Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter Book 2)

by Melanie Martins

  “Matthew,” Alex greets. I didn’t even realize he’s now standing right in front of me. He looks younger today, maybe because he’s also sporting a pair of jeans and a slim Henley shirt. His brown hair is just as unbrushed as mine. He shakes my hand, but not as strongly as last time. “Great to see you.”

  Keeping a steady and firm voice, I say, “Mr. Van Dieren.”

  “Are you hungry?” he asks rhetorically, inviting me into another room. “Maria made a vegan tortilla for you.”

  I squint my eyes immediately. “How do you know I’m vegan?” I ask, annoyance thick in my tone. I follow his pace and find myself in a spacious, bright room with lacquer-paneled walls and floor-to-ceiling windows, a big glass dinner table at the center.

  “I did a little background check on you,” he casually says, taking a seat at the table.

  Of course he did. “And did you find anything exciting?” I ask, also sitting down as Maria places the famous tortilla in front of me. And I must confess, it looks really delicious.

  “Not much, so either your dad cleared your record or you’re really a saint.”

  “Not everyone is a criminal, you know…” I say as I start cutting a bite.

  “Not everyone has a dad who’s the attorney general of the state of New York.” But I put the cutlery down just as fast. We remain mute as we stare at each other. His eyes study me meticulously, ready to catch any missteps. “If there is anything I should know, you better tell me now, ‘cause I’ve got a pretty good flair for finding things people don’t want me to.”

  I’m starting to understand why Petra likes him. He seems smart. And I like smart. “Alright, um, I drank a beer at a party last year, and the cops came ‘cause of the neighbors. Needless to say, we got in trouble.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I don’t think so,” I reply, containing the urge to attack the tortilla.

  “Who is Sarah Leniski?” he asks. And my jaw nearly falls. Did he spy on our entire group or what?

  “Eh, she’s a friend of ours. She’s part of our group at Columbia, which includes her, Katrina, and David. Why?”

  “You spent the entire summer with her. Is she your girlfriend?”

  “I, um… well…” Damn it! Did he check my credit card statements? Might be the flights I booked to Hawaii with her. “She is a friend with benefits,” I tell him.

  “So you guys just fuck?”

  “It’s over now,” I lie. Crap! I shouldn’t. I’m actually seeing her tonight. What if he finds outs? “I mean, we do see each other casually. But it’s just sex, you know.”

  “And how does Sarah feel about it?”

  “Oh, she is cool with it. She’s actually the only one who knows about my feelings for Petra.” I bite my tongue. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve admitted that to him before.

  Her fiancé obviously heard me very well and asks bluntly, “So you love her?”

  “I… um, well, that’s quite a private question…”

  His chin slowly dips, and he gives me a solid stare. “Matthew, cut the bullshit.”

  “I’ve got strong feelings for her, yeah,” I confess, throwing all secrecy out the window. “Not sure if I can call it love, but yeah, I care about her.” Letting out a sigh, I then add, “No one knows except my Pops and Sarah. To everyone else, we are just vegan besties.” I can’t help but crack a smile remembering when she gave us that nickname. “But why are you asking me all this?”

  “I'm moving to Singapore in a few hours,” he announces. And his tone is enough to make me freeze in my seat. “So I need to make sure she’ll be alright once I’m gone.” I put down the cutlery and take a sip of my smoothie, trying to disguise my smile. Is he really leaving? Damn!

  “Um, sorry, but why are you leaving?”

  “That’s beside the point,” he snaps. “She’ll need friends around her. Friends that are a good influence and will keep her on the right track.”

  “So, wait, does that mean you guys are gonna break up?” But he doesn’t reply. Instead, he just observes me as I finish the tortilla. Did I leave him mute? “Is she gonna be single or not?” I ask him again, my tone steadier. But Alex keeps looking at me. It seems like the question bothers him—maybe even more than he thought. After waiting a few more moments for his response, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  He finally blinks, and as if it hurts him, he mutters, “Yes. She will.”

