Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 15
Petra Van Gatt
Despite Emma filling the plane with laugher, giggles, and her favorite songs, I can’t bring myself to match her excitement. I have so many mixed feelings about this trip that keep preventing me from celebrating with her. After all, Alex lied to me about something pretty important, and if it wasn’t thanks to Matt, I’d have never known he had edited that audio. Our night might have ended in a few orgasms ,but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel some resentment for what he did.
Emma comes back and sits again in front of me. “Why aren’t you happy?” she asks, annoyance thick in her tone, after finishing her third glass of champagne. Damn. I think she’s gonna drink the whole bottle by herself at this pace. “You look like someone who’s going to a funeral.”
“It’s just…” I try to find the best words to put on, but since I don’t find any, I just say, “Nothing.” And I force myself to put on a smile, leaving those gloomy thoughts behind. I should be happy, right? After all, I’m getting married in a few days to the man I have always loved.
Yet Emma doesn’t seem convinced. “Girl, fess up,” she insists, her eyes pinned on me. “Is it because you won’t get laid for a few days? Gosh, don’t be so obsessed…”
I huff instantly at her comment; this Emma has got no filter, but at least she makes me laugh. Looking out of the window pensively for a few moments, I then say, “We had an argument yesterday.” And my serious tone breaks the humorous vibe between us. “And, um, I was just thinking about it. But it’s alright, I just need some time to digest what happened. Please, don’t worry about it.”
“What kind of argument?” she asks, leaning forward to get closer to me, twirling her short hair.
I’m not sure if I should tell her something so intimate about us or not, but given the fact I can’t take this out of my head, maybe opening up about it would help. “Um, well, he lied to me about the tape…”
Her brows raise in surprise. “What do you mean?”
I uncross my legs, aiming to find a more comfortable position in my seat before starting this painful conversation that will remind me that Alex is a damn liar. “It was an edited one, the audio he gave me. But his attorney gave the court the non-edited version, and the Bradfords got a copy of it.”
“Was it that different?” she asks, her gaze filled with curiosity.
Since the flight attendant steps in to refill her glass, I wait until she finally leaves.
“They cut a lot, yeah. On the unedited audio they were basically flirting and getting drunk on her favorite wine.”
Emma almost spits out her drink. “What the fuck?” Her jaw drops immediately as she keeps staring at me in astonishment. And I’m not feeling any better as I watch her doing so. “Why did he do that?”
“He said he was just trying to seduce her so that she would open up to him…” I take a deep breath before adding, “I mean, thanks to that confession they won against her. But the fact that he wasn’t honest about it left a pretty bad taste in my mouth.”
“Well, sometimes, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.” And she gives one more sip on her glass.
I frown, perplexed by her statement. “Don’t tell me you are on his side?”
She heaves a sigh, considering me. “I mean, he’d have been in deep shit without that tape, we both know that.”
“I know, but he didn’t need to lie to me,” I riposte. “And it’s not like it’s the first time, he always tries to hide the truth from me.”
“It takes time to trust people fully. Plus, think about the position he’s in.” I can’t help but shake my head at her attitude. It must be the champagne that is messing with her judgement. “Did he make out with her?”
“No! Gosh, what a question,” I snap back. “But that doesn’t mean what he did is acceptable.”
“Look, he needed that tape. And yeah, he should’ve been more upfront with you, but I don’t think you should be that harsh on him.” Alright, Emma. Keep on drinking.
I look out of the window, not wanting to speak any longer with her about my problems. After all, taking relationship advice from a woman who has never had one is pretty ironic. It’s easy to be forgiving when you are not the one going through it. Sure, she can say she is forgiving of her friends and parents when they do something wrong, but when it comes to the man you are about to marry, it’s a whole different story. I did forgive Alex, but that doesn’t mean his behavior didn’t leave a bad impression on me. I might forgive, but not forget. Suddenly, my iPhone starts ringing and vibrating on the table. I wonder if it’s Alex already calling me because I forgot something or so. But no—it’s Matt. Why on earth is he calling me? Curiosity taking the best of me, I slide the screen to answer and put the phone against my ear.
Matt is the first to speak. “Hey! How are you doing?”
“Oh, hey,” I greet, mimicking his excitement. "I’m great, thanks. And you?”
“Always. Look, um, I was wondering if you’d like to meet tomorrow to study macro for your exam?”
My lips instantly twist into a smile at his caring gesture. Matt did macro last spring, but since I was in a coma, I can only do the same exam now.
“Thanks, Matt. But I’m not gonna be in New York for a bit.” For a split second, I didn’t think it was a big deal to tell him the truth, until I remember how just yesterday morning Matt shared with me that unedited audio in the hopes I wouldn’t go to my future in-law’s place today.
“Wait; even after exposing his lies, you’re still going to the Netherlands to get married?” He sounds outraged, and his question is filled with judgement.
“I shouldn’t have answered,” I think to myself, rolling my eyes. “Look, we spoke about it and he—”
“He has you under control, doesn’t he?” he asks, cutting me off. “Fuck…” he blurts out with a rush of air. “How can you be so meek with him?”
“Excuse me?” I snap in shock. “You’re really crossing the line here.” I feel tempted to hang up on him, yet I know Matt is just disappointed that I’m getting married, so I take a deep breath, keeping my nerves in check. We have been trying to avoid talking about my relationship with Alex to save our friendship, but it seems like he can’t help himself.
A gush of air rolls off his lips before he says, “Petra, for fuck’s sake, don’t you see how he’s manipulating you? I showed you with clear evidence how he does that—he flirts with women, makes them feel special, and then makes them go along with whatever he wants…” His words trail off as he seems to be thinking something through. “Honestly, I thought you were smarter than this.” There’s genuine disappointment in his voice, and for an instant, my heart tightens, because a part of me knows that Matt is right. Margaret told me exactly the same about his son the day I met her.
