Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“They do, Jaak. Every damn second. But I can’t – don’t – let it stop me from going to her because she loves me. And for as long as Serenity wants me to love her, then I will. I don’t give a damn if people think I’m too old for her or that I don’t deserve her. It’s only what she wants that matters. So if she loves me, and she wants me to love her, I’m not fucking complaining.
“When I look at you, Jaak – didn’t you ever think that it would be the same for me? That I would think I failed you, too?”
Jaak blanched. Such a thought had never occurred to him because in his eyes – in all his younger siblings’ eyes – Willem had been perfect.
But seeing the bleakness in Willem’s eyes told him he should have.
And he would have, if he hadn’t been so damn blinded by his own weaknesses.
“You were never to blame,” Jaak said fiercely. “You let our father beat you up, for fuck’s sake.”
“But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you.”
Jaak jerked.
“I keep asking myself if there was something I could have said or done differently, some way I could have helped you to keep you from losing it—-”
“Bullshit,” Jaak snapped.
Willem smiled grimly. “Exactly, Jaak. If you think blaming myself for what happened to you is bullshit, then accept that you blaming yourself for what happened in the past is the same fucking piece of bull.”
Ah.
“If you love her—-”
“And she wants you to love her—-”
“Then, goddammit, Jaak, love her.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Valentine’s Day dawned bright and clear for those who could see Mokkum’s perfect blue skies, and since it fell on a Saturday, Ilse had the rare chance to take Jan out. Even better, Erik had actually invited both of them on a Valentine’s trip, saying that he didn’t want to be out of town on the day everyone in the world celebrated being in love.
“Are you ready?” Erik asked cheerfully, popping his head into Ilse’s bedroom. Over a week had passed since Ilse and Jan had showed up unannounced on his front door. One look at her tear-stained face, and he hadn’t even cared to ask questions.
He had let her in, saying simply that they could stay with him for as long as they wanted. The offer had always been there, actually. It was only that Ilse had been so afraid of becoming weak again that she had struggled hard to provide for herself and Jan on her own.
Ilse turned towards Erik’s voice with a smile. “Ready in a bit.” Her voice was slightly muffled since she had a pin between her lips and she was busy combing her hair back. When she had it styled the way she wanted – or imagined rather – she took the pin from her lips and clipped it into place.
Glancing back at where Erik’s voice had come from, she asked, “Do I look okay?”
“Stunning.” And Erik meant it. Issac once told him that he saw Ilse as ethereal and even though he batted for the same team, Erik could definitely see why Issac had likened Ilse to an angel.
And even when heartbreak should have diminished her beauty—-
Even when losing her sight should have made Ilse drown in the depths of despair—-
It did the opposite.
It was as if knowing how much pain she could withstand allowed Ilse to be braver, kinder—-
Lovelier, to the point that it could take people’s breath away.
“Erik?” Ilse’s tone was bemused. “I can feel you staring at me.”
Erik scowled. “I wasn’t.”
“Hmm.” A dubious look crossed Ilse’s face.
“Anyway.” Erik’s tone became brisk. “We should get going. We have a full day ahead of us.”
Ilse gave him a mock salute. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
They started out on foot, the three of them enjoying the slightly chilly weather in their thick coats while sipping hot cocoa from insulated flasks. A good number of roads and alleys were decked in full Valentine’s glory, and so were most of the cafes and boutiques they walked past.
Jan and Erik took turns describing the sights to Ilse, and she oohed and aahed alongside them. She was a good sport, the best really, but even so, it hurt. When Erik’s tone suddenly cracked, Ilse’s lips curved in a familiar, Mona Lisa smile, and the sight made him want to bawl like a kid.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. It just fucking wasn’t.
And yet, Ilse only reached blindly for his arm, saying softly, “It’s okay, Erik. I’m happy.”
Their first stop was Ilse’s favorite bookstore, and Mr. Peters offered them a plate of cookies, gruffly saying that it was free because it was Valentine’s.
That was a lie, of course, and Erik had to quickly cover Jan’s mouth when Ilse’s brother started to speak. Knowing Jan, he would probably ask why it was the cookies came from a jar with a clearly labeled price.