by Marian Tee
But then she would wake up, and he would see in her sleepy brown eyes that he had nothing to worry about.
He could love her. He could need her. He could trust her.
Because Ilse was Ilse, and she was strong enough not to need him.
It only took a week for Ilse and the billionaire to come to an agreement over what would be the perfect house for them: an 18th century historic mansion that offered canal views, a fountained garden bordered by tall ivy-covered hedges, and a central location in Mokkum.
On their initial visit, it had been obvious to the billionaire that Ilse had fallen in love with the place at first sight, and when he had murmured huskily in his very best Queen’s English voice, “The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor—-”
Ilse had spun around to face him, so fast she had almost lost her balance, and the sight of the stars in her eyes had made him laugh.
And then she had breathed, “Pemberley,” and the billionaire laughed harder. She was looking at him like he was a god, something he knew she would probably regret later on, and the thought was both amusing and arousing because there were few things that looked lovelier than an irritated Ilse.
It had him closing the deal on the spot, and after getting rid of the real estate agent, he had Ilse in his arms and he was kissing her hard.
“Mmph!”
Then he had her turn around, her breasts flat against the wall, her skirt up to her waist, her panties falling around her ankles.
“Oh my God—-aaaah!”
Entering her from behind, he had pounded into her while playing with her clit, and when she began to cry out, the erotic sound had spurred him to move faster while rubbing her clit furiously.
The sex had been fast and furious, and afterwards he had whispered wickedly to her, “Let’s christen the rest of the house.”
An outrageous suggestion, but they had actually managed to accomplish it in just one week.
It was a milestone that the billionaire arrogantly took in stride, but it was one that had Ilse wanting to hang her head in shame. She had never imagined she would be the kind of girl to be so governed by sexual passion, but the billionaire had proven to her she was exactly like that, with her body ready to accept his cock with just one heated look from his brilliant blue eyes.
And that was just one of her many problems.
Jan had adjusted to their now-pampered lifestyle with ease, and it was as it should be. But for Ilse to have it similarly easy was wrong, and every day was a constant struggle to make herself remember that she mustn’t let herself get used to such luxuries.
The new life the billionaire had given her and Jan reminded Ilse too much of their old lives, and it terrified her, so much so that she found herself doing the opposite of what she wanted. Instead, Ilse forced herself to do what she believed she needed to do.
Continuing to put off her studies was one of them, never mind if it broke her heart to do so.
Every day, she would pray that she would not be weak again. Every day, she lived with the quiet fear that life was so good – too, too good, just like how it had been when her parents were alive.
But even as terror continued to eat at her, neither could Ilse help thanking God every day. She had always thanked Him for Jan, and now, she had another reason to thank Him for, and that was Jaak.
Life might not be perfect, and even when there were still words that had to be said, life was still unbelievably good, and she told herself there was no need to hurry.
She had all the time in the world to make Jaak realize how extraordinary he was.
All the time in the world.
But she was wrong.
IT WAS ON CHRISTMAS Eve when everything fell apart in an instant. A drunk driver, a rainy night, and an unconscious, bleeding woman falling out of the backseat of the limousine that had crashed into the trees lining the sidewalk because of the collision: all the elements were there for a perfect whodunit mystery. It would have made a good story...if only it wasn’t reality, and reality didn’t have a way of turning bad to worse.
For three nights, the billionaire and Ilse’s brother kept a bedside vigil while Ilse remained pale and unconscious on the hospital bed. Perhaps if he had been given to wreak vengeance, the billionaire would’ve felt just a bit better. But that opportunity was lost to him forever. The driver of the other car had died on the spot, and a part of the billionaire wanted to rage at the injustice.
Death was too kind for such a man, so why the fuck did God let that man’s suffering end so quickly while Ilse lay trapped in a coma, a cage that could stay keyless for the rest of her life?
A week went by, and the billionaire ceased to care about anything and everything. His mind was completely consumed by the need to pray for just one damn thing.
That Ilse would wake up.
Let Ilse wake up, and everything would be okay again.
Let Ilse wake up, and the worst would be over.
But he was wrong.
On the eighth day of her confinement, Ilse’s eyes fluttered open, and an excruciating sense of joy gripped the billionaire at the sight of Ilse coming to life.
“Jaak?”
“I’m here, babe.”
Her head slowly turned towards him. “Jaak?”
He gripped her hand tightly. “I’m here, babe.”
Her eyes blinked. And blinked and blinked.
“Jaak.” Her voice broke. “I can’t see you.”
And that was when he realized that God had only traded one cage for another. That was when he realized he had been fooling himself all along, thinking he would never have to choose between keeping Ilse...and letting her go, before he failed her.
“Jaak?”
His hand tightened around her, but the moment her fingers started clutching his just as tightly, he had the wildest urge to pull away.
Why, God?
Why?
