Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins

Chapter 20

Alexander Van Dieren

I watch Petra from the window of my study as she gets into the car after hugging Clarissa and Stuart. Then, a few moments later, the engine starts running, and the car drives her away.

They say if you love someone set them free, and they will come back if it was meant to be. Those words have never resonated so deeply with me until now. Now that she’s gone, I remain standing here, looking absently to the empty driveway and wondering if we were ever meant to be in the first place.

I hear my mother entering into the room, her annoyance already filling the air behind me. “Did she really leave?” Her voice is rushed and obnoxious.

I remain still, standing in front of the window, my eyes taking in the beauty of winter. Everything outside seems so peaceful and quiet. No wonder Petra loves it so much. “She did,” I utter serenely.

“Oh, brilliant! And the wedding is Saturday.” Her loud, stern tone nearly startles me. Despite knowing Mom is still behind me pacing around my study, I don’t blink or move. “What a child! What a crazy child! How dare she leave four days before the wedding?” She pauses, muttering something under her breath. “And where is she going in the first place?” Silence ensues as Mom awaits for an answer. “Alex?” But I’ve got nothing to say, so I just ignore her. “Alex?” she repeats, louder this time.

“I don’t know, Mother,” I snarl, turning my head toward her.

“You don’t know?” she snickers in return. “Your fiancée took her bags and left! Do you not get that?”

The outrage in her voice is irritating, but I just take a long breath in and slowly exhale. “We had to talk about a few things, and the rest was up to her.”

“And you couldn’t have waited until getting married for that?”

My attention goes back to the window and the outdoors. Small snowflakes are starting to fall, whitening the entirety of the landscape. “She deserved to know before.”

“Fantastic,” Mom snaps in sarcasm behind me. “Stuart!”

I hear footsteps rushing in the hallway before they enter into the study. “Yes, Lady Margaret?”

“Would you be so kind telling me where the driver is dropping them off?”

“Um…” Stuart seems confused as he pauses for a moment to ponder my mom’s request. “Well, I’m not sure Ms. Van Gatt wants to be found.”

“I beg your pardon?” The shock in my mom’s voice makes me laugh inwardly, but I do my best not to make a sound.

“I will call the driver straight away.”

I see Mom standing near the door, rubbing her eyelids in frustration. My heart tightens at the sight of it. At her age, she shouldn’t go through so much stress. Even though I know I deserve everything Petra is doing to me, I truly hope she won’t deceive us.

Mom looks in my direction, her expression dead serious, but also deeply hurt. “If she doesn’t show up in time for the wedding, you better forget her once and for all.” And before I can even speak out, Mom points at me and snaps, “And don’t you dare marry her later on, behind my back!”

“Don’t worry.” My voice remains calm as I try to appease her. “If Petra doesn’t come back in time for our wedding, I’ll marry the woman of your choice.”

Her eyes widen in confusion, and she blinks twice. “Um, what do you mean?”

I consider a few more seconds what I have in mind before telling her. “What do you think of Amanda?” I ask. “She was good a fit, wasn’t she?”

“I mean, she was a fine lady, yes. Elegant, classy, articulate…” There is a small pause as Mom seems to think something through. “I just wish she would’ve had a backbone to put you back in your place when you needed, but—”

“We have two ceremonies, no?”

“Yes…” Mom replies, squinting at me.

“And I assume the one that matters to you the most is the one on Sunday at two p.m., in the St. John’s cathedral, right?

“Of course,” she answers straight away. “Everyone will be there.”

I nod pensively, and as I look back to the gardens and the snow falling, I say, “If Petra doesn’t come back by Friday night, then I will marry Amanda.”

Mom gasps instantly. “You don’t even love her.”

“This wedding will happen.” I turn to her and add, “With the woman I love or not.”

“Alex, you don’t have to do that,” she says.

“Amanda is a good fit. Even if I have affairs, she will stay. She stayed for over ten years. She’s perfect.”

Mom doesn’t seem convinced, and her facial expression becomes deeply concerned and even a tad angry. “That is not what marriage is supposed to be.”

My hands on her shoulders, I look her in the eye and say, “I won’t let anyone humiliate you, me, or our family.”

