THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD || Paul McCartney [Completed]

37. As You Sow So Shall You Reap

So, not that it's important, but I wanted to share for fun: I imagine Natalie's father to look like Ian McElhinney. He's got a kind face, but at the same time he looks like he could fuck somebody up, and that is Jack Winters in a nutshell. Anyway, on with the chapter.

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Christmas Eve

Natalie was re-wrapping a few gifts. Clara thought it would be in her best interest to crawl under the tree and start tearing them open. Of course, she was too young to know there were gifts inside, or anything for her, she just saw shiny paper and thought she'd go for it.

A knock sounded at the door, and Natalie glanced up from the ribbon she was tying. "I'll get it!" She called out to her father, knowing he was probably keeping Clara occupied. She quickly finished the bow before she made her way to the front door.

She couldn't help but wonder who could possibly be knocking on her door on Christmas Eve. Better not be Carolers. She thought. She opened the door tentatively and was surprised to see who was standing there.

Paul.

She blinked in confusion, but then became alarmed by the expression on his face.

"I need to talk to you." He pushed his way in, "Right now."

Natalie closed the door behind them, and turned to face him. Why was he here? Why right now? Fear coursed through her veins. Unless...

"Well, hello to you too." She scoffed.

"Can we go to the den?" He asked, running his fingers through his hair, his voice rushed and a look of distress in his eyes.

"Okay, sure. Of course." She rubbed her hands on her skirt nervously before she led him into the den. Her father looked up with Clara, surprise writ across his face at the sight of Paul.

"Pa-pa, can you please take Clara upstairs?"

"Of course." He said, lifting the little girl up and leaving the room.

Paul's eyes followed Jack, his gaze never leaving Clara until they disappeared around the corner. He began to pace, excessively, running his hands through his hair again. There was a long silence as prepared to begin.

She glanced down at his feet, "You're gonna burn a hole in my carpet with all that pacing." She teased, but he didn't even crack a smile. "Paul, what's wrong?" She stuttered her, her heart quickening. Did he know? Was he going to ask?

Yes, apparently.

He stopped pacing and took a few steps toward her. His brows furrowed as he loomed over her, "Is she mine?"

"Pardon?" She snapped, deciding to play the fool for now.

"Oh don't be coy with me, Natalie." Paul said, his eyes darkening, and his tone discordant. "I'm going to ask one more time. Is Clara mine?" His jaw clenched as he awaited her response.