Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 27
Dieren, December 5, 2020
Alexander Van Dieren
It’s six a.m., and I can’t sleep any further. I switch sides in my bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. Despite my many attempts, the meeting with Mom and my sisters is still haunting me. And if I’m not thinking about it, I think about Sebastian and his stupid question, “Are you gonna denounce us if she asks you to?”
Denouncing my own mother and sisters? No, I would never do such a thing. And I hope Petra will never have the audacity to ask me to. Yet, Sebastian seems to believe otherwise. Needless to say, after twenty-three years of friendship and twenty years as my brother-in-law, this is not something I expected from him. As I come to think of it, if there’s one person who would’ve preferred Amanda over Petra to be my wife, it’s him. Maybe I should’ve picked Elliot as my best-man instead of Sebastian given the fact he isn’t very fond of her. I close my eyes trying to relax and fall asleep again.
“No more lies. No more secrets. And no more death,” Petra’s voice resonates through me and reminds me that those three requests were a pre-condition for her to forgive me. What a fucking idiot I was to accept them so easily. Well, I guess in a way Sebastian was right: with Amanda I was always in control, and this type of situation would’ve never happened. Amanda was a forgiving person; she could protest a bit, but at the end of the day, she would get along with it. What if I had said no to those requests? Would it mean Petra would’ve canceled the wedding? What she did, in a way, could even be considered emotional manipulation; she left me a few days before our wedding without saying a word and came back at the very last minute with a bunch of requests like she’s doing me a favor. That is something Mom used to do when she wouldn’t get things her way. She’d leave for a week and come back once certain conditions were met. She knew Dad was extremely enamored of her, and it was a weakness she didn’t stop exploiting. No wonder their relationship ended pretty badly.
Since falling asleep is a failed mission, I leap off of the bed and go to take a shower. In the bathroom, I stand in front of the sinks and splash some fresh water on my face. As I look at myself in the mirror for a sec, I can’t help but notice the emerging fine lines on my forehead and around my eyes. Fuck, I’m being way too paranoid. Pushing those thoughts away, I jump into the shower, but instead of feeling excited for today, I feel rather apprehensive. I wonder how Dad felt on his wedding day. Did he feel his marriage wouldn’t last? Was he happy or rather anxious? They say your wedding day is one of the happiest days of your life, and I wonder if he or Roy still believe so even after their divorce.
After showering, I grab a sweater and a pair of jeans and head downstairs to greet the staff, which at this hour, they must all be having breakfast in the kitchen.
“Oh,” I halt upon seeing Mom alone in the kitchen, sitting at the table and watching some photos on an album. “I didn’t know you were already awake.”
She looks up at me from behind her glasses and gives me a morning smile. “I found an old album with some pictures of you and your Dad when you were just six.”
Well, what a coincidence. I return the smile, intrigued. “Really?” I say as I walk toward her, pulling a chair to sit beside her. My eyes lay on a photo where Dad was holding me on a pony as I was trying out horseback riding for the first time. I was all equipped, even with a helmet bigger than myself.
“Remember your first time in Marbella?” Mom points to another photograph where it’s me, my sisters, and some other kids I don’t recognize at the beach, when Yara was just one year old. “You were only six, yet you were already surrounded by girls constantly.”
“Yara doesn’t seem very happy about it,” I observe.
“I think she was just jealous that her brother was always paying more attention to the other girls.”
“Was I?” I ask, not remembering much of that summer.
“Well, it was her first time at the beach, and you spent the whole afternoon making sand castles with them. Your poor sister didn’t know how to grab your attention, so she kept crying and crying.”
A smile tugs on my lips recalling many times that Yara threw a tantrum because I wouldn’t give her enough attention.
“Why was she like that though?” I ask. “I remember she always tried to the same things as I. Same hobbies, same sports, same friends…”
“Maybe to spend more time with you. She was the youngest and looked up to you most of the time,” Mom explains. “She was a big admirer of her brother, believe me.” Well, I kinda figured that out when she decided to sneak into parties she wasn’t invited to.
“Do we have some photos where she is not breaking out in tears?”
Mom flickers across the album until she stops at one page. “Look here, she was enchanted.”
As I look at the photo, a quick chuckle escapes me; it’s Yara and I dressed up in Star Wars characters with fake laser swords and capes. She was around six here and I was twelve, needless to say, I imagine I was slightly forced to play with her for the sake of making her happy.
“Oh, and this one.” My gaze follows her finger as she points to one where Yara his hugging me like crazy and I’m not that happy about it, but the joy in her face is priceless. “You guys were such a funny bunch.” Her tone sounds nostalgic, and I can see the glitz in her eyes as she says so. Then she turns to look at me, her lips twisting in a smile as her hand goes and stroke my cheek. “You brought us so much joy.” I mirror her smile at her words. “And a lot of headaches too.” She then turns her attention back to the album and checks the rest of the photos.
“I guess they go hand-in-hand,” I tease. “By the way, um, I have something to ask you.”
The expression in her face switches instantly as she peers again at me. “What is it about?”
“At the last wedding I attended, the groom walked down the aisle with his mom and, um, I found it quite touching.” I pause, gauging her reaction, but there is none. “I know you are quite traditional, but I’d love for us to do the same.”
Mom doesn’t say a word, yet her face glows up like I haven’t seen before. “I’d be honored to do so.” We smile at each other, and I instantly feel more at ease for the ceremony. “I must admit, that’s a much better plan than walking in there on my own.”
“Thanks,” I say, my voice just above a whisper.
“Are you nervous?”
Nervous?Between Tess sending anonymous letters to Jan, my sisters and Sebastian wanting to kill her, and Petra asking me to have nothing to do with it or God knows what she will do, I don’t see how I wouldn’t be. “A bit,” I disclose, knowing my expression has long betrayed me. “Whatever you decide to do with Tess, I can’t be involved in any way. Okay?”
“I know,” Mom answers calmly, the corner of her mouth slightly raising up. “You don’t have to worry about it.” I look into her eyes, trying to discern what she is up to, to no avail. “You might be forty-one, but to me you’ll always be my little boy, and I will always protect you.”