  Chapter 19

  Manhattan, September 19, 2020

  Petra Van Gatt

  “Petra…” I hear someone whispering in my ear. Then I feel soft kisses on my face and forehead as I mutter something under my breath. “Petra, wake up.”

  “Mmmm…” I say in response, my eyes still closed as my body remains under the warm blanket.

  “I need to talk to you,” the voice murmurs to me. “Please wake up.”

  My mind slowly starts processing those words. I need to talk to you. And then the voice…

  Jeez! It’s Alex! I wake up with a jump, startled by the revelation. Opening my eyes, I find him sitting beside me on my bed at Park Avenue.

  “How did you get in?” It’s the first question that comes to mind.

  “Your dad opened the door for me,” he replies, keeping his voice just as low.

  Sitting up in bed, I turn on the lamp, which gives a cozy and gold-colored light to the room, and see it’s 2:30 a.m. on the digital clock lying beside it. Then I look at my fiancé, who’s sporting a slim white shirt, and I can’t help but notice how tight the sleeves are around his toned biceps or the way his chest flexes under the material. His face is overly serious though, his expression laced with severity and concern as he observes me.

  “What’s going on?” My tone comes out a bit shaky, but my heart is already pulsing anxiously fast. The more I look at him, the more alarmed and worried I am.

  “I’m moving permanently to Singapore.” His announcement is enough to make my heart fall to the ground. “I’m leaving in two hours.”

  “Um…” I bat my eyelids twice, totally speechless. Then, after processing his words, I ask, “So… should I start packing some clothes? We’re going together, right?”

  Alex gives me a quick smile, looking tenderly at me. “Oh, Petra…” His voice is loaded with sorrow, but he doesn’t say anything further. Instead, he takes my hand, giving it a long kiss that squeezes my heart even more. “Your life is here, in New York.”

  But I pull it back immediately. “My life is with you!” Then I take a deep breath, thinking something through. “This is because of my mom, right?”

  “And your dad,” he confesses.

  And my dad? So he’s also against us? I shouldn’t be surprised. If anything could destroy his reputation, Dad would automatically stand against it, including us.

  “Why did you accept my proposal, then?” I ask, confused. Dazzled. Lost.

  “Because I do want to marry you,” he replies, his eyes locked on mine. “I just can’t.” As if he’s ashamed to have said so, he breaks eye contact, looking downward.

  Those three words, as sharp as a knife, have just perforated me, my soul, my heart, my dreams… And, worst of all, I saw this coming. The nightmare I had was not just a nightmare, but a glimpse into my new reality—a reality without him.

  I close my eyes in a failed attempt to control the pain. “Why?” I mumble, knowing all too well the answer. “Why can’t you?”

  He lets out a sigh, pondering his next words. “Your mom has some dirt against my family, your dad… and me. And she is ready to press charges if I don’t leave you alone.”

  “What kind of dirt?” I ask just as fast.

  “The kind that could land me in jail for a long, long time,” he says, keeping it short. “I can’t tell you exactly what it is, since it involves other people, but I can’t take it lightly.” He pauses, observing my distress. My mind must have shut down, as I’m totally unable to speak. “Your father tried to talk to her, I also tried, my own mother tried…” His face and voice are filled w
ith disappointment and pain. “I’m so sorry to have started this relationship,” he says, sounding defeated. “I should’ve been wiser.”

  This is it. He’s really breaking up with me. My jaw must’ve dropped a long time ago by now, and as I process everything he just said, my eyes start watering and I can’t help but sniffle. “So this is how it ends, huh?” Wiping the first tears coursing down my cheeks, I add, “My mom wins, and you let her get away with it?”

  “Petra…”

  “No!” I shout as I release myself from his embrace. “I thought you’d fight for us. That you’d face anything and beyond for us!”

  “I’m doing what is right…”

  “For them!” I snap back. “Not for us. Not for me.”

  “I know it hurts—”

  “I hate you,” I tell him. “And I’m beyond…” I tilt my head back, trying to contain the tears that are already falling. “I’m beyond disappointed with your attitude and cowardice.” I take a deep breath, and, looking him in the eye, I say, “If you give up on us, then you are not the man I fell in love with.”

