“Actually... I’ve been going there under the fake ID you gave me.” We fall silent, while Petra continues processing everything I’ve told her. “Do you think they will forgive me?”
I cringe at her question. “I’m gonna be straight-up honest with you, babygirl…” I don’t want to, but I’ve got to. “I don’t think Van Dieren will propose after you tell him.”
Petra gasps in terror. “Why? Just because I hid it from him?”
“No, because you lied to him and he made a promise to his best friend based on it. You know how serious Van Dieren is about keeping his word. Maybe you should talk to your father first…”
“Dad first? I think Alex will be easier to get on my side than Dad—after all, it’s his child too.”
“Hmm, just be careful. If you need anything, call me. These type of men freak out when things are out of their control.” I hold Petra very tightly for longer than usual. “You know I will always have your back, right?”
Petra smiles. “I know.”
Chapter 33
Bedford Hills, March 6, 2020
Alexander Van Dieren
I’ve pondered Roy’s ultimatum for over two months now. And throughout this time, half spent in Singapore, I know two things with absolute certainty: one, I love Petra more than my own self, and two, if I can’t marry her, I shouldn’t have her. I started this romantic relationship solely so I could spend the rest of my life with Petra, not as my goddaughter, but as my wife. If our relationship is doomed to never evolve, then we shouldn’t continue any further. And as Roy once said, she’s still so young—she has her entire life to meet someone else. I hate the idea that Tess Hagen will win, but that woman is so evil, she would do anything and beyond to destroy me, Roy, and anyone else if needed. The impact it’d have on Petra’s life, reputation, and health might be even worse than breaking up with her.
I invited Petra over to talk. A talk I never expected to have. I sent my driver to pick her up while I wait in my office with a Macallan in hand, the fourth glass of the day and it’s only three p.m.
Incredible how this office has witnessed so many hard talks: the talk I had with Roy, not so long ago, regarding my feelings toward his daughter and my intention to marry her; the talk with Julia asking me if I would approve the assassination of Petra’s mother; and now, the worst of them all, putting an end to all of this—killing myself, it feels like.
I hear knocking. The door opens.
I can’t help but smile at the sight of her—she’s wearing a loose white sweatshirt, her usual jeans, and a pair of white sneakers. Her cherry lips smile back at me, her skin glowing, her eyes sparkling. She looks like she’s going to run in my direction like a kid, and she does. I welcome her with a kiss, tasting her lips one last time, but she probably feels the bitterness in my heart more than anything else.
“What’s wrong?” She knows me so well.
“Petra, have a seat.” I invite her to sit where her father sat before. But Petra is not Roy and she doesn’t obey. Instead, she studies my face, my expression…
“Tell me,” she insists again. I look down but remain speechless. “Wow, seems serious.”
“It is,” I reply, but nothing further seems to come out.
Petra Van Gatt
The more I observe him, the more I wonder if he knows about my pregnancy. Maybe the clinic found out my real identity, maybe they sold the information to Dad… Oh God, this is it. He knows everything! The words he’ll say next, I know them. He won’t propose. I’ve got to throw up. “Is there a bathroom around?”
He points to a door, and before he can say a word, I run to the back of his office, open it, and find a small bathroom. Unfortunately, I vomit into the toilet before I can close the door behind me. I feel so embarrassed that he witnesses it all. He turns his face away at the terrible sound I make when the acid evacuates my mouth.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve thrown up,” he snaps. “You haven’t eaten properly either. This could be serious. Let me call the doctor.”
What? He doesn’t know yet? Or is he just pretending to test my honesty? “No need. I can explain.” I sigh nervously. I’ll have to play the honesty card—just like Emma recommended.
“Well, I’m listening.”
“I’m… I’m...” I reach down to my abdomen, but words don’t come. I feel so ashamed for what I did. I shouldn’t have lied to him, and now I’m so scared I’ll regret it. But it’s too late. I shut my eyes, anticipating the worst.
