by Marian Tee
Her gently spoken words drifted into his mind, and each word hurt.
You have no need to explain.
The words tormented him, and he choked out, “I’m sorry.” He stared at her desperately, willing her to believe in him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when I should have been. You were the only girl I loved. The only girl I have ever loved---”
He watched her lips part at his words. “Issac.”
“I’ve never stopped thinking about you, and Natalia – somehow she knew.” He swallowed hard. “She probably set this whole thing up, thinking that I’d lose interest in you the moment I saw you, but---” A grim expression settled on Issac’s face. “I’m no longer the idiot I was four years back.”
He gazed at Ilse, his beautiful, kind Ilse, and his heart ached so damn bad that it was barely able to keep beating.
“You probably don’t need to hear this,” Issac said unevenly, “but I’m damn proud of what you’ve become.”
Ilse’s lips started to tremble.
“You’re a good sister to Jan, and if your parents could talk to you now, I k-know…I know they’d tell you the same thing. That you did them proud---”
She didn’t say anything as her hands went up to cover her mouth.
But in her eyes, he saw what she wanted to say.
Thank you.
Her hands slowly lowered, and he saw a smile start to tremble on her lips. Her unspoken words reached him like she had whispered it straight to his heart.
I forgive you.
His head lowered as her words washed over him, cleansing him, healing him.
God.
He had never even let himself hope for her forgiveness, but he should have known it would be this simple and easy.
Because she was Ilse.
“When we were sixteen,” Issac heard himself say, “I wanted to tell you something, but I didn’t have the right word then.”
“Are you saying,” she teased shakily, “it took you almost seven years to find it?”
Yes, he thought. It had taken him seven years to find the right word…because it had taken him the same seven years to find the courage to say---
“Ethereal,” he said rawly.
Issac raised his head, and his gaze met hers unwaveringly.
“That was what I wanted to say to you then.”
Ethereal because she was like an angel---
Ethereal because she had always seemed too perfect for this world---
And she still did.
She was and would always be ethereal to him because Ilse was his first love.
His only love.
Chapter 10
The rusty bells hanging on the door chimed in welcome as Ilse walked inside Byron & Company, a bookstore-cum-café that took up ground floor space of one of RLD’s oldest buildings. Open twenty-four hours, the store had become a refuge of sorts for Ilse, and right now she needed that.
Mr. Peters, the gray-haired shop owner, looked up from behind the register the moment she entered, and he nodded curtly to her in greeting. “Done with the tours?” he questioned with a grunt.
“Ja, mijnheer.” She didn’t mind his gruff tone at all, knowing that under the tough, wizened exterior was a lovely man who preferred to spend most of his time with books because he didn’t know how to make friends.
“A new Austen edition arrived,” he informed her.
Ilse perked up. “I’ll check it out.”
He grunted.
“Thanks for telling me!”
But Mr. Peters had already turned his back on her, having gone back to reviewing the receipts in his hands.
Ilse took her time strolling down the aisle, her gaze drifting from one tall, wooden bookshelf to another. By the time she reached the classics section, she heard the bells chime out once more and wondered absently about what kind of person would have a need to visit a bookstore in RLD at two in the morning.
Maybe that person was like her, unable to find escape in sleep.
Or maybe she was being too fanciful, and the newcomer only wanted a cup of coffee.
Taking a left on the last aisle, she immediately spotted the new book Mr. Peters had spoken of. There you are, Ilse thought. As she reached for the book with the pretty floral cover, she caught a glimpse of the shadow moving on the carpet.
The newcomer, Ilse realized absently. And judging by the look and length of it, Mr. Peters’ customer was a rather tall man. How surprising. Majority of De Wallen’s tourists might be males, but book shopping was unlikely on top of their priorities.
Walking away, Ilse concentrated on perusing the book, running her fingers over the embossed book jacket to have a feel of its texture. Pausing midway to the register, she was in the act of slipping the jacket off to check the book’s actual cover when she realized that she was being followed.
Ilse frowned. Go away, pervert.
But the shadow behind her remained.
She took several steps forward and almost stiffened when the shadow moved as well.
Her gaze flew to Mr. Peters, but the old man once again had his back to her and appeared completely engrossed with his bookkeeping.
Ilse slowly and cautiously took a step forward, and the shadow moved accordingly. She took a step back, and when the shadow retreated as well, Ilse nearly threw her hands up in frustration.
Everything comes in threes, they had said. And she supposed this was her third gift from the department of men trouble. A pervert – or even worse, a stalker – to serve as the cherry on top, following right after Issac, and---
And that was when she sensed it.
Something familiar, a kind of heat that made her heart beat hard and ache at the same time.
The book dropped from her fingers, landing on the carpet in a silent thud.
The shadow started to move.
And she knew.
And didn’t know what to do.
“Jaak.” His name tumbled down her tongue, and when the shadow came to a sudden stop, it was as if the world had stopped turning with it.
“Ilse.”
