by Pamela Ann
All of these ingrained idiosyncrasies and pompous ceremonials left me when I met a man named Richard von Berg. We went to Cambridge and were on the rowing team together. Richard was in the same class as I was, but he was a free man; a man who was allowed to grow without his parents’ having shackled him to their own beliefs. He didn’t live the way I did. Richard was a unique man; a man I admired and loved like a brother. He taught me to follow whatever and wherever my gut directed me.
With his guidance and support, I was able to find the woman that I could finally say I loved. It was a dire day when that love was not returned. On that day, I found out that my father married the woman I had wanted to spend the rest of my life with. When I confronted him, it left me in shambles.
“I did it for your own good! Love! That word is for cunts. You’re being fanciful. You’re a bloody Kensington and love is not part of our lives. Get that through your skull, you dim-witted fool.” My father’s green eyes struck me with their anger as his words sent me to hell.
I walked out of his home, vowing never to speak to him again.
Vowing to destroy him and his young bride.
No one was going to make me a fool and go unscathed.
As expected, the confrontation left me gutted, but the world had another lesson to teach me. When I got a call from Richard, asking—no begging—me to see him at St. Lucia at once, I couldn’t ignore it.
That call changed my life.
Chapter 89
Callum
Approximately three years ago
The flight took a little over eight hours. The whole time, I was anxious about what Richard had meant with his “I need your help, brother” statement. Richard von Berg didn’t ask for help. He was very much capable of doing anything and everything; he would rather keel over than ask for help. I knew this man well. For him to ask for help in that desperate tone was more than disconcerting.
Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t going to be good. I had been there once, a couple of years back, before his parents died. I had spent my Christmas holiday there and it had been the best—the only—Christmas I had ever had. At first, I thought it odd how happy and tight-knit Richard’s family was, but as the days progressed, I saw what a truly loving parent meant; his parents were the storybook kind.
Being envious wasn’t really a normal feeling for me, however right then and there, I’d have wished all of my inheritance away merely to have what Richard had. It was tragic when I found out they had died in a plane crash. The bodies were never found. Even then, though the mourning and pain was evident in Richard’s eyes, he took charge and carried on as he slid into his father’s shoes. I knew how much his parents meant to him, yet he didn’t even crumble then.
Never had this man asked for help. Never.
When I arrived at his home and was let in, I made my way back to his study where I softly knocked on the door before pushing it open and letting myself inside. “Richard?”
The study was dark, so it took a good minute for my eyes to adjust. As my eyes finally became used to the dimness, I could see that there was a small desk lamp alit next to a leather wing chair with Richard sound asleep in it.
The sight of him sleeping in his study was shocking, however what took me by surprise the most was his appearance. He looked simply gaunt, almost yellowish, and the man had truly lost a significant amount of weight. My stomach plummeted further when he softly coughed, giving me a glimpse of his dire condition. This wasn’t a sickness that would go away after a few weeks of Paracetamol. This was more serious.
“Richard?”
Richard—my best friend, my mentor—slowly pried his eyes open and then his weary, gray gaze met mine. “You came,” he whispered while slowly trying to shift himself on the seat. “Thank you.”
“Of course, I came. Why even doubt it?” I murmured as I strode towards him, steadying myself before I sat on the couch next to his chair. “You’re unwell. Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I didn’t know I was until six months ago.” Richard looked thoughtful, appearing almost sad. “I’m dying. Unbeknownst to me, I was infected with Hepatitis B. The infection turned into liver cancer. Since I was young and healthy, I never thought any of my pains and symptoms were anything serious. Had I known, I would’ve hired the best to cure me.” Richard held my gaze, pausing for a few seconds before coughing mildly. “I have weeks, a few months max, to live.”
It seemed so surreal. Richard couldn’t be dying; how could he when he was one of the strongest men I knew? To me, he was family. My brother. I respected this man so much. Now, he was terminally ill.
“We’ll get someone to cure you. I’m sure there are doctors who are undergoing some trials that could help—”
Richard held up his hand to stop me from talking. “I just got back from a trial they were doing in South Africa. Why do you think I’ve been gone a while? I was looking for a cure.” He sighed, full of melancholy. “My time is running out. I’ve accepted it. There’s no cure out there for me—, but this is not why I called you, Callum. I have a favor to ask of you. It’s a very important one and I would be forever grateful if you could help me. I don’t want to die with worry. I hope you can help me.”
The feeling of helplessness was so profound that I’d do whatever he asked of me in a heartbeat. I needed something to do—anything—to help him.
“Anything, you don’t even have to ask.”
Richard gave me a small, weak smile that broke through my composure.
My best friend was dying. Yet here he was, trying to give me a smile because I was going to grant his dying wish. Life was perverse and I hated it.