“Oh, Petra…” His tone is enough to petrify my entire body. I swallow hard. His hands go to his face, and he rubs his eyes tiredly. “You are with child, aren’t you?” His question is laced with disappointment as he looks in my direction.
I nod.
He lets out a deep breath, gazing intently down at the floor, then back at me. “How many weeks?”
I can’t even move, think, or talk in the face of so much hostility, but I shut my eyes once more, and with my voice broken and weak, I mumble, “Fifteen…”
“What? You must be kidding me,” he immediately snarls. “That goes way back to early December. You told me you were on the pill. You… you fucking lied to me! Why did you do that? Why?”
“Because I wanted this!” I shout through tears. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but since you promised Dad we wouldn’t have kids before I graduate, I kept it to myself. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. But, oh God, I was so happy when I found out.”
“Petra, you’re only eighteen, for God’s sake! Your dad will hate me. I made him a promise I can’t even keep because his daughter is a fucking liar!”
“Stop talking about him and your stupid promise! He has nothing to do with us!”
“Really? He has nothing to do with us? In what world do you live?”
“We can still get engaged,” I insist. “We don’t need his fucking permission anyway.”
“No, we cannot,” he announces, sounding defeated.
My jaw drops to the floor as I look at him in the eye. His are red and watery. I’ve never seen him like this before. Is he holding back tears?
“I’m sorry, Petra, but it’s over.”
I gasp, covering my mouth. Oh God, I feel my heart reel at such a punch. The pain is so deep that I can barely breathe. “You can’t be serious!” I start sobbing. “Just because I’m pregnant? Just because I lied?”
Alexander Van Dieren
Oh Petra, if you knew… “It’s either me or the baby,” I add, knowing she will choose the latter.
She caresses her baby bump, despite it being very small. “What’s wrong with you?” she shouts through her sobs. “You’re really suggesting I end my pregnancy or else we are done?”
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and say what has to be said. “Yes.” Please, Petra, just choose the baby and break up with me.
“Very well.” She sniffles and dries her tears. “You are the cruelest person I’ve ever met! Mom was right! You are nothing but a disgusting heartbreaker, a monster! I hate you!”
I can’t contain my tears for much longer. I need to get out of here before I lose control. Before I tell her the truth once and for all. Be wise, Alexander! I hear Roy shouting in my head. You know what’s at stake. “You have some belongings in my bedroom. I’ll get them for you. Wait for me here.” And I shut the door behind me, just as my tears start falling.
Petra Van Gatt
He leaves me alone in total agony. My entire world is crashing beneath my feet. Emma was so right. I feel so disgusted and disappointed by his words, his attitude, his reaction. While I knew he’d be shocked, I never ever imagined he’d prefer me to have an abortion. Fuck, it’s his baby too! This feels like a nightmare. I don’t recognize him! Oh God, what happened to him? I can’t stand either him or my father, who’s always in between, controlling us and how we live. I hate both of them! I sniffle and dry my tears quickly. My agony switches to anger. If I have to choose, like he just told me to, well, my choice is made. I have to get away. Far
away.
Seeing Alex’s car keys on the desk, I grab them and head outside. I find his Mercedes parked right at the entrance. I get inside quickly so as not to be seen. I’m not used to driving, but I decide to give it a try. The engine roars, and the car starts moving. I press another key, the metal gates open, and I leave.
My iPhone keeps ringing. I’ve already blocked Alex’s phone number after his successive calls and after rejecting them all. This time, it’s Emma. Good. “Hi, Emma. No, I’m not in Bedford Hills. In fact, I’m leaving New York, driving south. I’m thinking Florida or so. Yes, I’m driving… I know I don’t usually drive, but who cares! No, my decision is made! I don’t want to talk or see anyone from my family, him included. I’m done with them. Done,” I yell. “If anyone calls you, you have no idea where I am. No! I won’t talk to him, Emma. You were so right. As soon as he knew about my pregnancy, there was no more engagement, or relationship at all. He even suggested I have an abortion—kill his own baby! Such an asshole. I don’t need anyone to raise this child. Alex and my father can live happily together. I won’t disturb any—”
Manhattan, March 6, 2020
Alexander Van Dieren
Despite Janine’s insistence that Mr. Van Gatt was not available, I run into his office/library and fling the door wide open. “Roy, I need to talk to you.”
