Page 20 of You've Got The Love
“You’re an artist?” She asks as she walks over to my easel, taking in my latest piece.
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but I enjoy painting.”
“These are incredible, Bas. Truly. They should be in a gallery. You could sell them.”
“Oh, God, no. But I appreciate your very biased opinion, it’s good for my ego,” I chuckle.
She spins on me and pins me with a look.
“I am not biased, Mr Van der Meer. You are talented, and the world should see your work.”
“Mr Van der Meer? That sounds so official.”
“I’m being serious, Bastiaan,” she blinks up at me with her hands on her hips. She looks ready to go into battle. She does this pose when she’s trying to be serious and authoritative, I’ve noticed. I’ve dubbed it her ‘superheropose’.
“Okay, okay. Thank you, Bell. But I do these for me, no one else. Painting has always been something I’ve done, but it helped me so much after… Marieke died. It helps my mind drift and sort through all the garbage,” I tell her. Hating to mention Marieke’s name, let alone her death, to Amber.
She nods at me with a small smile, but it’s not a pitying one like most people give me if Marieke is mentioned. She sits on the old couch I have up here for when Abel wants to watch me paint or he falls asleep after we’ve been stargazing. I need to call him before it gets too late and check in on him. I sit next to her, making sure I put some distance between us and pass her theDiet CokeI brought up for her. She smiles by way of a thank you.
“Would you tell me about Marieke? I mean, I really get it if you don’t want to, but I’d love to know about how you met and what she was like,” she peeks up at me from under her lashes, looking unsure of herself.
I take a deep breath, feeling my heart pound, not knowing where the fuck to start. I know I have to talk about Marieke if I want Amber to understand why I can’t let our kiss or anything else happen again.
“I met her at college, she was 19, I was 20. She was shy, beautiful, and always the most intelligent person in any room. She was on a business course as she wanted to work for her father’s manufacturing company like her siblings. We became friends, hung out after classes, but anything more than that, she shut down, said she needed to concentrate on school. I was cool with that. There was justsomething in me that knew we’d be together, so I wasn’t in a rush, just happy to be in her orbit. But I was a young, horny guy, and my friends were dating a ton of different girls at the same time, so I must admit it was fucking hard keeping things platonic. After a year, she relented and let me take her out on a date. We were together from that moment on. I proposed shortly after she finished college, and we had a small wedding, just our family and a few friends. Life was good, simple. She helped her dad’s company and thrived. She fell pregnant with Abel, and everything was great. She was young and healthy, didn’t smoke, only drank at Christmas, so the doctors had no concerns,” I murmur the last part as I look at the lake I’d painted, and try to get my heart rate under control.
I felt Amber’s small hand gently squeeze my forearm.
“You don’t have to tell me anymore, Bas. I don’t want to cause you any unnecessary pain,” she whispers, her eyes brimming with tears.
I hold her hand on my arm, taking comfort in it. Not wanting to go back to the scene of my nightmare, but for some reason needing her to know what happened to help her understand. I lay my head on the back of the couch, close my eyes and continue.
“I couldn’t really tell you what happened; it was all such a blur. She was two days away from her due date when her contractions came, so we went to the hospital. They hooked her up to all the machines and both she and Abel were doing great. It’d been a few hours and she was startingto feel more pain, which in labour is normal, so the doctors weren’t concerned. Abel’s heart rate dipped a bit, but nothing crazy, according to the midwife. It was coming up to 30 hours, and it was looking like she wasn’t dilating anymore, so they were beginning to talk about a caesarean section. Then, out of the blue, every alarm in the room went off. Abel’s oxygen was low, too low.Scary low.They were using words I didn’t understand, talking fast. I was moved to the side and away from Marieke so they could do their jobs. Next thing I knew, they were wheeling her out, and I’m having scrubs pushed into my hands. I don’t remember getting changed. I don’t remember them telling me she hadn’t made it. I just remember my parents holding me tight on the floor of a hospital room. I didn’t hear the words. I didn’t want to. If I didn’t hear it, it wasn’t real. My ma came with me to see her. She looked so peaceful, no longer terrified and in pain.
I didn’t cry until I got home and saw the life we should have had together disappear. I didn’t think I’d ever stop crying. My ma and sister took turns coming over to look after Abel and me those first few months. I only remember properly from when he was about four months old. My pa is a man of few words, but he took me out to sit by the lake and told me that I had to put my pain aside and care for my boy. I didn’t want to hear it, because I wanted to stay in my grief, but he was right. As much as I felt dead on the inside, I had a baby boy looking to me to care for him, and itwas by being Abel’s pa properly that I eventually started to smile more. He brought me out of the darkness of my grief.
As time went on and Abel grew, I began to realise that I was smiling more and more, and that as much as the pain was still acute, the happy memories I had with Marieke made their way forward, letting me remember all the good times we had, rather than that last life-altering 48 hours together.”
I looked at Amber, who had tucked her feet under her bum and was wiping her tears away with the sleeve of my t-shirt. She looked so young, free of makeup, with tears spilling over her cheeks. I reached for her, and before I could pull her to me, she buried herself under my arm and cried quietly into my shoulder. She held on to me so tightly, like she was afraid I’d pull away.
“I’m so sorry, Bastiaan,” she whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.
I squeezed her as a way of a reply as I just couldn’t use my words right now. I was too raw after splaying myself open for her that I didn’t trust my voice.
So we sat, just holding each other as the sky turned inky and filled with stars.
I woke up bathed in moonlight and disoriented. When I felt movement next to me, I looked down to see the top of Amber’s head of wild blonde curls. That’s right, we fell asleep after talking about Marieke. I looked at my watch, and it was after nine p.m. We had been sleeping a few hours wrapped up together. And I had to admit, it felt good. I hadn’t held or been held by a woman for over six years and feeling her small and delicate in my arms was far from awful.
Shit.
I can’t keep up this trail of thought. Anything to do with Amber is dangerous, and I can’t risk hurting her.
“Bell,” I whisper quietly with my lips in her hair, and, because I’m a glutton for punishment, I breathe her in. The fact that she smells like my products does something to me, and my dick is in agreement that her smelling like us is sexy as fuck.
No. Nope.Not going down that route again.
I gently pry myself from under her, needing to move away from her. I grab the blanket and cover her as her big blue eyes blink up at me.
“Hey,” her voice is husky and low.Fuuuuuck.
