“You know that’s not possible.” It hurts like hell to smash her hopes and watch her smile fade away. “Your dad is looking forward to you going back to Park Avenue.”
Blowing out a breath, Petra doesn’t hide her discontentment, and her eyes drift away, staring past me at nothing. “Why is Dad so insistent about that?”
“He just wants to spend some time with you,” I tell her. “After six months in a coma, you can’t blame him for that.” But Petra is not naive. She can see through me like no one else, even if she doesn’t say a thing about it. In an attempt to reassure her, I add, “We can spend the weekends together.”
“We are in the twenty-first century. Couples live together even before getting married,” she points out. “I can see him from time to time.”
The last thing I need is another fight with Roy. After all the arguments we’ve already had since Petra woke up, my friendship with him is within a hairsbreadth of falling apart. “Look, once we are married, we’ll live every single day together,” I tell her, sounding as confident as I can. “Just enjoy your last months there.”
Petra takes a mouthful of her food and keeps quiet while chewing. Then she drinks a bit of her juice, still considering my advice. “Alright,” she mumbles, her gaze on mine. “I guess I can survive a few months there.”
We exchange a quick smile, and I reach for her hand, giving it a kiss. “I truly appreciate the sacrifice, Miss Van Gatt.” My tone is sarcastic, and she plays along.
“I hope so.”
The sound of her laughter is enough to fill me with joy.
Regardless of what the future holds for us, a part of me still believes I will marry her.
Fuck, what a fucking mess I’ve gotten myself into…
But my critical thinking and rational minds pull me back to reality— they know very well my time with her is limited. And the more I look into her big blue eyes, the more I know I’ve got to accept it—with Miss Van Gatt, there’s only a present, not a future.
Chapter 5
Manhattan, September 8, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
After over ten days in upstate New York, I find myself stepping into the hallway of my home on Park Avenue. And without Cynthia’s help or a walker. Nope. I can’t really do much more, and it still hurts when I bend my legs, but being able to put one foot in front of the other on my own is already a big victory for me. Although I love Bedford Hills, especially for its fresh air, green scenery, and quiet surroundings, being back in the house where I grew up brings a wave of memories that feel so old and distant, and yet some are no older than a year. With twenty minutes left before the beginning of my first online course, I can’t help but sneak into my bedroom to have a look. The place is immaculate—Janine must come here often to clean the dust. Then I step into my closet and find all the clothes I wore the past year, perfectly stowed. Even my white dress is here too… A quick sigh escapes me at the sight of it.
“Hey, Miss Van Gatt,” Janine greets me, entering the room. “So good to see you here.”
“Hey, good morning,” I reply. “I see you’ve been taking great care of this place. Thanks.”
“This place, Miss…” She lets her words trail off as she steps closer to me. Then Janine glances around, taking in our surroundings. “…is your bedroom. And no matter what happens, it will always be yours.” Her tone carries some sort of nostalgia that I know all too well.
Her expression becomes melancholic as she ruminates about something. And I can’t help but ask, “Are you alright?”
Janine dips her head in embarrassment, and she quickly wipes something away. “I… Oh, it’s nothing, Miss. Don’t worry,” she mumbles, twisting her apron.
Holding her arms, I try to meet her gaze and insist, “Of course not, tell me.”
Her eyes lock with mine for a second before they survey the room once more. And I’ve got the sensation she’s hesitating whether to open up or not. “It’s just… it’s just so weird that you’re engaged and no longer living here. I never thought the day I would no longer wake you up and prepare your avocado toast would come so soon.”
A quick laugh rolls off my lips, and I say, “If it reassures you, Dad wants me to stay here until I’m married, so you might have more avocado toasts and matcha teas to prepare.”
Janine throws me a grin full of empathy that warms up my heart. “Oh, well, I don’t think Mr. Van Gatt is ready to see his daughter leave him so soon. Who can blame him?”
“I know…” My lips curving up, I recall everything Dad has done for us and how he even agreed to come to the engagement party. And while I’d rather have moved in with Alex, we both need my Dad’s support more than ever. “Dad’s been so incredible and supportive,” I tell her. “I never thought he’d be like that.”
“He loves you a lot.” Janine has such a sweet, friendly voice that I can’t help but smile again. “Not many parents would’ve done the same,” she says. “I know my dad for sure would’ve kicked me out of his household if I didn’t end the relationship.”
Wow, that sounds quite excessive. But I guess in a way she’s right—not everyone is as lucky to have a dad that is so tolerant. I know if I had been living with Mom, things would’ve been pretty different. Then, curiosity getting the best of me, I ask, “Did you, um, did you know about us from the beginning?”
“Since the day you spoke to your dad, yes,” she admits.
“Oh…” My brows lift instantly in surprise. “Nothing escapes you.”
“Not much, I have to admit.”
After a brief silence, I decide to invite her to the engagement party Alex and I will be hosting. “It’d mean a lot if you could come,” I add.
“It’ll be a pleasure, Miss,” she replies just as fast. And I’m positively surprised at how easily she accepted. “I’ll be there, but I want to give a hand to that Dutch lady.” Janine steps a bit closer to me, and, lowering her voice, she says, “She is so kind, but so shy. Jeez, that woman barely speaks.”
I chuckle briefly at her comment. “Yeah, Maria doesn’t speak English well, I think.”
“She’s so discreet,” Janine blurts out. “You can barely hear her breathing.”
I couldn’t agree more with her. Since the day I met Maria, I’ve always thought how different she is from Janine. “Yeah, Margaret’s staff is like that too.”
“Margaret?” Janine asks.
And I remember I never told her who Margaret is. “Alex’s Mom.”
“Oh, you’ve already met her?”
“Yeah, I spent Christmas with his family,” I tell her, even though it’s not usual for me to be so open about my future in-laws.
“And how is she?” Oh, the question! How does someone describe Margaret Van Dieren? Damn, Janine can be so curious. The differences between her and the silent Maria couldn’t be more obvious.
“Um… I guess, interesting…” I tell her, keeping it short.