Roy shuts his book abruptly. He turns his face toward the entrance of the room and gestures to Janine, who leaves, closing the door behind her. “Sounds serious. What is it about?”
“Petra took my car and ran away,” I begin. “I spoke to Maria, Emma, my sisters—no one knows where she is. I called her, texted her, nothing.”
“What? Okay, calm down,” says Roy, mainly to himself. “She must be somewhere nearby. Let me call her.” He puts the call on speaker, and we wait, wait, and wait… “Not answering. Let me call Emma…” Emma answers. “Emma? It’s Roy. Is Petra with you?”
“Nope, she told me she’s spending the weekend at Van Dieren’s.”
“Well, unfortunately, she took his car and left. She’s not at home either… If she calls you, could you kindly let me know where she is?”
“Sure.”
“Thank you.” Roy hangs up. “Emma won’t say a word to us. But I think you’re right. Petra ran away. I’ll call some people. They should be able to track her down.”
“Her phone is no longer in service. She probably threw it away and got a new one,” concludes one of the agents sitting in Roy’s office, eyes glued to his laptop.
I feel myself losing my temper. “I can’t believe this! So, she doesn’t want us to know where she is?” I look back at Roy in fury. “This is because of you. See? I never wanted to break up with her. I never should have listened to you!”
“You did the right thing,” he snaps. “We just have to find her, bring her home, and everything will be okay. Then you will go to Singapore as planned.”
“No. Once we find her, I’ll tell her the truth, Roy. And I will propose. My decision is made.”
“Don’t even think about it, Van Dieren!”
“She is pregnant,” I announce.
Roy gasps in shock, instantly falling onto the sofa behind him. There he remains livid, speechless, and paralyzed. But I’ve got more to say. “I might lose everything, but I won’t lose her. She’ll be my wife, whether you and Tess like it or not.”
He rubs his eyelids before looking back at one of the agents. “Did you manage to track his car?”
“We are working on it, Mr. Van Gatt.”
“Then work harder!”
We hear knocking.
“Mr. Van Gatt?” Janine steps quietly inside, a phone in hand. “I know where your daughter is…” she mumbles gravely, head down.
“Well, Janine, where is she?” Roy snarls. But Janine remains mute and still. “Speak, for God’s sake!”
“The police called… Oh, poor little girl…” She shakes her head, sniffling.
“Janine, speak!”
She quickly dries her tears and looks up at Roy. “There was an accident. She’s at Pennsylvania Hospital in Philadelphia.” Her voice gets lower, harder to understand through her sobbing. “The car crashed into a truck. Oh, dear Lord…”
I’ve got to close my eyes at the intensity of the punch to my chest. It can’t be true; it can’t be Petra! “In Philadelphia? She left New York? Are you sure it’s her, Janine?”
“They found her ID in her purse, Mr. Van Dieren. That’s how they reached us.”
“How is she?” Roy asks.
“Janine, tell us! How is she?”
“She’s not conscious… The doctors advised to come as soon as possible.”
With a defiant glare, Roy looks back at the agent sitting on his chair. “Get us a helicopter. We’ll leave now.”
Pennsylvania Hospital, March 6, 2020
When we get to the hospital, we’re escorted by a physician to room forty-two on the fifth floor.
Janine starts sobbing when she sees Petra lying in bed, unconscious and wrapped in white bandages. I try to remain calm and comfort Janine, but my heart is as paralyzed as hers.
Roy walks closer to the bed. “When is she going to wake up?”
“Unfortunately, we don’t know, Mr. Van Gatt. The head injuries and her unconscious state are serious. There is no response so far to any neurological stimuli. So, it could be in one day, one week, one month… or longer.” The physician takes the report and reads further. He raises his eyebrows, rubs his eyelids, takes a deep breath, and, for some reason, looks at me. “I don’t know if you knew or not, but”—he pauses for an instant— “she was also about fifteen weeks pregnant. Unfortunately, the fetus didn’t survive the accident. The miscarriage was instant. We performed a D&C surgery to remove the fetal tissue left in her womb to prevent further complications. I’m truly sorry to have to give you this news.”
