Chapter 3: Chagrined…

Selene.

Amsterdam, April 20th, 2022…

I’m finally riding through the city of Amsterdam. The canal city.

Everything here is historical, full of life. Untampered beauty.

I envy the place.

I envy the people in the place.

I envy the ground.

Like I should be the ground, so tourists can walk on me.

And I’d bless them every day.

God bless you tourist. Safe flight.

The cab stops at this line of terraced houses in Oud-Zuid neighborhood. Means Old South.

I have this big brochure, handed me by a handsome pilot, at the airport, when we landed. So I’m reading stuff about the neighborhood. I barely heard a word the pilot said. And he knew I didn’t. But just seeing him there, handsome, all sexy in his uniform, I could be his co-pilot for all I care.

The cab man points to the address I gave him. The house marked, Barnhardt.

My breath hitches, knowing I’m treading on uncertain waters.

But I go anyway. I’m here now. Can’t go back.

I pay the cab and stroll to the house.

My heart thudding. I am scared shitless.

I emailed my sister, when I landed. She’s the only person that knows my reason for coming here.

I ring the door bell, waiting anxiously.

The weather is sunny. It’s 9am, but I still have a jacket on.

The streets are lined with these beautiful trees and flowers; brightening the place.

Cars parked in front of the brick houses.

I love the city.

The door opens, startling me. I smile, as I come face to face with a man in a white waist coat, black bow tie and black slacks.

A butler? Ralph has a butler? Fancy.

The only other person I’ve been close to that has a butler is my brother in law, Henry Macklesfield.

The Butler speaks in fluent Dutch, I hastily speak up.

“Hi…I’m Selene Joseph. I’m American. Lives in Canada. I’m here to see Ralph. Am his girlfriend.”

He looks me over, like I am a plague or something. Well if I saw someone at 9am in the morning declaring such about my employer, I’d give them that look.

“Vait here.” His tone is downright condescending.

I don’t think I like your fancy butler, Ralph.

Wow. Ralph does live rich. He said his family in Netherlands was affluent. But never did I imagine he’d own a fancy butler.

A few seconds later, he returns, with a woman.

She’s the same height as I am. 5’7.

Though I’m slightly curvier. Her blonde hair has silver streaks.

Plus, she looks like a beautiful version of Ralph.

Holding a pleasant smile, she says. “Hello, Fred says you’re dating my son?” His mother has a sad look. There’s something else there. Something hopeful. There are tears, but she brushes them off.

My heart suddenly breaks.

“I am.” I quietly admit.

She nods eagerly, allowing me in.

It’s bigger on the inside. Am standing in the foyer and see the well-furnished interior.

Tapestries, well-polished floors. Art paintings. I can see these velvet seats in a room nearby.

Ralph told me this was his house. He never told me he stayed with his mum.

We reach a room; a drawing room, I presume from the arrangement.

Plush beige, velvet chairs, gracing the room. The walls lined with white and red wall paper. I love the décor of the place. And the architectural work. It’s

breathtaking, considering my line of work.

“You know my son is sick right?” She doesn’t waste time now, does she.

I watch her, she’s nervous. My heart goes out to her.

Seeing she’s waiting for my reply, I nod.

A maid brings tea. She serves us and leaves.

“Are you equally…”

“No, Mrs Barnhardt. Your son and I haven’t had those kinds of relations yet, due to distance.” I hastily speak.

To reassure myself than her. I know what she must have been thinking when she got to know we were dating. Perhaps I was one of her son’s sex partners that had infected him.

But I wasn’t.

She has this confused look. “Then how are you dating if you’re…”

“Oh, long distance relationship. We talk, kiss on phone and video calls.” I tell her, my face heated in embarrassment at the things Ralph and I have done over the phone.

She nods.

The butler walks back in, hands her a paper.

She looks inside, then gives the paper to me, her face grim.

I worry at what's inside as I collect it.

“Selene.

I asked you not to come. You disobeyed.

I have made up my mind on suicide. My lawyers and a medical team have it all settled. It would be done on Tuesday. I don’t want to see you, because I don’t wish to change my mind.

I wouldn’t let this HIV thing limit me. My life is to be lived to the fullest, not hindered. What is a life if I can’t have sex with anyone as I deem fit?

This is the last time I am communicating with you. I’ve asked the driver to take you back to the airport.

Go home, Selene.

Ralph.”

I hitch my breath, tears slip out.

My initial smile, excitement shatter. Replaced by humiliation. Anger. Astonishment.

Suicide? Tuesday?

I raise my teary eyes to his mother. Her expression mirrors mine. Defeated. Chagrined.

A few minutes later, I’m sitting in the lobby of this big ass hotel. I saw the building, when the cab pulled over. I saw its magnificence. Its beauty when the cab man escorted me into the hotel. But I didn’t see anything.

Nothing registered. Only my pain. Ralph’s selfishness. His mum’s pain.

The cab man is talking to the receptionist now. I don't hear them. I just see humans' selfishness.

“Good morning.”

I hear this warm, voice. Like hot coffee, butter and croissant. My faves. I raise my teary eyes. I see a pair of ocean blue orbs, on the most handsome face ever.

“I see you.” I whisper.