Ilse wasn’t supposed to fucking need anyone this way.
“Jaak,” she whispered brokenly. “Say something, please.”
But he couldn’t say a fucking word.
Even knowing she was waiting for him to speak—-
Even knowing she needed him to speak—-
Terror consumed him at the thought of how much she would need him, and how he was fucking guaranteed to fail her...just like the way he had failed Willem.
“Jaak. Please.”
Beautiful, strong, kind Ilse.
Why did this have to happen to her?
Why not him?
Why was it never him?
Why did it always have to be his loved ones that ended up hurt and never fucking him?
Chapter Eighteen
Ilse had never thought to wonder what life would be like if she couldn’t see. It just wasn’t a possibility, and even in the times her life had hit rock bottom, the worst thing that she had allowed herself to imagine was that she would die, and no one would look after Jan.
But now that it had happened, Ilse realized that death would have been a mercy.
Jan already had Jaak, and she knew the billionaire would continue to look after her brother even when she was gone.
Death didn’t scare her, but this – this world of darkness that she was now imprisoned in – terrified her, and every second living in it was a desperate, painful struggle. In a world where she would never see the sun rise or set, time had lost all meaning, and she became alone and immortal.
The years might continue to pass her by, but in her mind she would always be twenty-three because it was all she knew.
She could be in a room full of people, and it would be like being haunted by the living. She might hear them, feel them, but because she couldn’t see them, they were nothing but ghosts to her—-
And the billionaire was no different.
With every day that passed, Ilse could feel him drifting further and further away from her, and she just didn’t know what to do.
Stay with me. This wa
s what she wanted to say, but how could she let the words out when she knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear?
That was the funny thing about being blind. It might have taken away her sight, but it had also cursed Ilse with more insight than she wanted. It might have killed her eyes, but it had made her heart beat again, and now there was no hiding from the truth.
She loved him.
She loved Jaak.
She would love him forever, but how could she chain him to her, knowing that she was no longer what he wanted?
Jaak de Konigh wanted a woman who was strong, a woman who would not need him.
And she was no longer either of those.
CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR came and went, the holidays allowing Ilse to continue burying her head under the sand. With Ilse’s friends from Glory Hall and an army of de Konigh relatives visiting frequently, there was no chance for them to talk, and that was how she liked it.
When the doctor suggested that she undergo a series of tests, Ilse had quickly agreed. She knew she was delaying the inevitable, but she didn’t care. The cowardly, secret part of her was willing to do almost anything to stay hospitalized forever.
At least here, she didn’t need to leave. At least here, she could pretend she was receiving treatment that would eventually make her see. At least here, she could pretend everything was still okay between her and the billionaire.
It was almost mid-January when she was finally discharged, and despite Ilse’s insistence that she could manage on her own, the billionaire had still showed up to accompany her on the ride home.
“We can leave anytime we’re ready.”
“I’m definitely ready.”
The words rolled past their lips with ease, and she hated every one of them. It sounded so damn fake, and hadn’t she been the one to promise herself that she would never lie or pretend again?
Ilse sensed the billionaire starting to move, and she managed to keep her smile in place even as she strained her ears for his footsteps.
Where are you? Make noise. Let me know you’re still here.
When fingers suddenly reached for her hand, she couldn’t help jerking, and it was like life laughing at her face, telling herself that no matter how she wished otherwise, she had already become what she most feared.
She was weak...and there was nothing she could do about it.
“I’m sorry.” The billionaire swiftly withdrew his fingers as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
His grim tone made Ilse want to curse herself, and she said in a rush, “You don’t have to be sorry, and you didn’t frighten me. I’m just not used to...”
Being blind.
But she caught herself in time. “Anyway...” She forced a laugh. “I just need to be more sensitive or something.”
Silence.
“I’m going to reach for you now...”
She nodded.
So relax, Ilse. Relax. Please relax so he wouldn’t think you need him any more than you already do.
A moment later, and she felt his touch, fingers once again twining with hers. Another moment, and he was pulling her carefully to her feet. “Shall we go?”
“Okay.”
As he led her out, the painful realization that it might always be like this between them struck her—-
Would they never be able to walk beside each other?
She managed to keep herself from stumbling, managed to keep the fake smile on her lips as she sensed the billionaire’s gaze on hers.
I’m okay, she told herself.
I’m okay. She told herself this repeatedly even as terror closed her throat and breathing once again became a quiet, desperate struggle.
“We’re getting out now.”
“We’re getting inside the car.”
“We’re getting out.”
Ilse knew the billionaire was doing his best, but even so, every word just made it harder and harder for her to breathe. He was acting like he already knew she needed him, and she didn’t know what to do.
As the silence between them continued to ripple with painful tension, she strove to fill it, asking with determined cheer, “Where’s Jan?”
