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“Hallo, Mrs. Bakker, Bertrand.” She gestured vaguely at the throng of reporters that persisted on hanging outside the gates. “Sorry about that.”
“We’ve never let such things bother us,” the housekeeper dismissed, and the butler affirmed this with a regal nod.
About to step inside the chalet, Anneke hesitated. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that some of the reporters were beginning to feel the cold, rubbing their hands and shifting on their feet to keep themselves warm.
Anneke turned back to the housekeeper, asking uncertainly, “Perhaps we could give them hot chocolate?”
“You’re too nice,” Mrs. Bakker sniffed. “But if you insist.”
The butler shut the doors closed as soon as they stepped inside, and Anneke sighed in relief at the hallowed silence that welcomed them. Looking around, she could feel herself relaxing even more at the familiar sight of her surroundings. Opulent the twenty-foot chandelier may be and however grandiose the living room was –it was still home.
And right now, she badly needed to feel she had a place where she belonged, a place she could always run to –
Like she once had, when the man she loved had thrown her away.
“Your luggage is presently being delivered to your room,mevrouw.”
The butler’s words drew her attention back to the present, and she smiled gratefully at Bertrand. “Thank you for always being so attentive, Bertrand.”
“It is our honor to be of service,mevrouw.” Bertrand nodded at the housekeeper, and it was only then that Mrs. Bakker spoke again.
“Would you care for some tea before retiring,mevrouw?”
“Yes, please. I’ll have it in the morning room, if that’s okay.”
The housekeeper bustled off to the kitchen, and after escorting her to the living room, Bertrand left her as well. In a blink of an eye, she was alone again, and Anneke unconsciously rubbed her arms, thinking that the silence around her didn’t feel as comforting when she was alone.
Lowering herself to one end of the couch, she pulled her legs up, tucking them under her chin. She hugged herself, but the cold persisted—-
And she soon realized that there was no escaping it, since the cold came from within.
Memories started to drift back—-
No. No. No.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
She didn’t want to remember. Didn’teverwant to remember.
But neither her mind nor her heart cared to listen.
Images gradually came to life in her thoughts.
Of an eighteen-year-old Marcus giving her one unforgettable summer—-
Of an adult Marcus, losing himself in the ecstasy of Anneke pleasuring him with her mouth—-
And of Marcus,her husband,walking out on her.
The images tore her apart—-
Over and over and over.
When her phone started to ring, Anneke didn’t even have to look at it to know thathewas calling her. Even though she had his number blocked, even though she had changed her number for good measure – she was sure of it.
And how laughably stupid was that?
How could she be so foolishly certain of some things about him butnoteven see the breakdown of her marriage coming?