The reality too harsh to face, I close my eyes and press my lips tightly together. I feel so much rage, anger, and hate consuming me. I never should have followed Roy’s “wise” advice. I should’ve followed my heart, gotten down on one knee when she announced her pregnancy, told her how much I love her, how happy I was, and kissed her. But I didn’t. And all this rage, anger, and hate are entirely toward myself. I feel my eyes watering and a tear already coursing down. This is my fault. I promised to protect her, told her no one would ever hurt her again, and I’m the one who did the worst.
I look back at Roy. He seems distant, far away, in denial of this nightmare. “Are you telling us you don’t know when she will wake up? How is this possible?”
“She is in a coma, Mr. Van Gatt.” The physician takes a deep breath. “Comas can last several days to several years. So far, her heart, lungs, and brain are stable. She can breathe on her own, which is very important. But we can’t predict if she’ll ever wake up, or if she does, how she’ll be afterwards. The medication can only prevent further physical and neurological damage. But rest assured, only rare comas last longer than a month—most patients wake up after a week or two.”
Roy shakes his head. “Can we transfer her back to New York?”
“I’d like to have her here for at least a week or two to examine and monitor her condition. Then, if she doesn’t wake up, you can transfer her.”
“Oh God, Tess is calling…” Roy takes the call despite it coming at the worst moment. “Tess, how are you…? Petra’s unfortunately not available right now. She is…” He swallows hard. “Can you get a flight to Philadelphia or New York? It would be easier to explain once you get here.”
Pennsylvania Hospital, March 7, 2020
Tess Hagen
If there’s one thing we mutually agreed upon and respected these last seventeen years, it was that I would never step foot in New York and Roy in Rotterdam. We each have our territory, our cities—our space. Roy rarely comes to the Netherlands, and I, a proud born and raised Rotterdammer, never much enjoyed the other side of the Atlantic either. But today I’m landing on American soil af
ter seventeen years.
I nearly collapse when I find out my daughter is in a coma. Roy and Alexander are standing near the closed door, faces down and serious. They don’t know what to say or do—the duo remain speechless.
“The doctors said they should be able to remove the bandages in four weeks,” mumbles Roy after a long silence.
I want to cry out loud, but the rage and hate I have for these men is so grave, so deep, that I place a tender kiss on my daughter’s forehead, stand up from the bed, and make a life-changing decision. “I’m moving to New York to take care of her. Enough is enough!”
“You’re not moving here. Forget it, Tess!” barks Roy. “Alexander is leaving for Singapore. You won’t have to worry about him anymore,” he reassures me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” rebukes Van Dieren, looking at us. “Tess, I truly love her. More than anything in life. You are hurting her as much as me. Just accept it and move on. Let her be happy with me.”
“Never, Van Dieren!” I point my index finger at him in disgust. “You’re a fucking disgusting pervert! This relationship is cursed! This is not love—this is a cruel and twisted obsession! You better go to Singapore, unless you want to lose everything!”
Van Dieren doesn’t say a word. He starts rubbing his eyelids and takes a deep breath before looking me in the eye again. “I won’t disappear again without saying goodbye,” he adds feebly. “Let me take care of her until she wakes up.” But I remain mute, unmoving. “I just lost a baby and the woman I love, for God’s sake! Can’t you at least do that?”
I consider his request while observing his eyes fill with tears. “If God is merciful with her and grants her a second chance, you better forget this relationship once and for all,” I snarl. “She can stay with you in New York, but I’ll choose the physician who will monitor her condition on a daily basis. And once she wakes up, you tell her goodbye, and you are gone—for good. Are we clear?” He nods. “If you ever try to see Petra afterward…” I squeeze my lips together, head shaking. “I swear to God, I’ll make sure the entire world knows what both of you did.”
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