by Marian Tee
There was no guarantee treatments would work, no guarantee her eyes would heal on their own. There was no guarantee they could find a donor who would match her need, no guarantee that even with the perfect match, she could see again.
No guarantee.
And Ilse knew that they were telling her in a roundabout fashion that she could only hope for a miracle.
On the eighth day that the billionaire was away, Jan asked her if Jaak was indeed coming home tomorrow night.
“I’m afraid not,” she answered lightly. “He has a mountain of work to do in Italy.”
Jan frowned. “But he told me he would come home.”
“Did he?”
Silence.
“Jan?”
“Sorry, Ilse.” Jan’s tone was sheepish. “I nodded. I forgot you were blind.”
Ah. “Idiot.” Her voice wobbled, but Ilse’s smile came from her heart. Of course it had to be Jan, she couldn’t help thinking. Of course it had to be Jan who would forget she was now blind because as far as her brother was concerned—-
Blind or not—-
Weak or not—-
Ilse hadn’t changed at all.
She was still his sister.
And he loved her, whatever she may or may not be.
When the billionaire phoned her that night, Ilse was still feeling a little emotional, and for some moments, she only allowed the phone to ring. She couldn’t help comparing her brother to the billionaire, couldn’t help wondering why the billionaire couldn’t love her unconditionally the way Jan did.
Why?
When the billionaire called her for the second time, Ilse forced herself to answer. “Sorry,” she said right away. “I was in the shower.” The words spilled out naturally. She had gotten good at lying lately, and really, how could she not when she had lots of practice with every phone call from the billionaire?
“It’s fine. I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay there.”
“Well...” Injecting a pensive note in her voice, she said slowly, “That depends. Right now, I’m still not sure whether to sue you or not.”
“Pardon?” The billionaire’s tone had become stiff, and Ilse laughed despite herself.
“I’m talking about Jan. Since when did you turn my brother into your unpaid PA? I was talking to him over dinner, and he practically has your entire calendar for the month memorized.”
The billionaire chuckled, and the lazy sound made her fingers tighten around her iPhone.
It used to be she would hear that sound every day.
But it was different now.
“Don’t be jealous, babe.”
Her eyes squeezed shut.
The last time he had called her that, she still had her sight, and they were still okay.
“Jaak.” His name came out a choking sound. “Come home.”
COME HOME. Ilse’s words reverberated in his mind, and although the billionaire was alone in his hotel suite, it no longer felt that way. Now, it was as if his past was haunting him from every direction, and wherever he looked—-
All he could see was her—-
Ilse dressed like an army sergeant—-
Ilse under the umbrella with him—-
Ilse as he kissed her the very first time—-
It was Ilse when she was at her kindest, her bravest, her strongest.
It was Ilse when he didn’t yet have the power to hurt her, to fail her because she hadn’t needed him then—-
The way he did now.
Come home.
The words broke him because Ilse shouldn’t have been saying them at all.
WHEN A FULL MINUTE passed, and only silence emerged from the other line, Ilse knew that if she were smart – she would put the phone down and pretend this never happened. If she kept pretending, he would continue pretending, too.
If she were smart—-
But she wasn’t.
Right now, she was just tired.
“I miss you, Jaak.” The words were torn out of her.
It was the first time for Ilse to say such words, and the billionaire’s fists clenched. How many times had he dreamt of her saying these very words? But God, he would rather not hear them at all if it would mean that Ilse could go back the way she was.
Taking a deep breath, he managed to say casually, “You know I miss you, too, babe.”
He was hoping that Ilse would take it from there—-
Let’s keep pretending.
But Ilse only continued to make both of their hearts bleed.
“Don’t you...” Her voice caught. “D-don’t you love me anymore?”
Ah God. “More than my life,” he said fiercely.
A painful laugh escaped her. “Then...what’s wrong?”
Everything. Nothing. But the billionaire knew that whatever he said, it wouldn’t be the truth.
The continued silence hurt, and Ilse couldn’t stop herself pressing one tight fist against her chest. It was hurting so, so much—-
Because she felt too, too much.
“Jaak...” A shuddering breath racked her chest as she prepared herself to take the leap. “Jaak...I love you.”
The billionaire stared numbly at the rain-blurred window of his hotel suite.
God, why now?
Why?
He said tonelessly, “I love you, too.” And he did. There had never been a question about that. He loved her, and he would always love her.
He loved her, but he would rather she never love him back if it would mean she would need him, too.
“Oh, Jaak.” Despair strained Ilse’s voice, and it was all he could do not to succumb to the urge to give her a litany of impossible promises.
Let’s start again.
Maybe this time I won’t fail someone I love.
Maybe this time I won’t fail you.
“You love me...” Ilse was laughing as she said the words, and it was a heartbreaking sound. “You love me, and I love you. These were supposed to be magic words for the two of us, r-remember? If we s-said these words...everything would be okay. So why isn’t it?” Her voice shook and rose. “Why isn’t it?”
