Chapter 13

The saying goes, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’ All that I could say was that hell hadn’t met me yet.

The doctor released Ilse from the hospital two days later. Luckily, everything turned out to be fine and our unborn child had sustained no injuries. When Ilse’s ex met Ilse on the street, he had dragged her off her bike and landed his first hit to her face. After that, Ilse had curled up in a ball on the ground and had drawn her knees to her chest, to protect our baby. It explained why I mostly saw bruises all over her arms and legs. She had cried for help, and luckily, several people had come to her aid. They had scared off her drunken ex. The bastard hadn’t been interested in dealing with half a dozen people.

To be on the safe side, an ambulance took Ilse to the hospital where she had a complete medical checkup. Apart from being shaken up and sustaining several nasty bruises, she was fine and would make a full recovery within several weeks.

I, however, felt infuriated.

This could have ended badly for Ilse and our unborn child. If those bystanders hadn’t reacted, they both could have ended up dead. If that happened, it would have forced Bram and Naomi to live with Ilse’s parents, or, in the worst-case scenario, with the grandparents from their father’s side. Knowing the viciousness of that family, there was no doubt in my mind, they’d do everything to destroy our children, Ilse’s parents, and finally, me. They’d likely hire the best lawyers available to get custody of our children, even if their son went to prison for killing Ilse and our baby.

If he went to prison.

If he declared he was of unsound mind, then it was just as likely they’d lock him up in a mental institution for several years. In that case, he’d get away with a double murder and would end up released from the mental institution after they pampered him for several years. There were no circumstances where I would allow that to happen or give him another chance to try again.

While I sat next to Ilse in the hospital, I had given it a lot of thought if I knew anybody that could help us out. Only one person came to mind, my grandfather. No, not the one from my father’s side of the family, the retired butcher, instead I’d be calling the one from my mother’s side, the retired lawyer.

My grandfather from my father’s side was a kind and honorable man. He’d tell me I should forgive Ilse’s ex and that life wouldn’t give us more than we could handle. He’d say I should be grateful that Ilse hadn’t sustained any permanent injuries and I should be happy that we’d get a healthy baby.

Under different circumstances, I would likely agree with his wisdom, however, Ilse’s ex-husband had touched my family and nothing in the world infuriated me more. No, instead of ‘forgive and forget’, I’d turn to my grandfather on my mother’s side. He was a man that was far more vengeful and he didn’t settle for compromises. It was his way or the highway.

You need to understand that lawyers come in two types. You have pit bulls and you have sharks. Pit bulls are in the business for the money, they like their job, but when it comes right down to it, they settle their cases as quickly as possible. That way they can move on to the next case and charge a new client, without losing a lot of time on procedures that drag on and on. If you need a case dealt with quickly, for the least amount of money, then you need to hire a pit bull.

You also have sharks; they’re the kind of lawyers who love winning a case, no matter what the cost. They’re more expensive to hire, but will also yield better results. If you had money and time, or if you couldn’t afford to lose, you’d hire a shark.

My grandfather was a shark. In fact, he used to be the biggest, meanest, and greatest white shark of them all. When he sniffed a drop of blood in the water ten kilometers away, he’d go after it and wouldn’t stop chasing his prey until he found what he was looking for.

Unbeknownst to me, he had built up au unmatched reputation in our country by any other lawyer of his generation. Before he retired, he had represented some of the biggest criminals in my country. More often than not, he had won, or at a minimum, made sure they got the lightest sentence possible.

He had a reputation for being a tough nut. Other lawyers and public prosecutors didn’t like to take up a case against him. He also maintained relations with judges, other lawyers, and public prosecutors. Very warm relations you might say. He was regularly golfing with them and he had earned the respect of many. He might have retired now, but his reputation wasn’t.

What I also didn’t know was that he was a silent associate in the law firm where he used to work. He was no longer involved in the everyday management, but he still often advised the lawyers in matters and legal strategies. When a lawyer of the firm didn’t know how to handle a case, he’d call my grandfather for advice. His firm hired some of the meanest lawyers out there, unscrupulous men who weren’t afraid to walk over corpses to get what they were after. In fact, his firm only hired sharks; pit bulls would have to look somewhere else for a job.

He also maintained close relations with many of his former clients, who were some of the biggest figures in the underworld. My grandfather was no saint, but when it came right down to it, he was a good man, who only settled for the best with everything he did.

After I explained our situation to him, I asked if he could be of any help in getting Ilse’s ex locked up and also obtaining custody of Bram and Naomi. He told me not to worry. He’d handle it. His voice sent a shiver down my spine.

After that, I heard nothing for several months.

Several weeks later, it was Valentine’s Day. To take Ilse’s mind off all the recent events, I planned to take her out to dinner. I had made reservations at a quiet little restaurant, knowing Ilse would prefer intimacy to going out at a popular place. Her black eye hadn’t fully healed. Although make-up could hide a lot, some of it was still visible. It made her feel uncomfortable if others saw her in public.