Even though she had expected to hear it, the way the sound of his voice wrapped around her senses still made Ilse’s eyes drift close for a moment.
Jaak.
Jaak was here.
Jaak was really here.
She wanted to turn around so she could look at him, but her legs simply refused to move. She wanted to say so many things, but her throat refused to work. The only thing in her body that functioned right now was her heart, and only because it was still hurting.
Tension tightened into a painful knot in the billionaire’s chest as he stared at Ilse’s still form. He used to live his life without uncertainties, but now he knew it wasn’t like that at all. He had never hesitated on anything because he had never cared enough.
But now he did, and now he had no fucking idea what was the right thing to do.
Do I go to you, Ilse?
Do I wait for you?
Do I walk away?
But then she started to move, away from him---
And the billionaire acted without thinking, spurred only by one simple, essential thought.
He could not lose her again.
“Wait.” The word seemed to arrest her on the spot, and he was glad for it. He moved towards her, and she remained still.
And when their eyes met, their worlds started to turn again, softly, slowly, in unison, almost as if it was the way it should be.
Jaak. Jaak. Jaak. His name played over and over in Ilse’s mind as the billionaire filled her vision. He looked as sophisticated as always, with a black topcoat over his suit and his hand-stitched leather shoes sporting fancy, intricate lines on the edges.
He looked the same, but he also looked different, his handsome face marked with unusual lines of tension.
And as she stared at him, Ilse realized belatedly that he had been doing the same. “I must look like a fright,” Ilse muttered, thinking of how she only had her old tattered parka ov
er the nurse’s uniform and her only pair of boots. She tried not to be self-conscious about it, but it was hard. In all the days he had been gone, it was impossible not to let news of the billionaire get to her, and she had known he had been with women far, far more glamorous than she could ever be.
“Are you fishing for compliments?” The billionaire had wanted the words to come out a relaxed, teasing drawl, but he realized too late that he had overestimated his ability to remain in control.
Tension still managed to permeate his tone, and his question came out more abruptly and sharply than he intended. When he saw Ilse jerk, his fists clenched and he cursed in his mind at how he was fucking it all up.
“I’m sorry,” he said tautly. “I didn’t mean to sound offensive.”
“But you were.” Ilse’s tone was flat.
“Because you’re an idiot---”
She gasped, and this time he cursed out loud.
He was supposed to be the most dazzlingly charming of all the de Konigh men, and yet right now all he could do was insult Ilse and say one wrong fucking thing after another.
Jaak shoved his hands into his coat’s pockets. “I’m sorry.” And still the words came out harshly.
“You don’t sound like it,” Ilse accused.
“Because,” he snarled, “I feel too much, and it’s making it impossible to think.” When Ilse’s eyes widened, he knew he had shocked her, and he almost laughed, thinking, You and me, babe. You and me. He had never imagined that things could get this complicated, this deep, but it was, and even so---
He slowly took a step forward, his chest squeezing as he gave her all the time of the world to run away from him.
But she didn’t.
“Ilse.” He spoke her name hoarsely, and ah God, just saying it already felt too much, felt like it was more than he deserved. But even knowing that, he just couldn’t let go.
“I fucked up,” he said unevenly. “You were saying things that I didn’t want to hear. You were forcing me to think of things I didn’t want to think, and I fucked up. It was like being struck by temporary insanity---” He waited for her to say something, but she only gazed at him with brown eyes that seemed too painfully bright, and Jaak sucked in his breath.
Am I too late, Ilse?
Am I no longer someone you can trust?
Am I supposed to walk away?
And just when he thought it was the end, he heard her speak.
“Are you sure it’s temporary?” A smile wobbled on her lips as she delivered the joke in an unwieldy tone that cracked just a little at the end, but still she didn’t look away from him, her too-bright eyes answering all his unspoken questions.
No, you’re not too late.
I still trust you.
And I don’t want you to walk away.
Chapter 11
For a few minutes, there was only the sound of raindrops gently falling against the black umbrella the billionaire held over them, mingling with the occasional splash under their shoes. They walked close to each other, close enough to touch, but somehow they managed to keep apart, that one last inch of space between them defined by a myriad of emotions that both of them still had to unravel and resolve.
But even so, it was okay.
They both knew it was okay, and they had all the time in the world to make sense of what it meant to be together.
As they turned around the corner, the billionaire’s need to speak suddenly became irrepressible, and he thought, what the hell.
“I suppose you’re---”
“How did you know---”
Jaak and Ilse broke off the moment they realized they had been speaking at each other the same time. Their gazes collided, his blue eyes wry, her brown ones rueful, and the slightest of smiles slowly formed on their lips.
The billionaire inclined his head. “Ladies first.”
Ilse said simply, “I think you can guess what I want to ask.”
And it has begun, Jaak thought self-mockingly. He had seen his brothers grovel, and they had done so quite admirably. He could only hope that he could do half as good as them.
His gaze returning to hers unflinchingly, he said quietly, “I came looking for you at your office, and Gloria told me where I could find you...among other things.”