“I know you will, but I want you to hear me out and think it over.” Richard reached out and tapped my hand. “I won’t hold it against you if you decide not to agree with it. I would completely understand, so don’t even go there.” He drew a labored breath, as though he was desperately trying to sort his thoughts out before handing it over into my hands. “I need you to marry Stella. I know you’re in love with Zara, but I can’t leave this earth knowing my baby sister is unprotected from vultures that will take advantage of her. You’re the only man I know that fits the bill. On top of that, I trust you completely. In your hands, my sister is safe. I can die happy knowing that, Cal.”
Stella, the young, shy, brunette who couldn’t even look me straight in the eye the last time I met her? Well, it was the only time I had met her, I suppose. Marriage. It was meant for the woman I loved, but now that my father had swept in and taken that away from me, there was no one left that I could imagine spending my life with. Besides, I would shoot myself before I would decline Richard’s request.
It was unfathomable to even consider turning back on him.
“Then, I’ll marry Stella. There’s nothing holding me back from helping you get what you wish, Richard.” I paused, nodding towards his somber form. I truly was devastated. Although I was doing a splendid job of not shedding a tear or going into a raging outburst, inside I was barely holding up. Maybe I was still reeling from the lethal heartbreak Zara had dealt me, or maybe life had fucked me quite well so many times before that I felt the need to be composed. Whatever the reason, I held it together and managed to convey my thoughts to my friend. He needed to know that he could trust me with Stella. “I’ll marry her until she’s of age to marry a decent man. I can promise you that I will make sure she is well provided for; her assets secured and safe from men who are after her money.”
Richard had already outlined everything, right down to having his lawyer draft up the agreements before I had gotten there. I was going to marry and be her conservator at the same time. She couldn’t divorce me until she was at the age of twenty-six. I was also provided with all the to-do lists once Stella had chosen someone to marry. He had everything prepared. Now all he needed to do was tell his sister about this arrangement. Richard promised to tell her during teatime and I would meet her for dinner tonight to discuss what was to happen; amongst other things.
c
Dinnertime was set for seven tonight, though by five-thirty, I was restless and needed to clear my head from recent events; so I decided to leave the villa and slowly stroll towards the shore. The more my life went on, more disaster unfolded before my very eyes. It was beginning to look like a Greek Tragedy.
My father. Zara. Their wedding. Richard dying. This impending arrangement with Stella…
Without a doubt, my father’s betrayal was deplorable, yet somehow, deep down, I had sort of expected this due to knowing how controlling he was by nature as well as how emotionless he could be. Richard’s illness and the knowledge of him biding time until death finally made its last call, on the other hand, was killing me. However, Zara’s treachery went far and beyond everything else that had been put before me. Her unfaithfulness eviscerated me completely.
It was a lot to take, but it was what life had handed me.
I was losing people that were important in my life. They weren’t merely fixtures like my father, Zara and Richard were people that I considered my best friends, my family; those who were going to be there beside me through thick and thin.
Losing Zara to my own father had been quite enough; why must I also lose my best friend to cancer? I wanted to scream that he was too young to die, however it didn’t matter if you were young, fit and healthy. Cancer wasn’t picky. Once it staked a claim on you, you’d be fighting for dear life and, most likely, not just once; it would be a battle for the rest of your existence. Some got lucky and survived.
I barely made it back in time for dinner. Since I was too absorbed with my own misery, I hadn’t bothered to change for the occasion. My rugged attire would have to suffice.
Rounding to enter the dining area, I was momentarily struck the second I entered the room where I was met by still, clear, grey eyes with gold flecks; a long, wavy brunette mane; delicate facial features and the longest lashes I had ever seen.
Stella von Berg definitely had grown into a lovely woman. Well, lovely was putting it mildly.
Automatically, I strolled to her side, expecting an even greater attraction from her in close proximity. I was not disappointed, she was even more lovely this close.
“Good evening,” I murmured, slowly inhaling her perfumed scent as I kissed both of her cheeks. The scent was sultry yet not too intoxicating, simply enough subtle, sexiness to evoke the male senses.
“Callum, it’s lovely to see you again.”
Her voice was husky… definitely not the sixteen-year-old I remembered. This Stella was beyond mildly captivating. She paused while I cussed at myself inwardly. What was wrong with me? Richard was dying and here I was thinking about his sister’s scent and how husky her voice was? For fuck’s sake, I needed to get my head checked.
When dinner was served, I contemplated if I should bring up the subject now, or after whilst having a nightcap. I decided that it would benefit us both if we were in the salon. It was a serious matter to discuss and not some inessential subject that could be easily thrown about during lamb chops and veal.
“What are your plans for the future, Stella? Career wise.”
Stella carefully chewed her food before washing it down with a sip of her Sauvignon Blanc then delicately dabbed the sides of her mouth with the silk napkin. “My best friend, Lucia, and I are thinking of setting up our own PR firm. She and I are enrolled for a two-year course in London before we venture out in that area. It’s a competitive field, obviously; so even with the right amount of knowledge and wisdom, we both understand experience is vital in understanding the ins and outs of running a real firm.”
