“Don’t look at it that way,” he soothes, holding me tighter. It’s almost like when he presses me so close, some of the terrible feeling inside of me transfers to him and he helps me to carry the weight. “If that comes to pass, the fundraising gala will be in her memory, like an homage to her.”
I ponder his words more carefully. “You’re right. It will hurt but… she’d want us to help others like her.”
“Exactly,” Alex says, “Now, time to rest.” He gives me another kiss, this time on the forehead and I shut my eyes, reveling in his touch as much as I can.
“Okay. I’ll try.”
And surprisingly, having Alex here helps. He shares my pain, and I am able to rest. Counting his heartbeats, I slowly drift to sleep in his arms, wishing that he would be here for me like this every night.
Chapter 20
Manhattan, March 15, 2021
Alexander Van Dieren
Ryan and I have spent the whole day reviewing our defense and getting to know the jury that has been selected. Okay, mostly Ryan. I have barely managed to keep myself focused knowing that tomorrow my wife will testify against me. That’s why I have decided to meet him at my private residence, away from the condo where we could possibly be in her presence. I still want to believe she won’t testify tomorrow, but I know I’m just fooling myself. Ryan, on the other hand, seems quite confident of the jurors we got. Given the fact I have never done this before, I’ve got no reason to share the same optimism.
“How is Petra doing?” he asks out of the blue, most likely because I haven’t been paying attention to pretty much anything the whole time. “You seem to be on another planet today.”
“Not great,” I disclose, which is also how I’m feeling. “We had high hopes for the surgery, so it was a big blow when the doctor told us it wouldn’t be possible to do it.”
Ryan winces. “So what are you gonna do, then?”
“Take it day by day,” I say, before heaving a sigh. “There isn’t much else we can do.”
He nods, not knowing what else to say, then his eyes dive again to the sheets between his hands and he decides to change the subject. “Regarding tomorrow...” He looks back at me, removing his glasses for a moment. “Your wife is Eric’s first witness. She will testify at eleven a.m.”
That’s the kind of info I didn’t want to know.
“I have a really good strategy for her cross-examination, but I need you to trust me on this.”
“You have my full trust,” I tell him. “Just make sure I don’t get a guilty verdict.”
Ryan leans back on his chair, a smirk rising on his lips. “You won’t.” He then closes his file, stacks it back into his briefcase and rises from his seat. “Well, try to relax and get some sleep, alright?”
I nod, leaving my chair to escort him to the door.
“I will come back tomorrow morning and we’ll go directly to the courtroom together.”
“Thank you for everything, Ryan,” I say as we shake hands for longer than usual. “See you tomorrow.”
Once he leaves my residence, the silence hits me so I decide to put on some opera music before serving myself a glass of Macallan. I go and watch the sunset, which is now settling on the horizon behind the Hudson River, while taking another sip. My iPhone starts vibrating inside my pocket, most likely to announce a new SMS. I take it out and check.
Yep, it’s my wife texting me.
Are you coming home tonight?
Not tonight, no, I text back.
Okay. Good luck for tomorrow. X
Good luck? I chuckle at her reply. Is she being sarcastic here or just genuine? What does luck have anything to do with it? Regardless of her intentions, I type two words in response: You too, and press send.
Manhattan, March 16, 2021
Despite taking a few pills before going to bed last night, I barely managed to get any sleep. Not even after drinking a stronger-than-life double espresso this morning can my spirit lift up, especially in the face of what is yet to come. To my surprise, Ryan is at the door at nine o’clock sharp and accompanied by the one and only Roy Van Gatt.
“I figured you’d need an old friend to cheer you up,” Roy says as my eyes alight on him.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell him, a grin hanging on my lips, before greeting him with a hug.
“Are you ready for the big day?” Ryan asks. As my attention switches to him, I can tell he at least seems to be in a much better mood than me.
“No,” I answer, before we head downstairs and get into the car that is waiting for us.
Roy and I sit in the backseat, while Ryan sits in front with the driver.
“By the way,” I begin as I come to think about a little detail. Then turning to Roy I ask, “When was the last time you saw your daughter?”
Taken by surprise, he ponders my question for a few seconds. “Um, something like two weeks ago,” he answers. “Why?”
“And you haven’t noticed anything different last time you saw her?” I keep asking.
“Well, she looked very concerned about you.”
My lips curve up at his answer and I do my best not to laugh. “Anything else?”
Roy, on the other hand, remains just as serious as he tries to figure me out. “Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “But why?”
“Well, you might find her slightly different today,” I tell him, reveling in his curiosity.
“How so?”
“Oh, it’s nothing…” I do my best to conceal my growing smile. “You’ll see for yourself.”
Once the driver stops in front of the court building, I don’t have the will to get out of the car as I see Eric from afar surrounded by microphones and reporters, most likely making a very inspiring speech about the case and how awful I am.
“Don’t worry about him,” Ryan tells me as he turns to look in my direction. “He might speak as much as he wants, but he has no evidence whatsoever that you are guilty.”
That I know. But is it enough for the jury though?
We leave the car, escorted by security, and make our way to the entrance of the court.
As we climb the stairs, some reporters turn their cameras on us, and start screaming my name to catch my attention. I keep ignoring them, looking ahead of me. Unfortunately, they start rushing in our direction and following us. The police start stepping in, and I heave a long sigh in displeasure, shaking my head while reporters keep shouting at us to get an answer to their questions. Since I don’t react, they start blocking the way we need to go, and soon enough, we can’t even take a step without my security and the police making some space for us.
We head inside the courtroom and find Ryan’s legal team already sitting there, waiting for us. After greeting them, Ryan and I sit in front at the defense table, while Roy keeps us company.
As I give a quick glance around the room, I notice a few cameramen are already here, standing against the wall and probably recording us. Damn it.
All of a sudden, noise emerges from the entryway and then from the door and not surprisingly a group of reporters walk inside to take a seat in the gallery. A few minutes later, Eric walks in, escorted by my lovely wife on his right and Matt on his left.