Bella's Choice (29 page)

Anabella removed her arms and replied honestly, “I will come as soon as I’m able to.”

“That makes me happy. I will eagerly await your visit.” He rose, wished them both a good night and left.

“Thanks, Dad.” At that moment, Aldrich’s heart felt too big for his chest.

“André, please sit down.” Thomas offered him one of the office chairs. He had arranged with the man to come in later because he wouldn’t have made it for ten. Surprisingly, he had accommodated Thomas without any demands. For some reason, the man wasn’t his boisterous self today. The scar on his face looked painful, and wondering what had happened he shifted his focus to the man himself. “Can I offer you any refreshments?” he asked when the silence continued between them.

André nodded. “Coffee would be fine.”

Thomas asked his assistant to organize it and sat back waiting for him to carry on.

He stared at some remote place in his office, distant, unsure, even uncomfortable.

Does he even know where he is,
Thomas wondered. The silence stretched out, and when Patricia placed the tray on the table, he lifted his head in surprise and shifted in his chair. When she left with a final glance toward him, Thomas asked, “André is there something I can help you with?” On a personal level he didn’t know the man well, had never said two civilized words to him, yet there he was, sitting in a state of bewilderment.

“I…” And he fell silent, a blush appearing on his face. He cleared his throat before trying again. “I did something foolish last night.” He looked down in shame.

Thomas studied his face, now devoid of the usual stern malicious look on the once chubby face.

André had lost weight, but since Saturday he looked like a ghost. Dark rings had formed under the usual cold, steel-grey eyes, now shadowed by his black lashes, as if he were hiding.

Something has rattled him pretty good,
Thomas contemplated. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sincerity caused him to sit forward, arms resting on his desk, sending a quick prayer for the necessary guidance and wisdom.

The man lifted his eyes, and Thomas could have sworn he’d seen a tear forming before he blinked and got up.

“I’d prefer to take this up again tomorrow.”

Before Thomas could answer, the man left.

He raised a brow in question, bowed his head and brought the distressed man before the Lord.

The moment André Herbst stepped out of Thomas Hagin’s office, he had to blink against the overwhelming glare reflecting directly into his eyes from a car’s window. In the process, he bumped against a person who muttered a
sorry
and walked away. André fumbled around for his sunglasses and covered his eyes. The scowl on his face grew with every second that ticked by, irritated with himself, mostly.

He couldn’t believe his reaction whilst in Thomas’ office. He’d never reacted that out of control in his life, but the previous night’s incident was becoming his undoing. His obsession with the young woman had left him unbalanced, uncertain, but mostly scared. He wanted her like a desperate man seeking a rare gift, a gift he almost destroyed in a crazed moment of lust.
He had been distracted since the incident, and could hardly form a coherent sentence. The fear on the young girl’s face and the fact that he was the cause of it, kept him awake all night. It played repeatedly in his mind’s eye. Not even the bottle of whiskey he’d taken with him could stop the visual movie in his head. He had never sunk so low in all of his dealings with women, always believing in mutual respect and agreement to whatever was agreed between them. But last night, he’d been totally out of control and lost it with Anabella Anthony.
How could I have been so stupid? No, scrap that, a damn FOOL! With big, black capital letters.

He wanted her like no other. For the past three months, his dreams had been saturated by her, filled with every lewd act he wanted to carry out on Anabella, and he hadn’t been able to wait any longer. No getting to know her first, he just grabbed what he had considered his and now he loathed himself for the very act.

Sandra had phoned a few times throughout the evening and that morning, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to speak to her. He avoided her as much as possible, wanting no reminders. He’d chastised himself enough and couldn’t believe he had stooped so low.
I bought an unwilling woman for a night of pleasure, and for what?
What have I become?

Again, he bumped into someone and a soft voice spoke with concern, “Excuse me, sir, but are you okay?”

“Yes,” he muttered, looking at the young woman, somewhere in her late thirties if he’d had to guess. The expression on her face told him she didn’t believe him, not that he cared anyway.

Big, smoky-brown eyes stared at him from a delicate face framed with long blond hair, neatly cut in the latest fashion. Her pouty lips colored in a shade of soft pink; all inviting features on a woman, usually, but this one was different. She had a realness about her that caused him to stop and take note, a directness
―but without the tease, as if she knew him and was interested in him, and not as a lover but a man. He growled, not meaning to, really. When was the last time anyone had shown him any real concern, like this woman, and Thomas? He was not worthy of their attention, not today, not with the knowledge of last night.