“I s-see.” He had come looking for her at the office? Why? But then the rest of his words penetrated her mind, and Ilse’s gaze shot up to his at its possible ramifications.
Easily interpreting the stunned, wary look in her eyes, he said quietly, “Yes. I know.”
“About everything?”
“I know about Issac, Natalia…”
Ilse didn’t know how to react at hearing the billionaire speak of names that should only have mattered to her. He knew. He knew. But if she thought that was the worst, she was wrong.
“Ilse---” And when she looked up at him, he said flatly, “I know everything.”
And she knew he was talking about Jan.
“My boss has a b-big mouth.” He knew, he knew. The realization made her feel exposed and vulnerable, and Ilse was at a loss. So what now? Where did they go from here?
“Ilse---”
She knew she should look at him, but she couldn’t. Just his tone alone told her what he intended to speak of, and she really didn’t want to hear it.
“When we were apart, I tried my damnedest to forget---”
She cut him off, saying his name unevenly. “Jaak.” Without meeting his eyes, she said, “I know, too.” When he didn’t say anything right away, she made herself look up, not wanting him to think she was blaming him. “And I get it. You didn’t owe me anything. We weren’t---”
That she was trying to find a way to stop him from feeling bad made the billionaire’s jaw tighten. God. He didn’t really deserve her at all. “I’m sorry.” Harsh regret underlined his tone.
“It’s okay.” She tried to make a joke of it, saying, “If I could, I w-would’ve done the same.” But the way her voice trembled made everything a lie.
“No.” The billionaire’s smile was grim. “You wouldn’t have.” Her pain-clouded eyes clashed with his, and he asked hoarsely, “And do you know why that is?”
She shook her head.
“Because the woman I love…”
Ilse stared at him in shock.
“---isn’t the kind to be as weak as I had been.”
“J-Jaak…” Her voice came out a choked whisper.
His hands shook as he carefully tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. “The woman I love wouldn’t have been an idiot.”
Ilse almost swayed on her feet. “W-what are you saying?”
But he only looked at her, saying without speaking that she knew – they both knew she knew what he had said.
“I was there the whole time, you know.” His voice was deliberately casual, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes at all. At her bemused look, he said, “When Issac spoke to you---”
Ilse stumbled to a stop, thinking that she might never get used to the billionaire speaking of names that should have been buried in the past. “I don’t understand.”
“I was there,” he said flatly, “when he called you ethereal.”
“What?”
“I heard him all the way to the end, when he told you he would break off his engagement, no matter what.”
“Oh my God.” Ilse shook her head dazedly. “I can’t believe you were there the entire time.”
“You probably didn’t notice,” he murmured, “because you were too shocked at seeing your first love.”
She choked and laughed, but she didn’t say a word. She might be reeling right now, but she wasn’t stupid, and she refused to take the bait even though she knew what the billionaire wanted to hear was most likely the truth was well.
Issac was not her first love.
But if he wanted to hear that, he only had to ask.
The reproachful look Ilse gave him made the billionaire grimace, and he didn’t even think of pretending he didn
’t understand why she was looking at him that way. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be. It’s just that you’re used to playing games---” Ilse shrugged awkwardly. “And I’m not.”
“You don’t have to be so polite.” He laughed humorlessly. “You were right about me from the start. I have too many damn secrets---”
Ilse flinched. “I’m sorry.” And because she couldn’t bear it, she added in a rush, “I realize now I might have been a little harsh---”
“You only spoke the truth. I was pretending the entire time---”
Unable to bear the way he was mocking himself, she pressed her fingers to his lips without thinking, and the billionaire stopped speaking.
Their gazes collided, and the way his blue eyes stared so intensely at her threatened to make her lungs stop working.
Oh, Jaak.
“I had secrets, too,” she whispered shakily. “And I used to pretend, too.” A tremulous smile touched her lips. “It’s why I knew you had them, it’s why I knew you were pretending, and it’s why---”
Her fingers slowly lowered from his lips.
“I wanted to help you with them.” She swallowed. “I wanted you in my life, Jaak, and that’s why I wanted to help you face them. Every time I looked at you, I saw the way those secrets were hurting you---”
The billionaire whitened.
“And I just thought…at least with me, you wouldn’t need to keep secrets or pretend---”
Ah, God. He had gotten her so damn wrong, and yet she was still here.
“I just wanted to take the pain away…” Her voice trailed off, and Ilse wondered if she had said too much again.
And then she heard the billionaire say, “Thank you, Ilse.”
Oh.
Her head jerked up.
And the billionaire said again, “Thank you.”
He looked at her, and he knew it was too late for both of them.
“Y-you would have done the same to me.”
He didn’t say anything, unwilling to shatter her illusions of him. Love was like poison in the heart, and he was poisoned, with the way his heart could stop and start beating at just one word from Ilse.
Her brown eyes clung to his, and the poison in his heart grew, spreading from one heartbeat to another, rising and falling with every breath one took, swaying from pain to joy with a single glance.
