Eleanor POV
Eleanor sits back down because her legs have stopped working properly.
Mr. Peterson slides another document across his desk. This one is old. The paper is yellowed and the signatures at the bottom are faded but real. Eleanor recognizes the names immediately. Marcus Nash. Richard Ashford. The fathers who decided the futures of children who hadn't been born yet.
"The contract was signed in 1994," Mr. Peterson says. "Fourteen months before you were born. It's a marriage agreement but it's also a business merger. The Nash family and the Ashford family combined would control a massive amount of wealth and influence. Both families needed that merger. Both families needed the security it provided."
Eleanor reads the contract. The language is legal and complicated but the meaning is simple. Whoever was born as Eleanor Nash would marry whoever was born as the Ashford heir. No options. No alternatives. A deal made in ink.
"The contract doesn't care about love," Mr. Peterson continues. "It doesn't care about compatibility or happiness or whether the two people involved actually know each other. The contract only cares that an Eleanor Nash and an Ashford heir are married. The contract only cares that the merger happens."
"But Eleanor Ashford," Eleanor says slowly, "was never supposed to be Eleanor Nash."
"No. She was an accident. A hospital mistake. But from the perspective of the contract, she became Eleanor Nash when she grew up in the Nash household and was given that name. From the perspective of your family and the Ashford family, she became the girl the contract was written for. Everyone forgot that she wasn't actually born to be the Nash heiress."
Eleanor's hands are shaking.
"When she died," Mr. Peterson says, "the Ashford family could have walked away. The contract could have died with her. But James's uncle Richard saw an opportunity instead. He saw a way to make the contract work exactly as it was originally written. The real Eleanor Nash was alive. The real Eleanor Nash could still fulfill the contract. The real Eleanor Nash would still marry the Ashford heir."
"But James doesn't know about me," Eleanor says.
"No. And Richard hasn't told him. Richard made a decision that telling James would complicate matters unnecessarily. Richard decided that James would marry whoever showed up at the altar as long as her name was Eleanor Nash. Richard decided that loyalty to the contract mattered more than honesty with his nephew."
Eleanor stands up and walks to the window again. She's starting to develop a habit of needing to look at the city when reality becomes unbearable.
"Can I refuse?" she asks. "Can I just say no and walk away from all of this?"
There's a long silence behind her.
"Technically," Mr. Peterson says, "yes. You have the legal right to refuse the contract. You have the legal right to reject the marriage. You have the legal right to walk away from the Nash family and live the life you had before."
Eleanor turns around. "But?"
"But your father Marcus will lose everything. The Ashford family will sue immediately. They'll file in court and demand that the contract be honored or that they receive compensation for damages. The case will take years. During those years, both companies will be tied up in legal proceedings. Both companies will bleed money. Both companies will fail."
Eleanor feels something break in her chest.
"You're telling me that if I refuse, I destroy the family I just found," she says.
"I'm telling you that choices have consequences. I'm telling you that love and obligation are not the same thing but sometimes they have to become the same thing. I'm telling you that you inherited more than money when Catherine left you those documents."
Eleanor sits back down because standing requires too much energy.
"Tell me about James," she says. "Tell me everything."
Mr. Peterson pulls out a thick file. Inside are photographs and newspaper articles and business reports. James Ashford at age ten, standing next to his mother at a company event. James Ashford at age sixteen, already working at the family company. James Ashford at age twenty-three, taking over as CEO after his father abandoned the family completely.
"His father left when James was eight years old," Mr. Peterson says. "Just left. No explanation. No goodbye. His mother spent the next fifteen years trying to keep the company alive while raising a child who'd learned that people you love abandon you without warning. James became obsessed with control. With contracts. With arrangements that made sense on paper even if they didn't make sense in real life."
Eleanor looks at the photograph of a young James Ashford. He looks angry in every single picture.
"He prepared his entire life for this marriage," Mr. Peterson continues. "He accepted it as the only relationship he would ever have that made logical sense. An agreement. A merger. No emotions to complicate things. No possibility of abandonment because both parties would be bound by contract instead of choice."
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Eleanor whispers.
"Yes. And now he's about to discover that his one carefully controlled relationship is about to become very complicated. He's about to discover that the woman walking down the aisle is not the Eleanor he expected. He's about to discover that he's been betrayed by his own family."
Eleanor closes the file and pushes it away from her.
"He's going to hate me," she says.
"Probably not on sight," Mr. Peterson says carefully. "But eventually. Yes. He will hate you because you're alive and the other Eleanor is dead. He will hate you because you're a stranger wearing a dead woman's role. He will hate you because his family lied to him about who you are."
Eleanor stands and walks out of his office without saying goodbye. She walks down the hallway with the expensive carpet and past the receptionist with the judgmental eyes. She walks into the elevator and presses the button for the ground floor.
When she steps outside, the air feels different. The city is the same but Eleanor is different. Eleanor now belongs to someone she's never met. Eleanor now belongs to a contract signed before she was alive.
She goes home to Catherine's apartment and sits in the dark.
She doesn't turn on any lights. She doesn't call anyone. She just sits on Catherine's bed and tries to understand how her life became this complicated in the span of two days. Two days ago she was nobody. She was invisible. She was safe.
Now she's Eleanor Nash and Eleanor Nash belongs to James Ashford and James Ashford doesn't even know she exists.
The dark feels appropriate.
Her phone rings at 8:47 PM. The number is unknown but there's something about the ring that feels important. Eleanor answers without thinking.
"Eleanor?" A man's voice. Older. Careful. "This is Marcus Nash. Your father."
Eleanor's breath stops.
"I apologize for calling so late," Marcus continues. "I've been trying to decide when was the right time to reach out to you. Mr. Peterson told me you received all the information about the contract and the marriage. He told me about how you're feeling. I want you to know that I understand if you're angry with us. If you're confused. If you want nothing to do with our family."
Eleanor can't speak.
"But I'm asking you to meet with us," Marcus says. "Your mother and I. Tomorrow if possible. We want to see you. We want to know you. We want to help you prepare for what's coming. Eleanor, I know this isn't what you wanted. But you're still my daughter. You're still family. Please come."
Eleanor looks at Catherine's empty apartment in the darkness.
"Where?" she whispers.
"The Nash estate," Marcus says. "Your home now. If you'll have it. Victoria is already preparing a room for you. She's been preparing rooms for you for thirty years, actually. She never stopped hoping you'd come home."
Eleanor hears something in his voice that sounds like tears.
"Okay," she says. "I'll come."
"Tomorrow at ten in the morning?"
"Yes."
"Eleanor?" Marcus says before she can hang up. "Thank you. Thank you for giving us a chance. Thank you for not walking away from this family before you even knew us."
Eleanor hangs up and sits in the dark for another hour.
She thinks about Catherine. She thinks about James. She thinks about the contract that binds her to a man who will hate her. She thinks about the father she just heard cry over a phone line. She thinks about the life that's about to change everything.
In three weeks, she will marry James Ashford.
But before that, she will meet the family she was stolen from.
She will meet the woman who gave birth to her.
She will meet the man whose company she was supposed to save with her marriage.
She will meet the people who've been grieving a daughter they never knew they lost.
Eleanor stands and looks at herself in the dark window of Catherine's apartment. She can't see her reflection but she knows it's there. She knows she's still the same person. Still ordinary. Still nobody important.
But tomorrow, she stops being nobody.
Tomorrow, she becomes Eleanor Nash.
Tomorrow, everything changes.