A long sigh escapes me as I ponder his words. “Matt, look, I appreciate your concern, but I took care of it. And I’m more than sure he won’t lie to me again,” I tell him, my voice steady.
“Yeah, right,” he mocks. “I bet whatever you want that he will again as soon as you get married to him,” he answers back. “He knows you won’t break up, he knows how much you love him. I mean, if we can even call that love.”
“Alright, I’m gonna have to go,” I tell him, my patience toward his condescending tone entirely gone. “Thanks for the call.” And I hang up, letting my iPhone drop into my lap. Annoyed. Hurt. And saddened. He knows nothing about my relationship with my fiancé, yet here he is being the same judgmental ass like my mom. They just can’t help it.
“Matt?” I hear Emma asking as she peers over me.
“Yeah…” I discreetly block his number, so that I don’t feel tempted to read his next texts asking for forgiveness. It’s already becoming a classic with him. As I come to think of it, how ironic is it that he expects me to forgive him for his behavior, yet he doesn’t want me do the same when it comes to my fiancé. What a bloody hypocrite.
* * *
The Netherlands, November 26, 2020
We might have landed at 10 p.m. local time, yet Emma seems like she has got an unlimited source of energy as she keeps herself engrossed in conversation with Yara over the phone on our way to the Van Dieren’s estate. Well, after sleeping for five hours on the plane, I imagine she does. The driver informs me we are just at twenty minutes away, which might explain why we landed in a small airfield located in the village of Teuge, surrounded by nothing but snowy pastures.
As we get into the driveway of the estate, I notice how the fields and lawns are all already coated with snow. The corner of my mouth curves up because snow has always brought me so much joy and happiness. And I wonder for an instant if Alex and his sisters used to play in the snow and make snowmen like I had. Once the car parks in front of the stairs, we are welcomed by Margaret herself, Stuart the butler, and Clarissa, the lady’s maid. I wasn’t expecting Margaret to be up so late, but I’m glad she is here. Despite it being the middle of the night, Margaret is just as resplendent as usual, sporting a long wool camel coat, a black turtleneck underneath, her short, silver hair brushed behind.
As we walk in her direction, I notice how she stands gracefully waiting for us with her staff, a beautiful smile on her lips.
“Good evening, young ladies.” After spending all day long with Emma’s casual vulgarity, her polished tone and manners are such a big contrast that it feels odd. I give Margaret three cheek-kisses and thank her for welcoming us into her home. Emma does the same, and Margaret doesn’t waste time with introducing her to Stuart and Clarissa.
Then she gestures us to get inside, and the warmth of the entryway hits my face and makes me ditch my coat right after.
“How was the flight?” Margaret asks us.
“It was great,” Emma answers quickly.
Except she spent the whole time drinking before passing out, I think to myself.
Margaret looks more particularly at me. “Are you okay, Petra?”
“Yes, of course,” I answer with a smile. "I’m just a bit tired from the flight.”
“She’s just missing him dearly.”
I roll my eyes at her answer. Emma and her freaking humor…
And while Margaret is smiling at her comment, she says, “Alright, go and have some sleep, Clarissa will escort you to your room.” She then gives me a hug, most likely to wish me good night. “Tomorrow is a busy day—Julia and I will take you to De Haar so that you can check the place we have in mind for your birthday.”
“Emma is not coming with us tomorrow?” I ask, surprised.
But Emma steps in to say, “Um, Yara is taking me to do some shopping so that we can choose the best outfits for the bridesmaids.”
“Oh, okay, then.” I hope she truly means it and that it’s not an excuse to go and explore Amsterdam with her new friend. Not that I mind, but we are on a tight schedule, and there are still a few things to do. “Well, then, good night,” I say to Emma before Clarissa leads me upstairs to my room.
As she invites me in, I realize my luggage has already been brought inside and placed beside the door. In front of the bed, logs are crackling in the majestic fireplace decorated by grey marble and a crafted wooden mantel. Looking up, a framed mirror stands right above the fireplace reflecting the coat-of-arms of the Van Dierens that can be found over the headboard of the bed. And while this bedroom isn’t as opulent as Alex’s, I can’t help but notice a number of elegant touches—the white ceiling with the chandelier at the center, contrasting with the cherry paneled walls; the matching library in one end with the fluted Tuscan-style pilasters; the large applied ogee-molding that outlines each wall panel; the bathroom door, custom made to match the paneling…
“Is there anything else I can assist you with before I go?”
“Everything is fine, thank you, Clarissa.” After wishing her good night, she finally closes the door behind her, leaving me alone. I let myself fall on the cozy mattress as I heave a sigh of relief to be finally all by myself, surrounded by nothing more than crackling logs and beautiful paneled walls. Notes of vanilla and lavender hit my nose, giving me the impression of being in a brand new room, despite knowing perfectly well this estate is centuries-old. But my quietness is quickly interrupted by the vibrating sound of my iPhone. Looking at the screen, a new text message pops up: I bet my mom gave you one of the guest bedrooms, didn’t she?
A smile settles on my lips at his question. How come you know her so well? Jokes aside, it’s a very beautiful room, and I love it even more than yours. X.
After texting him back, his answer shows up a few moments later. She’s my mom, I’ve known her for 41 years. I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some sleep. Love you.
Love you! X.As I press send, I realize maybe Emma is right; I shouldn’t be keeping resentment against Alex for what he did. If I forgave him, then I can’t keep ruminating about it. Keeping what he did in mind will ruin the whole week and prevent me from enjoying my time with Emma, Margaret, and his sisters. I just truly hope it served him a lesson and he won’t lie again.