  “I know,” he replies, his voice just as calm. Then he wipes my tears with his thumbs, pulling me again into his arms. “I love you so damn much. Never forget that.” I huff, barely believing his words. “One day you will understand, trust me.”

  But I push him away. Then I reach for my engagement ring and say, “I guess you might need this.”

  As I’m about to remove it, he stops me immediately. “No, keep it. This ring is yours. It always will be. Please,” he insists. “Keep it as… as a keepsake of the time we spent together.”

  I feel so empty inside that even death doesn’t seem like such a bad option. How can he do this to me? To us? What does my mother have against him, my dad, and his family that is so serious he doesn’t even try to fight back?

  Before I can think any further, he presses his lips against my forehead in a never-ending kiss. “If you leave for Singapore, I will never forgive you, Alexander,” I tell him, my tone threatening. “Never. Do you hear me?”

  We look in each other’s eyes as if it is the last time.

  “Promise me you will take good care of yourself,” he asks.

  “I won’t promise you anything,” I snap back. Despite my anger and sobs, I plead once more, “Please don’t leave me.” I sound pathetic, but my despair is too great to even care. “You can’t leave me. Please.”

  “Hey…” he whispers, soothing me. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got Dr. Nel taking care of you.” I close my eyes, trying to force myself to wake up from this nightmare. It must be one. It can only be that. “You’re destined to do great things, Miss Van Gatt. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

  But as stubborn as I am, I keep insisting. “Let me go with you. We can leave everything and everyone behind.”

  “Petra, they won’t even let you in.” He pauses for a beat, smiling at my tenacity. “The pilot and crew know very well that you are not supposed to fly with me.”

  “I will fly commercial, then.”

  “If you go to Singapore, your parents will find out and bring you back,” he explains. “You know that.”

  “Even by force?” I ask.

  “Even by force,” he replies. And knowing them as I do, I know they are capable of doing so. “It wasn’t an easy decision. I thought about it for many months. I contemplated every possible solution.” He stops for a second, as if talking was hurting him. “If I could do something more, I would.”

  “I’ll never forgive you,” I tell him again. But the truth is, I’ll never forget him either. I’m doomed to love him until the end. I gave him not only my heart, but also myself in a way no one can understand.

  “I know,” he says under his breath before kissing me on the cheek. “Good night, Miss Van Gatt.”

  But I instantly grab his arm and ask, “Can you at least kiss me like before?” He doesn’t say or do anything, so I ask again, “Just one last kiss.”

  “Petra…” he mumbles. “I don’t think I should.”

  “Just one,” I insist.

  He keeps looking me in the eye, hesitating for a moment. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  His rejection fills me with shame. As Alex stands up and walks slowly toward the door, I don’t try to call him back. I don’t even want to. After all, he is the one who has decided to leave me, to abandon me… again.

  And the truth is, while Alex has chosen to settle for peace with my parents, I’d have chosen war.

  I don’t know much about breakups. The only time I ever experienced one, I ended up at the hospital in a six-month coma. Surely this time, I’m staying safely at home, surviving in the darkness of my bedroom, curled up in my big, empty bed. I don’t even know what I hate the most about him, the fact that he broke up with me to protect us—me, him?—or the fact that he’s not telling me what my mother has against him and everyone else. Is it that bad? I know Dad will never tell me. After all, if there is one thing my father truly cherishes, it’s maintaining a perfect image of himself in the public eye and in mine. And now that Alex is out of the equation, Mom won’t bother telling me either. I shut my eyes, breathing slowly in and out, wishing somehow I could escape this life—a life I can’t even choose for myself.

  Chapter 20

  Manhattan, September 19, 2020

  Petra Van Gatt

  Morning comes faster than I would have thought. Janine, as punctual as always, opens the curtains wide, allowing the sunlight cast into the room to wake me up. But I don’t hear her usual “good morning” to finalize her daily ritual—she most likely knows it’s not a good one for me.