He was a beast.

He walked away just as she was about to speak, cutting her off, and Annie Blignaut shook her head. She continued walking to the salon just next door from Thomas Hagin Contractors.

For the rest of the day, he was very present on both Annie’s and Thomas’ mind. The burden to pray for him never left them.

At 1pm, Mrs. Smit arrived and took Anabella aside to a corner of the living room where they could have more privacy. She had insisted Aldrich stay with her, and reluctantly Mrs. Smit agreed.

From the moment they met, Anabella had liked the older woman, her hair was white as snow, and soft wrinkles adorned the edges of her mouth and eyes. Her smile revealed one dimple just under her left eye, and bright green eyes returned her stare. With her short stature she barely reached Aldrich’s chest, but that didn’t mean she was a pushover.

Gently, she talked to them both, but with an authority of years of experience. With the softest hands Anabella had ever felt, she held her hand, assuring her that she was there for her.

Hesitant to meet her at first, Anabella hadn’t been sure she could deal with the subject just yet, but Aldrich was insistent that it would be good to speak about it. Now, they talked a few minutes with Mrs. Richter before she left them. When they were seated in the cooler corner of the living room, Mrs. Smit asked her to tell her what had taken place the previous night. Like a small little girl, she bundled up, shame overtaking her in waves. The older woman assured her there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, that she should jut relax and tell her whatever she could remember.

Aldrich couldn’t bear the pain and in tears he watched as she relived the trauma once again. He couldn’t help but feel bitter once more, ready to strangle them with his bare hands. He soon calmed down, sat back, and continued to support her.

She was shaken up. All of her defenses were down.

“You don’t want to report this to the authorities?” Mrs. Smit asked carefully, after she concluded her story.

“No, it wouldn’t be good for my public profile, nor for my brothers.” Anabella didn’t say it out loud, but her parents had stolen enough from her and she wouldn’t allow them the luxury of taking what she had built, turning it into a circus. Giving her brothers a clean slate would help to move on. “If it can be helped, I don’t want anyone to know, not including the people that were here last night.”

“Okay, I had to ask, but I do understand.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Smit started with the hard questions, asking her how she felt about her parents, and Anabella disclosed that she felt rejected and betrayed by them. She emphasized that she wouldn’t return to the house and that she never wanted to see them again. Bitterness was thick in her voice, adamant that she was finished with them. She wanted to run as far as she could, because it felt like her heart had been ripped into thousands of little pieces; she felt small and helpless.

Aldrich stopped her. He knew she didn’t want to face this, but he managed to convince her that it was for her own good. Once she calmed down enough, they dealt with the rage and bitterness she felt toward her parents. Mrs. Smit assured her that it was normal to feel these things but that she must not allow it to fester within her. This was hard to do as she had no idea how to get past it. She could still hear her mother’s voice, still feel the man’s hands on her. She wanted to scream her hate toward them, confront them and ask them why, but in the end she sunk into Mrs. Smit’s soft arms who in return embraced her.

The counselor led her to a place of calmness where she openly talked about forgiveness. As hard as it sounded, she listened as Mrs. Smit pointed out the advantages of forgiveness, that it would be necessary to give them no place to control her mind, or her thoughts. That she had to sever the connection in order to heal properly.

Even her relationship with Aldrich had been touched, and she had to admit that her parents’ reaction left her astounded when they learned she was serious about him.

Aldrich smiled throughout, not letting on how those words had hurt him.

With tear-filled eyes, Anabella listened as she prayed with her, sobs wracked her body as the pain filtered through her. However, reliving the ugliness once again brought some peace as well.

Aldrich wrapped her in his arms as she cried, giving her the assurance that he was there. The whole ordeal had shattered her, but she knew she had to move on―she couldn’t allow them to win.

Shortly after, Aldrich received counseling to deal with his shock and rage upon receiving the news. He was also dealing with the guilt of not being able to protect her, for not giving heed to the warning
Roy have given him at the airport.

They talked about the threatening letters and Anabella was silent for a moment. There was something she had to remember, something very important, but what? Deep grooves formed on her forehead and when Aldrich asked her about it, she said that she couldn’t remember.

Mrs. Smit placed her hands on both of them and prayed for them individually, but also as a couple; that they may be granted the wisdom to face this in the best way possible.