The billionaire didn’t answer, knowing that there was no need to.
They both knew love had never been the problem between them.
THE DAYS THAT THE BILLIONAIRE remained away continued to pass, but this time Ilse didn’t let it get to her. She was done being weak. She was done lying. She was done pretending. She loved the billionaire, and he loved her. To leave was to lie about her own feelings, to pretend she no longer cared. To leave was to succumb to weakness once more, and she didn’t want that.
To leave was to become weak again, and she didn’t want that.
In an effort to keep busy, Ilse started studying Braille, hoping that in time she would become sufficiently skilled at it to find herself some kind of job. Ever since the accident, she had been living off the billionaire’s money and even though she knew he could more than afford it, she also knew she would lose all self-respect if she allowed herself to be completely dependent on him.
Ilse also started going out, meeting up to have lunch with Gloria and the other girls. Erik and Serenity also frequently visited her at home, and sometimes, even Willem and Jaak’s other siblings would drop by.
All this made her happy, all this helped ease the pain just a little, but even so, Ilse knew she was living in a fragile bubble that could burst any moment.
And it did.
The first crack appeared when Gloria suddenly stopped updating Ilse on every gossip item she read about the billionaire. When she remarked about it to Erik, her friend had only laughed nervously while saying nothing at all, and more cracks appeared. The last straw was when she had met up with Serenity and asked her about Jaak. The younger girl had changed the subject rather abruptly, and the act of rudeness was so unexpected from someone considered as a role model for propriety and good etiquette—-
The last cracks destroyed the bubble she had done her best to survive in for th
e past weeks, and she knew that something had changed.
Chapter Twenty
For a while, it was almost like old times, and it allowed both of them to forget. Issac had suggested that they meet at their favorite bowling place, and although Ilse had certain misgivings about it, she had agreed. It wasn’t like she had any choice anyway.
When Issac arrived, she hadn’t been quite sure how to start, and as if sensing her unease, Issac suggested that they warm up with a game. It had been so outrageous that she couldn’t help asking incredulously, “Have you forgotten I’m blind?”
“Of course I haven’t,’ Issac had retorted. “But just because you’re blind doesn’t mean you can no longer play. I just need to help you.”
And it actually worked.
Issac would start by guiding her to the lane, and during the first throw, she didn’t need his help at all. She could easily picture the way the pins were arranged in her mind, and she only had to keep the image in her mind when throwing the ball. 3 times out of 10 she had actually managed to get a strike, and it had given Ilse such an incredible feeling of accomplishment that she couldn’t stop herself from jumping up and down while yelling with excitement.
“I did it! I did it!”
“You did.” Issac was laughing.
She turned to his voice, saying with a grin, “Give me a high-five.” She put her hand out, his hand slapped hers, and it was really just like old times.
On the instances she didn’t hit a strike, Issac would tell her how the pins were positioned, and again she would recreate it in her mind before throwing. The first few times, her ball went straight to the gutter, but as Ilse’s accuracy in visualizing the arrangement improved, so did her throw.
When their game finally ended, she had managed a more than a respectable score that was only two strikes away from Issac’s, and she called out impulsively, “Issac?”
“What is it?”
“Come closer.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Issac stepped forward. “Here.” He watched tensely as she slowly reached out for him, and he couldn’t help stiffening even more when her hands touched his chest.
“Ilse—-” He broke off when she suddenly threw her arms around his neck.
“Thank you, Issac.” Her arms around him tightened. “Thank you for making me feel normal.”
Ah. His arms slowly closed around her. “I’m all for making you happy,” he muttered under his breath, “but I can’t lie.”
Ilse stilled.
“You’re never normal to me.” His arms loosened and he pulled back, needing to look at her even though he knew that her eyes might never meet his the way they once had. “You’ll always be extraordinary to me, Ilse. Always...ethereal.”
Her lovely full lips slowly curved in a smile that was pure Ilse. “Careful, Issac. Or I might think you’re being sycophantic for a reason.”
In spite of everything, Issac couldn’t keep himself from chuckling. “You don’t ever run out of big words, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” As she spoke, she reached for her phone, and he watched her fingers move over the screen like she could see every button. She asked Siri for the time, and at Siri’s reply, Ilse glanced at Issac in dismay. “I didn’t realize so much time’s already passed. I promised Jan I’d pick him up from school today and we’d eat out.”
“Oh.” Doing his best to hide his disappointment, he said instead, “That’s okay. Maybe we can just go out again. You only have to say when and where.”
“I’d love that.” But her voice was faint, her smile vague, and Issac knew her mind was focused on something else completely.
“Shall I walk you to your car?”
Ilse appeared startled then grateful, her unseeing eyes shining. “Yes, please.” She offered him her hand – the gesture speaking of practicality rather than self-pity – and Issac took it silently, not trusting himself to speak.
It had only been over a month since she had lost her eyesight, and yet Ilse was acting like she’d had an eternity to accept and move past the fact.