  I hear nothing but Janine’s footsteps walking in my direction. After she sits on my bedside, she lets out a rush of air, softly stroking my head. “Miss,” she murmurs. “I’m so sorry about your breakup.” My eyes remain closed, but a tear escapes. I remain mute, devoid of any will to even talk. “I wish I could let you stay in bed,” she says, her tone just as low and soft. “But your dad is waiting for you to have breakfast.”

  I sniffle, and, opening my eyes slowly but surely, I mumble, “Oh, Janine.” I swallow through my sobs and add, “Please tell my dad I’m not feeling well today.” Not that it matters anyway, but at least I can stay in bed a few more minutes.

  “Alright, I will let him know.”

  Janine stands up and leaves my bedroom, only to come back five minutes later. She sits on my bedside again, and, with her voice just as calm as before, she says, “Your dad is demanding your presence. He’d like to talk to you. You can even stay in your pajamas if you want to.” Wow. In my pajamas? What an honor, I think sarcastically.

  I knew Dad would insist. He’s such a fucking narcissistic and egocentric man. Trying to sit up, my head feels dizzy like it has been hit by a hammer. “Do you have something for headaches?” I ask her. “My head is hurting so much.”

  “Of course.” Janine stands and gives me a hand to help me up, then takes my robe and helps me put it on. As she does the same with my slippers, my mind and body can barely believe what I went through last night. Just twenty-four hours ago, I was a happily engaged woman, looking forward to spending a romantic weekend with my fiancé. But twenty-four hours ago, I was also a very naive dreamer.

  Janine keeps supporting me with an arm around me as I slowly walk out of the bedroom.

  Once we reach the terrace where Dad is having breakfast, I say a quick “thank you” to Janine, who then goes to get some medicine for my headache. As I observe my dad from afar, I can’t help but despise him even more. Whoever said parents tend to sacrifice themselves for the wellbeing of their children lied. Dad would gladly sacrifice me to keep an immaculate reputation on Wall Street.

  “Good morning,” Dad says.

  I sit down in front of him, barely alive after going through the worst night of my life. “Good morning.”

  Putting down his newspaper, he observes my gloomy expression. “Look, the smartest way to survive a breakup is to keep yourself busy,”
Dad advises, his tone devoid of any empathy. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

  So easy for him to say, right? Of course, when it’s not you, it’s always easy to say.

  “I hate you,” I casually reply as Janine puts my matcha latte on the table and gives me a box of Xanax. “I asked you to go to Rotterdam to support me, not Mom.”

  “Petra,” he snaps, although not too loud. “Watch your mouth. You still live under my roof.”

  But I reply just as fast, “I’d gladly move out, believe me.”

  “Let’s stop this nonsense, shall we?” he asks, his tone tired and hurt. “You know I tried to convince her.”

  As I take a Xanax, I say, “You didn’t try hard enough.” Then I put it in my mouth and drink some of my matcha to swallow it down.

  “We are organizing a corporate dinner next month,” he informs me. “It’d be a great opportunity to raise some capital to grow your fund. Our clients will be attending, and I’ve spoken greatly about its performance, you know.”

  “Are you gonna take a cut if I raise money from your network?”

  “No,” he promptly replies. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’re going through.” But of course—Dad trying to buy his forgiveness with a capital injection. Does he really believe he can buy me like that?

  As Janine brings me avocado toast with vegan cheese and cherry tomatoes, I say, “Okay, thanks.” And I take a first bite.

  But Dad doesn’t stop there. “Petra,” he says again, this time with a tone more empathetic. And my attention goes back to him. “Unlike your mom, I know how much you love him. I myself loved your mother just as much.”

  I raise an eyebrow in total disbelief. “And yet your parents never prevented you from marrying her.”

  “If I could make things different, I would.” Since I don’t reply, he adds, “Despite hating it, I supported you and Alex from the beginning. Not many parents would’ve done the same.”

  “Yeah…” And as we keep staring at each other, I add, “Until Mom stepped in and threatened your precious little reputation.” Dad lets out a sigh, irritated by the blatant truth I’ve exposed him to. “I might be young, but I’m not stupid,” I remind him. “I know there is a lot at stake.”