The story of "A"

As the dense fog of night abated, Natalie awoke to find that someone had absconded with her stamp collection. Though she typically abstained from alcohol, Natalie had made an exception the night before. Perhaps it was the surreal hovering mist, perhaps the veritable abyss of heartbreak and self-pity she seemed to be falling into. Dominic, her only companion for the evening, had laughed as she adulterated her vodka with water, assuming the role of advocate for moral irresponsibility.
Dominick, of course, was the most plausible suspect, he having been fascinated with the aesthetic of vintage American stamps since the fateful night she shared her obsession with him. The collection aggrandized her in his eyes and he had come by more frequently ever since. But Dominick was no thief and he had fallen asleep at the kitchen table after the previous night's binging had done nothing to alleviate his headache.
Precious stamp collections and wild drinking binges were a dangerous amalgamation but there was nothing ambiguous about what had happened between Natalie and her loyal downstairs neighbor. Maybe finding the stamps would ameliorate what was destined to be a painful morning anyway, the morning she would have to break her neighbor's heart.
His Chuck Taylors were charmingly anachronistic in her sleek modern kitchen and for a moment she considered letting him sleep. Waking him now seemed analogous to a stewardess rousing a slumbering passenger only to let him know there was turbulence ahead. Maybe last night was just an anomaly and he hadn't meant what he said; maybe the turbulence was past.
Deciding she wasn't ready to antagonize the only man who was yet to let her down, she resumed her search. Maybe it had been Esther, Natalie's elderly neighbor whose antipathy for everyone in the building could quite possibly lead her to break and enter and steal a valuable collection. Natalie suspected the doorman for a moment but realized his characteristic apathy would quench any inkling toward criminal activity. No, not the doorman, though she would keep him in mind if anyone needed to arbitrate a dispute between Natalie and Esther.
Dominic looked embarrassed as he woke up, his archaic ideal of chivalry having been broached by his unsolicited sleepover. She remembered the ardor with which Dominic had assured her she deserved much more than her ex-boyfriend could offer her. She remembered how he had searched for words to articulate how he felt about her, how he tried to assuage the shock with nervous smiles and shrugs.
"Good morning." Now it was Natalie's turn to smile nervously to attenuate what she was sure was a fierce hangover and fiercer embarrassment. Then, audatiously, "There's something I have to tell you."
He looked at her with an austerity she had never seen. "Is it about your stamps? Because I threw them out the window when I realized you could never love me."

(This story brought to you by the letter A. Yes, all of the GRE words in my book that start with A. Can you find them all?)