Impressive, she truly was. Most women with the likes of her pedigree were usually twits that cared about social stature and the bank account. Women who were born in wealth were usually groomed to marry a wealthier man and it was a given that one should know how to run a household. For example, which silver and china should be used to a certain party or how to mask things with fake smiles. This woman, who was sharing a meal with me, was the genuine kind. What did I truly expect? She was Richard’s sister, brought up levelheaded by both loving parents; one of the many things I had always envied about Richard.
“If you need help with looking for a PR company that could help you and your friend, do let me know. I’d be happy to help.”
Her smile was genuine as it lit up her sad face. For a few seconds, I let myself appreciate her beauty before I commanded myself to put it aside.
“One of my best friends, Mark, actually has a brother who owns a company and he gladly took us on board until we are ready to go out on our own, but thank you for the offer.”
Male best friends, such things were non-existent no matter how progressive a male proclaimed himself. It was either this Mark fella wanted Stella for himself or he fancied the other friend. Looking at her face now, I was hoping it was the latter.
Whoa! Hold it there, fool.
My sudden trail of thoughts was surprising to me. Was it because Richard told me to marry his sister? Yes, it had to be my protective side, nothing more. Of course.
We never spoke about Richard’s illness nor did we speak about the impending nuptials, instead Stella found lighter subjects to discuss. She was rather chatty. I doubt I had ever been that engrossed in conversation with an eighteen-year-old before. Eighteen! Christ, Callum!
Once we entered the salon, we waited until the staff served us coffee before I finally took the lead and talked about what was to come. “Have you spoken with your brother?”
Stella graciously stirred her sugar in her cappuccino then calmly placed the teaspoon down and took a careful sip. “Yes.”
She spoke like she had already decided. “And?” I pressed, needing to know her thoughts and opinions immediately.
“I trust his decision. If he thinks this is the wisest thing to do, then I will do it without question. The only thing I’m worried about is you. This will put a halt to your life, Callum. I mean, what happens if you want to marry in a few years?”
“I won’t,” I assured her.
Stella looked thoughtful a moment, measuring. “How can you be so sure?”
Because my father beat me to it, my brain blurted out; making me feel all the concealed hatred once again, afresh and volatile in my mind. Hell on earth had replaced my once fun, carefree, optimistic life.
“Let me tell you something about me, Stella. I don’t lie when it comes to important matters and I’m telling you now, I won’t be marrying anyone in the next few years or decade because I don’t want to. Marriage is a blasted farce, one I certainly don’t fancy. There was a time that I did, but all the inkling to marry has been undeniably lost on me, forever.”
Those sharp, grey eyes looked at me shrewdly and I didn’t back down from the heat of them. Finally, when she thought it was time to concede, she obliged. “This is very generous and truly kind of you to help us. I promise that I will stay out of your way. You won’t even remember I exist.”
I truly doubted that, really, because a man would be blind not to see her gentle beauty. One day, she would find her fire, and when she did, she would be fatal to any man.
Just like that, we made a silent pact; one where we would carry through Richard’s wishes.
Five days after I had arrived in St. Lucia, Stella and I took our vows in a tiny chapel on the estate grounds. I wasn’t even fazed when I was declared married, though Stella repeatedly apologized for being such a nuisance to my life.
She truly didn’t need to because I welcomed her nuisance. She might not have known it then, however I was more than happy to help. Even though I had only met Stella once before this whole thing happened, I had spent a great deal of time with her parents when they visited Richard in Cambridge. After my Christmas visit, her parents treated me like one of theirs and, for that, I would forever be truly grateful. It might sound odd, but I considered Ella and Richie von Berg like parents. Those two truly were the best couple I had ever met and, when they’d died, I mourned for months alongside Ri
chard.
Yes, Stella might not be aware, but in my heart, her family had become my family long ago. This marriage had merely made that feeling more of a reality.
c
Life had made me see how helpless a mere mortal was against forces that were far greater than any of us; their strength and capacity were boundless, immeasurable. When those forces finally chose someone’s fate, one would always remember the battle because it was a battle where one’s survival was uncertain. It could leave rancid, ugliness in its wake as it slowly suctioned you down, cruelly breaking piece after piece of your armor until you were fully bare. From there it would lead you to unchartered territory, drawing you to the place where it had all begun. The circle of life would then be complete.
Everything we had was temporary. The joys of love and the gutting pain were a treasured experience that would be all too brief.
Your heartbeat, your thoughts, your love, your strength, your faith and your fight were all quintessential crumbs that merely led you to a path which paved the way to the battleground.
There would be countless times where life would test our limits, strength, power and perseverance. Most of us learned from these small skirmishes, but those were all simply calculated steps to prepare us for the grandest battle of all; that one fight where everything was all on the line. It wouldn’t ask kindly for permission to oppose you in an all or nothing duel; no, it would demand it of you. A duel where we had everything to lose and it had the power to gain an incredible advantage.
It would be an unforgettable battle. The fight of your life. A head-on assault which would riddle you with scars, marring you deeply. Although many had survived it, they would never be the same again.