She takes a deep breath but remains mute for a moment, most likely pondering my words. “I appreciate the gesture, but there’s no need for you to do that. If she doesn’t come back by Friday night, I’ll just ask the team to cancel everything and contact the guests one by one.”

“I insist.”

Mom narrows her eyes as she observes me attentively. “But why? Why do you insist on this?”

I turn to the window and watch the snow falling as I ponder telling her the truth or not. “I broke up with Amanda because I genuinely thought Petra was the one.” Even though I never admitted it to myself before, I know that unconsciously there was a stark of hope that maybe, just maybe, Petra could feel the same. I turn to look Mom in the eye, and after taking a deep breath, I say, “If she isn’t, then breaking things off with Amanda was only a mistake. And I can fix it.” After all, Amanda told me if I change my mind before the big day, I could always call her.

“You are insane,” Mom rebukes. “Absolutely insane.” She then paces around the room while ruminating everything I just told her. “You are doing it to punish yourself for losing her,” she says. “That’s why you want to marry Amanda. It’s a punishment you are inflicting on yourself.”

I turn my back on her, focusing on the outdoors. “You may leave now,” I instruct, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.

Mom lets out a sigh loud enough for me to know how much she disapproves of my decision, but she doesn’t say anything further. A few moments later, I only hear her footsteps fading in the background, and the door finally closing behind her.

Alone in my study, my eyes remain on winter and everything this wonderful season means to me. As I look at the snow, it reminds me of Aspen and of my first night with Petra. I remember every little detail like it was yesterday: the white dress we’d chosen in the vintage shop, her jasmine perfume filling the bedroom, her glossy lips tasting like peppermint, her skin radiant and smooth, her face glowing at the mellow lights coming from the fireplace… my heart parts in fury at those memories matching with the same intensity as when I was there with her. Of all the women I’ve been with, I had never had this type of connection before. This type of intimacy, vulnerability, sense of loyalty and commitment…

The day Petra was baptized, Father Thomas said love is a giving behavior, displayed with commitment and care. And that resonated well with me. Maybe too well. Ever since that day, I was truly committed to care about her. A new sense of responsibility had blossomed in me, which I embraced with joy as I became her godfather… Jeez, I don’t even know why I’m thinking about it. Would it be because of my mom’s words?

You are doing it to punish yourself for losing her, I recall her nearly shouting a few minutes ago.

And I think Mom is right. Losing Petra will mean I failed—I failed to love her with commitment and care, and that is something for which I can’t forgive myself.

All of a sudden, I hear a few knocks on the door, and despite not responding, the door slams wide open. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I roll my eyes upon hearing that voice. “Yara, what are you doing here?”

But Yara just rushes in my direction until she stands beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Your little sister here has got this.” I ignore her pathetic remark but glare at her unsolicited arm on me. “She’s staying at the Breitner House with Emma.”

Since her arm is still hanging around my shoulders, I push it away. “You might want to share this info with Mom. She was the one asking about it.”

“Are you brooding?” she teases with a pouting face to make fun of me.

“Always so funny, huh?”

“Oh, relax, she’ll be back.” I’m not sure if my sister is saying that just to reassure me or if she truly means it. “If Petra doesn’t come back by Friday, I’ll personally drag her to the wedding.”

“I appreciate the gesture. But there is no need,” I snap back, my eyes still glued on the outdoors.

“Of course there is no need. I’m sure you’ll personally go there and drag her yourself.”

“What?” I turn to her, giving her a confused look. Is she joking right now? Is it some sort of sarcasm I failed to grasp? “I won’t drag anyone, no.”

Yara doesn’t seem to get it. “So what are you gonna do? Are you gonna call her to come back or what?”

A gush of air rolls of my lips, my patience with her vanishing. “No, I won’t call her to come back. In fact, I don’t intend to do anything. Can you leave me alone now?”

“Why not?” Jeez! She can be so freaking annoying. “You both love each other. You are meant for each other.” She then points at me, and adds sounding demanding, “And you are meant to marry her this weekend.”

Shaking my head at her idiotic insistence, I turn to look her in the eye, but as I do so, her words sink into me, and instead of telling her to go, I find myself saying, “Or maybe I was just meant to love her. Not to marry her.”