Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins

Chapter 23

Dieren, December 3, 2020

Alexander Van Dieren

I used to love sleeping alone. Jeez, how many times did I make excuses in order to avoid having to stay overnight with someone. Even with Amanda, we used to live together only a week per month since she was living in New York and I used to spend most of my time in Amsterdam. I remember how she wanted to follow me and pack her stuff to move to the other side of the Atlantic just because I was there. For her, it was a no-brainer. For me, it was a big issue. I loved our long-distance relationship, seeing her only when I was in New York and living my life in Amsterdam as I wanted was perfect for me. But now as I look to my right side—to the empty side of my bed—it simply means that Petra hasn’t returned, and I despise this reality above anything else. What I wouldn’t give to have her here, peacefully asleep beside me like before. Will she really cancel the wedding because I didn’t tell her the whole truth about Janette’s death? No, that’s impossible. The fact that she cares so much about it is beyond my comprehension. Yet, here we are, two days from our wedding, and she hasn’t said a single word since she left. As I leap off of the bed, I check my iPhone and my heart dies a little more at the confirmation she hasn’t texted. Should I say something? Even just hello? No, she made it clear she wanted to be left alone; I’ll be the last person not respecting her choice. Jeez, as I think of it, I can really call it karma. I never wanted to get married to anyone, and now that I changed my mind on the subject, the woman I want to marry is no longer sure about it. Yeah, what a fucking bitch karma is. I head for a quick shower before going downstairs to have breakfast and work a bit.

Speaking of work, since Petra will officially become a member of the board on Sunday, regardless if the marriage happens or not, I will have to see her at least three times a year for the board meetings. Jeez, and if that wasn’t enough, she will most likely attend all the social events and dinners Gatt-Dieren hold every year. I shouldn’t be thinking about it like this… I’m certain she will come back before Saturday.

With my laptop in hand, I heard over to the petit salon and sit on the coziest armchair while Stuart is starting a fire to warm up the room. All of a sudden though, my iPhone starts ringing, and as I look at the name of the caller, uneasiness settles into me. I stand up and walk to the farthest corner of the room before picking up the call. “You shouldn’t call my number,” I say just above a whisper as I stand far enough from Stuart.

“I’m back in Amsterdam!” Dad sounds like those kids going to Disney for the first time and screaming at their buddies about it. “I can’t believe my son is getting married on Saturday. How are you feeling about the whole thing? Are you stressed? Anxious? Sad? Happy?”

“Dad…” I say, aiming for him to stop his over-the-top excitement.

“Hey, do you think I can take you and Petra to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“Are you crazy? I can’t be seen with you,” I remind him, glancing around the room to make sure no one is listening. “You are not supposed to be here. I promised I would get you inside the venue, and that’s it.”

“Okay, so what’s the plan?”

“Tomorrow evening I will take you to the castle, and you will sleep there. The staff is aware of your presence, so they will bring you food.”

“Okay, and during the wedding can I come down?”

“If you want to be kicked out of the property by security, by all means,” I tell him, since I know they will operate under my mom’s supervision. “Petra and I will come upstairs and take a picture with you.” If she decides to attend her own wedding in the first place that is.

“Isn’t there a way you can talk some sense into your mom so she can let me attend the ceremony?”

“Mom wants you dead, Dad.” I don’t mince my words because he should know better by now. “Should I remind you under which conditions you are still alive?”

I hear a gush of air rolling off his lips before he mutters, “Fucking crazy bitch…” which is understandable since he’s already breaking those conditions by being here in the Netherlands. “Believe me, there isn’t a day that passes by without me thinking about it.”

I close my eyes for an instant as I let his words sink into me. I’m not sure what I hate the most: the fact he’s putting his life at risk to attend my wedding or the fact there might not even be one to begin with.

“I know…” I mumble. “That day was just as horrible for you as it was for me.”

“Bullshit,” he spits out. “You couldn’t have cared less. No one was there for me, no one!”

“Now I do,” I riposte. But the truth is, during their divorce, not many people sided with Dad. When the story of his bastard went public, those who didn’t depend on him simply stopped talking to him, and those who did, Mom made sure to change their allegiance. And while all my sisters supported Mom, I tried to remain somewhat neutral, which was almost impossible given the circumstances. “The humiliation you went through that day is not something I’d wish upon even my worst enemy.” I pause for a beat before saying, “Yet you managed to built yourself a new life in Bermuda with a woman that suits you way better than Mom. Don’t risk your life just for a ceremony.” As I hear Dad exhaling loudly, I know he’s pondering my words. “Stay upstairs, alright? Petra and I will come to see you ,and we’ll spend time together, I promise.”

“Well, I hope your marriage will be better than mine. Although that’s not too hard to achieve.”

“I hope so too. See you tomorrow.” And I hang up.

I close my eyes for a moment and rub my eyelids, trying to destress from this whole thing. I just hope Dad won’t behave like a fool and show up uninvited among the guests. Then I go and sit again on the armchair, the fireplace burning brightly not too far from it. I open my laptop and check the latest report Paulo sent me about our growth in Singapore.

“Did she tell you anything yet?” Mom steps into the petit salon, her voice startling me, as I wasn’t expecting having company so soon.

My gaze follows her figure across the room, strutting with a clear purpose, before it returns to my laptop. “Good morning, Mom.”

She huffs at my greeting, ignoring it. “So? Is she coming back or not? The wedding is supposed to be in two days.”

There’s nothing worse than hearing her obnoxious tone at eight in the morning. “She hasn’t said anything yet.”

“Then call her,” she insists.

My eyes remain pinned on the screen as I keep reading the report. “Not a chance,” I reply, hoping she will leave the room once and for all.

“Why not?”

Blowing out a breath at her insistence, I find myself regretting coming downstairs. I should’ve locked myself in my study instead. “Because she’s the one who decided to leave,” I answer simply, my attention never leaving the screen. “I’m not here to pressure anyone to be with me.”

“Calling to ask how the person we love is doing has nothing to do with pressure, Alexander.”

“Yara told me she was doing well. Now if you don’t mind, I have some work to do.” I look at her with annoyance, hoping she’ll understand I want to be left alone.

“Fine,” Mom spits out. She walks back toward the door, but, for some reason, stops mid-way. “Don’t forget we have a meeting with Yara and Julia this evening.”

“I know. Julia called me yesterday to make sure that I attend.”

“Did she tell you what it’s about?” Mom asks.

“Who knows, but it seems important, at least for them,” I reply.

“Alex, you realize that tomorrow if Petra is not here, we will have to cancel the wedding, right?”

Jeez, it’s unbelievable how persistent and insufferable she can be when something is not going her way. “I already told you what I will do.”

“Your pride is blinding you,” Mom chides. “And it’s leading you down a path of self-destruction.”

“Weren’t you so willing for me to marry, huh?” I snap, closing my laptop and standing up. “I don’t get why you aren’t happy now.” After all, during the ten years I was with Amanda, Mom never stopped giving me unsolicited advice about my relationship, which, given her failed marriage, was quite hilarious. “Don’t you want to have grandkids from my side?”

“Oh, this is sickening…” She looks away, shaking her head. “You need help, and it’s definitely not gonna be fixed by marrying a woman that you don’t love.”

I ignore her. At this point, I’m done arguing with her. Nothing has changed in this house; there will always be arguments and drama no matter what. I get up and leave the room and head back upstairs to my study without a word, just like Dad used to when he was living here.