Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Rathe’s head whipped towards him.
“Mary went away in a place she’s hoping you won’t find her. She loves you, son, but...she’s also in a lot of pain because of what happened—-”
“Don’t bother to sugarcoat it,” Rathe said bitterly. “She’s in pain because of me.”
Warren shook his head. “No, son. In many ways, Alyssa and I are to blame as well. Because your actions are the result of the childhood you had.” Forcing himself to stop beating around the bush, he said tersely, “You once asked us about the pre-nuptial contract between us.”
Rathe stiffened. “You were right, Father. That’s none of your business—-”
“It is your business. And to answer your question, it was because your mother was once what everyone was saying she was.”
Rathe stared at his father uncomprehendingly. “I don’t—-”
“She was someone who married me for my money.” Before his son could react, Warren told the rest of his story. And when he was done, he said heavily, “Neither of us wanted you to know the truth because we feared you’d lose all love and respect for her. But now, I know that was a mistake. We should have told you. If we had, then maybe none of this would have happened. If we had, you might have understood love a little better and feared it less.”
Warren forced himself to meet his son’s gaze. “I’m sorry, son. I’m sorry we kept that from you. But now you know, I want you to finally take off the weight you’ve always carried on your shoulders all these years. Because, son, love – whatever shape or form it takes...”
This time, it was Warren’s turn to run a hand over his face.
“It doesn’t matter whether you fall in love with someone thirty years younger or older than you. Love that’s true can’t ever be a burden.”
Rathe slowly ran his hand over his face once more. “Bloody hell, Father.” He laughed, the sound painful but genuine at the same time. “Couldn’t you have told me this when I was six?”
Warren joined in the laughter.
“Ah, God.” Rathe squeezed his eyes shut, and he said brokenly, “I truly love her, you know.”
Warren’s chest tightened at the despair in those words. “I know.”
Chapter Fourteen
A year later
Scotland
“Morning, Mary.” The greeting came from her octogenarian neighbor, Mr. Craig. Actually, he was her only neighbor in miles around, and that was what she liked so much about the sleepy little town she had been living in for the past year.
“Morning, Mr. Craig.”
He glanced curiously at the box she was dragging towards her cottage. “What’s that you have?”
She smiled sheepishly. “A TV.”
He cackled in laughter. “You finally gave in, eh?”
“It’s a present from a friend. She wants me to watch her husband’s concert.”
“Ah. A singer?”
“Something like that,” Mary prevaricated. She didn’t think the old man would know or care who Staffan Aehrenthal was anyway.
In this part of the world, it was as if entertainment of the modern world didn’t exist. Or at least they didn’t outside TV screens.
Here, she had no use for phones, TVs, the Internet or even the radio. She communicated with her friends and Alyssa through letters. If she were bored, Mary would only have to head up the loch and happily wait for any signs of Nessie.
Here, each day was calm, peaceful, and blank.
Which was okay.
It was better to feel nothing than to experience the hurt that she had long buried deep inside of her.
Heaving another deep breath, she continued to drag the large box inside, wishing Saffi had sent her something more compact. Had her friend forgotten that she was living alone? It wasn’t like she had someone to help her carry this monstrous box inside her home.
An hour and a half later, Mary finally finished setting up the fifty-five-inch plasma screen...on the floor. It was all she could do, too tired to try figuring out a way to have it on the console.
Taking the USB that came with the TV, she plugged it in and pressed play on the single file it contained. Credits started to roll, showing a beautiful backdrop of Norway.
Uh-oh, Mary thought uneasily. She had heard of Staffan Aehrenthal’s legendary concerts in Europe. Did this come with an R rating perhaps? While she was not blind to the fact that the ash-haired rockstar was incredibly gorgeous, she wouldn’t really want to see him do anything sexual. It would feel weird, considering he was her friend’s husband.
On the screen, the credits had ended, and the scene changed, zooming in on Staffan, who was in the backstage, talking to Saffi.
A second later, a blue screen appeared.
“Hey!”
Another second, and another set of credits started.
When she realized what show she was about to watch, Mary grabbed the remote control, her finger trembling above the Stop button.
Oh, Saffi, why would you want me to see this?
It was a reality show that starred the Duke of Flanders.