“Just a few steps away. He’s waiting for you by the front door.”
A faint flowery fragrance reached her as they continued to take baby steps towards the house, and Ilse tried to familiarize herself with the scent, knowing that it was coming from their own garden. Scent was a sign of life, and she needed all of these signs to remember that she was alive even when her world felt dead.
“We’re here.” She stilled, and the billionaire’s hands settled on her shoulders as he turned her slightly to the left.
“Welcome back, Ilse!”
Jan’s familiar voice was another sign of life, and her lips curved in a genuine smile. “Jan. I missed you, Jan.” She raised her hand to reach for his face, and he started to laugh when she almost ended up shoving her fingers up his nostrils.
Her smile widened even as she pinched his chubby cheeks. “Stop laughing.”
Jan began to talk, and she breathed a sigh of relief even as she hated herself for wanting the lies and pretenses to continue.
When they made it to the living room, with Ilse seating herself on the couch while Jan paused for breath, the billionaire murmured, “Will you be okay if I leave you with Jan for a moment?”
No. We both know I’m not okay. We both know we’re not okay.
But because she was weak, she only made herself smile again. “Of course.” Her tone was light and teasing, and it was an even bigger lie. “How many times do I have to tell you? My world doesn’t revolve around you, mijnheer.” And while this used to be the truth, it was now the biggest lie of all.
“I just need to get some work done.”
“Of course.”
Silence.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m okay.” But her voice caught, and she heard the billionaire inhale sharply.
She felt him crouching in front of her. “Ilse—-”
She turned her face towards his voice. “I’m okay.” But she was not. “We’re okay.” But they were not. “R-right?”
The billionaire gripped her hands. “Absolutely.” But they both knew they were lying, had been lying from the start.
The only thing they didn’t know was when the lies would end.
The billionaire’s hands slowly loosened its hold on her, and she had the craziest urge to snatch them back. Don’t leave me.
“I’m going now, alright?”
“Alright.” Please don’t leave me.
But he still did.
The hours passed, and when Jan asked her if the billionaire would join them for dinner, Ilse made herself shrug, saying lightly, “He’s very busy with work, I’m afraid.”
“But I want to talk to him about the dog he promised me.”
“Maybe tomorrow, so don’t wait up for him, okay?” Wise words coming from her, but by the time Jan guided her to the bedroom she shared with the billionaire, she ended up ignoring her own advice and waited up for him.
Leaving the door ajar so she could hear his footsteps coming up, Ilse fumbled her way to her writing desk and pulling the drawer open, she took out one of her pens and a blank sheet of paper.
Time continued to crawl past her, and Ilse kept herself awake by writing blindly. She would show it to Jaak later, and she would ask him if it was still legible. Hopefully, it would make him laugh. Hopefully it would lead them to doing other things that involved getting naked.
Hopefully.
Ilse knew she was being foolish and desperate, but she also knew she had nothing to lose. Sex could make them reconnect. Sex could give them the courage to stop lying. Sex could—-
And that was when she felt it.
He was here.
Ilse wasn’t precisely sure if the billionaire was already inside their bedroom. She only knew he was near enough to watch her, and it was all she could do not to stop her hand from moving.
>
He continued to stare at her, and her pen began to scrawl indiscriminately on the paper.
Quertymisdfnagfowersgsg
Misadfnr-udsf03
$02nivniit
She felt the billionaire start to retreat, turning away from her slowly, and it was all she could do not to lose her grip on her pen.
She had to keep writing. She had to keep pretending. She had to keep lying.
She had to, so that if the billionaire ever thought of glancing back—-
He wouldn’t know that she knew he had chosen to leave her...again.
When the billionaire finally came back to her side, Ilse had already fallen asleep in their bed, and she woke gradually to his touch. “J-Jaak?”
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
She turned towards his voice, could sense him seated at the edge of their bed. “What time is it?” she asked groggily.
“Time for you to decide where you want to have brunch,” the billionaire answered mildly. “Do you want me to send up a tray for you or do you feel like going down?”
“I’ll just shower and then I’ll go down.” She paused then said very casually, “What time did you come up?”
“I didn’t at all.”
Ah. She pretended to rub her eyes, but really, it was just so she could give herself time.
“Too much work.”
Liar.
Liar.
Liar.
And yet it was only the first of many other excuses, the first of many nights that they wouldn’t touch.
Chapter Nineteen
Jaak left on her third day home, citing an emergency at work, and Ilse bid him goodbye cheerfully, telling him not to worry about her. Her blindness shouldn’t keep him from working, she had told him, and it was essential they started acting like normal. The billionaire had been swift to agree, and she had been just as swift to pretend she hadn’t noticed the relief in his voice.
While he was away, the billionaire had arranged for Ilse to meet with various specialists, some of whom he had even flown from other parts of the world. And yet the prognosis remained the same from all of them.