They walked to the parking lot in companionable silence, and by the time they reached her car, Issac had almost convinced himself that he had been wrong. She had not asked to meet him out of the blue because of that. She had only wanted to catch up with him, just like she had said.
And yet when he turned to tell her that they had made it to her car and it was time for them to part, that was when Issac realized he had been wrong.
She hadn’t been quiet because things were okay between them.
She had been quiet because—-
Her wet brown eyes met Issac’s, almost like her heart allowed her to see, and she choked out, “I’m sorry.”
The sight of the tears running down her face stunned him. Once upon a time, he had dreamt of having some kind of “first” with Ilse. He had dreamt of being her first date, her first kiss – any kind of first.
And now, he had it, but God, it was not what he wanted. He never wanted this.
“Ilse...” His voice was hoarse.
And still, she kept crying in silence, and the sight ravaged him.
He suddenly remembered how she had been on the day of her parents’ funeral. She had been nineteen, and despite being clueless and grieving, she hadn’t allowed herself to cry. Instead, Ilse had smiled back when people smiled at her, had laughed when the people needed to hear her laugh, and she had only nodded when people unknowingly, selfishly forbade her to show weakness by telling her they believed she would be strong for Jan.
And she had.
She hadn’t only faced insurmountable odds, but she had overcome them, too.
She was strong – the strongest person he had ever known – so why...why, goddammit, why did she look like she was about to shatter now?
“Ilse.”
The tears fell faster, and he could no longer help it. He hauled her into his arms, and she clung to him, sobs wracking her body, and it was another first he didn’t want, another first that did not and would never feel right.
“Issac.” She said his name like it was a cry for help, and oh God, it wasn’t fucking right.
His arms tightened around her. “I’m here,” he said rawly. “I’m always here for you.”
She raised unseeing eyes to his, and all the pain in the world was in it.
Ah God.
He suddenly felt like he was on the verge of breaking, too.
“Anything you need, Ilse.” His voice was fierce. “Anything you goddamn need—-”
“Issac—-”
“Because I’m yours.”
Ilse choked back a sob. “Please...please don’t say that.”
“My promises were empty before, but not now, Ilse. I’m yours.” His hand shook as he carefully wiped the tears that continued to stain her cheeks. “So anything—-”
“I think,” she said brokenly, “you already know.”
Ah.
“D-don’t you?” Ilse swallowed hard. “You know w-what I wanted to talk to you about.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she did her best to stop crying. “No one w-wants to tell me a t-thing, but I know. I know something’s wrong even if I can’t see it.”
She tried to swallow back another sob, but the pain was too much to keep inside, and another cry went past her throat.
“Ilse...”
“Please, Issac,” she whispered. “Please. You’re the only one I trust to tell me the truth.”
Silence.
Such long, damning silence.
“I’m sorry, Ilse.” Issac’s voice was harsh. “He’s been seen leaving the hotel room of an ex-girlfriend.”
And Ilse shattered.
He caught her before she fell, and he held her tightly to him, even knowing that he was not the one she needed.
Goddamn you, Jaak de Konigh.
Angels weren’t made to cry.
Chapter Twenty-One
The flight back to Amsterdam was spent in somber silence, with most of the flight crew still st
ruggling with shock at what had transpired earlier at the airport in Milan. When the controversial photos broke the Internet yesterday morning, paparazzi from all over Europe came running to Italy’s capital like bloodhounds going for the kill. Yasmin, the billionaire’s ex-lover, although readily obliging the reporters’ demands for a statement, had not much to say. “The matter is between Jaak and me.” Innocuous words certainly, but because they were not an outright denial of the billionaire cheating on his Dutch non-celebrity girlfriend, they only served to fuel the rumors.
With their usual enterprising ways, the media had learned of the billionaire’s scheduled flight out of Milan, and they had staked the airport, waiting for the tight-lipped billionaire.
When he finally did, the first reporter that reached Jaak de Konigh had asked, “Did you get tired of fucking the public pussy, is that it?”
And that was it.
By the time security had managed to pull the billionaire away, both his fists were bloodied and bruised, but even so he looked better off than the reporter, whose face had been nearly unrecognizable after being in the receiving end of the billionaire’s punches.
It had chaos and hell, and the billionaire had been taken into police custody while an ambulance took the unconscious reporter to the E.R. Meanwhile, the remaining paparazzi had started hounding the flight crew of the billionaire’s private jet. Was he always that hotheaded? Had he verbally or physically abused any of them?
Only stoic silence met their questions and bribes. The violence that the billionaire displayed had shocked them, but even so the staff remained deeply loyal to Jaak de Konigh. He had always been a good employer to them, a fair and generous man. They would stand by him, even when the rest of the world didn’t.
When the jet finally landed in Amsterdam, the billionaire was not surprised to see the airport free of any signs of media presence. Here, the de Konighs held unparalleled power, and Jaak knew without being told Willem had taken immediate measures to ensure his privacy and security.
Upon making it to his limousine, he called his brother right away. “How is Ilse?”
