it was only on Viki's insistence that she had bought an entire new wardrobe.

Every day that she looked in the mirror she felt a pang of regret upon realizing that her deceased husband wouldn't recognize her.

Normally, Tuesday was the day when Viki would go shopping and leave Shane under the care of Natalie and Lois. But on this particular Tuesday, much to Natalie's relief, she had different plans.

Viki was taking her grandson to Pine Valley for one of their weekly visits with Babe Chandler and the now-toddler aged Adam Chandler III; the boy they had been fooled into thinking was a Buchanan.

Natalie had begged out of the trip by feigning illness, and she swallowed as she watched the silver Lexus turn out of the driveway and onto the road.

It was now or never.

Her heart was racing as she took the small white box from its hiding place in her underwear drawer. Refusing to allow rational thought into her mind, she walked slowly to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind her. The privacy was a comfort, no matter how unnecessary the carriage house made it.

Five minutes later, she took a deep breath as she turned to stare at the test, making no move to pick it up. Tears flooded her eyes as her hand wandered to touch her stomach briefly, allowing her to honestly consider the possibility that she might be pregnant for the first time since she had originally suspected it days earlier.

Natalie shook her head, forcing the tears to remain at bay as she removed her hand and picked up the test. She hadn't realized just how much she was trembling until she saw the test shaking so hard that she couldn't read the results.

She took a deep breath and set it back on the counter, covering her face with her hands as she forced herself to take deep breaths. After a moment she was calm enough to pick the test back up, forcing herself to face the truth head on.

The lines indicating the positive results blurred as tears blinded her vision and began to tumble down her cheeks.

The test tumbled soundlessly to the carpeted floor as she clasped a hand over her mouth and allowed her hand to stray back down to her flat stomach. Her face crumpled as she sobbed.

Her husband was dead, and now she was pregnant with his child. Of course, there was every possibility that the father was—

She shook her head, forcing the thought away.

But it wouldn't leave that easily. She closed her eyes and let the memories overtake her… memories of one and a half months earlier; the last time John had attempted to contact her.

Natalie opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight of the person standing there.

"John. What are you—?"

"Can I come in?" He brushed his way past her without waiting for a response.

Natalie rolled her eyes and shut the door, turning around to find him with a picture in his hand. She moved closer and flinched when she saw the picture. It was of her, John and Michael a mere two months ago.

Her temper flared up as she snatched the picture from his grasp, tenderly replacing it on the mantel.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice tinged with quiet desperation; anger forgotten as she was overcome with memories of Michael.

"Look at me." His voice was soft but held a firmness that caused her to relunctantly lift her gaze from the photograph to meet his eyes.

John searched for the words he had wanted to say, but all that he could manage was a hoarse, "I'm sorry." His hand drifted up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and they both shivered at the contact. Their eyes remained locked as Natalie reached up, covering his hand with hers.

"You should go," she said softly, taking his hand off of her face and letting go.

He let his hand drop to his side heavily as he sighed. "Look, I came over here because I had something to say."

"Then say it."

"We're not to blame for Michael's death." He saw the way she stiffened and averted her eyes. He gently put a hand under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze again. "We're not."

Her voice was barely a whisper as she replied, "You're right. It wasn't—it was my fault. You were just there. I was the one who initiated everything, and I was the married woman sleeping with her husband's brother."

He shook his head. "Natalie, no. We made love, and—"

"I can't do this. You need to leave."

"Wait. I'll stop talking about it. I just—I wanted to know if there was any chance that maybe I could come by to check up on you and Shane every once in a while."

He saw the hesitation in her eyes before she slowly shook her head. "It's all I can do to make myself face each morning as it is… I don't think I could do that and focus on recovering if I had to worry about when you were going to come by and make me relive that horrible night."

She was the only one who would have noticed that he flinched ever so slightly at his words, and she saw the way the shadows in his eyes darkened at her words.

"I get that. I just wish—" He shook his head, running a hand over his hair. "I shouldn't have come here." Natalie watched silently as he walked to the door.

He opened it and hesitated, turning to face her. "I can't leave without saying something—I love you, Natalie. I know that nothing can come out of it now, but you deserved to hear the words."

Natalie's eyes filled with tears as she watched him turn around and leave, shutting the door behind him. She held the tears at bay until she heard his car pull out of the drive, and only then did she allow herself to sink to the ground and cry.

She cried for the time when those words might have mattered, and she cried because despite it all she knew that they still mattered to her.

Coming back to the present, Natalie took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. She had fought through therapy and depression for three months, and she knew that she would have to rely on the things she had learned from it to get through this.

"We will get through this," she whispered as she stood up, placing a protective hand on her stomach.

She threw the test in the trash and walked to the sink, splashing some water on her face. She took a deep breath and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was pale, and her eyes were red from all the tears she had shed.

"We have to," she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from her reflection.

TO BE CONTINUED