Her emotional wounds would probably take a lot longer to heal, but I knew she was a strong woman. Our concerns were mostly with the baby. We hoped that the attack wouldn’t have any lingering consequences.

Earlier that day, I had sent Ilse and her mother away along with my credit card to go shopping. I thought the women would appreciate spending quality time together. It would also give her a chance to buy something nice for dinner that evening. Because of her pregnancy, Ilse was quickly outgrowing her old wardrobe and she could use a new set of clothes. The maternity clothes she had worn during Bram and Naomi’s pregnancies were old garments from her previous life. They looked like rags, and I had told her either to throw them away or to donate them to The Salvation Army. It took considerable effort to convince her it was okay if she bought new things for herself. She deserved it.

Spending money was still something where she still had problems. After having lived on a tight budget for so many years, she had gotten in the habit of buying all her clothes second-hand or sewing her own. While I had to restrain myself from spending too much money, she had to loosen up and learn to spend more. Normally, a husband would complain about how much his wife spent on a shopping spree, but for me, it was the other way around. I complained about how little Ilse spent. I enjoyed seeing her in nice clothes, but she found it difficult to spend money on just about anything more than the essentials.

By midday though, Ilse and Anna had bought Ilse some very nice clothes, including some very seductive lingerie. Ilse didn’t want to show me everything she had bought, stating that it was a surprise for tonight. However, that didn’t stop me from trying to steal a peek or two. After being shooed out of our bedroom for the second time, I decided that it was probably for the best if I waited, lest I’d get myself into trouble with her.

It was still cold outside, but at least it wasn’t freezing anymore. In another month, it would be spring again and the weather would be much more pleasant. As it was, Ilse had bought a very nice red blouse for that evening, one that showed a moderate amount of cleavage for my viewing pleasure, and some new stretch jeans that fit her form perfectly. She told me she had wanted to buy a nice dress, but that it was still too cold for that. Not to mention, the bruises on her legs had not fully healed yet. She felt uncomfortable if those were visible.

Bram and Naomi would enjoy a sleepover with their grandparents. It was something they all enjoyed, and it offered Ilse and me some quality time. We recognized that family life could be hectic at times, but I liked to think we were all adjusting fine. The biggest change I had to get used to, was so much more life in our house. It wasn’t just my cat and me anymore. I now found our house filled with the happy shrieks from Bram and Naomi’s laughter.

After Anna took a happily singing Bram and Naomi with her, we left for the restaurant in a nearby village. It took about twenty minutes to reach it by car. Rather than running the chance of someone we knew spotting us, I thought it would be nice to take Ilse out in the country. The restaurant was located near a beautiful forest, which was perfect since I planned to take my sweetheart for a nice after-dinner walk. We both loved nature very much. We were lucky that the weather forecast predicted a cloudless sky, although it would be cold and it could possibly freeze. We brought warm jackets with us so the temperature would not be a problem.

When I drove up to the restaurant over the scarcely lit path, Ilse asked with a curious tone in her voice, “Is this the place, Tom?”

“Yes, my love. I thought you would like something a bit more secluded.”

She simply smiled at me and softly rubbed my leg with her hand, showing her appreciation of my thoughtfulness.

Ever since the assault, I noticed she had become more withdrawn than before. I hoped it would be a temporary thing, but I could understand her reaction to the event. For the time being, the authorities still had her ex locked away in jail until he had to appear in court. Despite knowing he wasn’t able to bother us, we both knew he could still severely complicate our lives once he got out of prison. Visiting a more anonymous restaurant, however, seemed to soothe her nerves, and I could see her noticeably relax. She knew tonight would be just for us.

The restaurant, located in a historic farmhouse and run by a family for two generations, had made quite a name for itself. It offered room for a maximum of twenty guests, but the other guests only occupied half of the seats at this hour. The majority of the guests would come later. Most of the food they served was homegrown, and though they specialized in traditional local dishes, there was quite a lot of choice on the menu, including several foreign dishes.

Being a true gentleman, I opened the door for Ilse and I took her coat. A moment later, a friendly host showed us to our table. By my request, she seated us in a quiet corner, away from the other guests. I offered Ilse the seat with the best view and pulled up her chair. Her lips curled up in an affectionate smile, one I hadn’t seen in a while.

It was nice to see her happy, and it made me feel warm that such simple gestures could have such an effect on my fiancée. She might still have several bruises and a fading black eye, but tonight she had never looked more beautiful. The twinkle in her eyes told me she was happy to be here with me. It made me feel special.

I thought back to that moment, so many months ago. I had nearly ruined everything with my egotistical behavior. Luckily, I could redeem myself and look at me now. I’m sitting in a cozy restaurant on Valentine’s Day with the love of my life, about to enjoy a lovely meal with equally lovely company.

A waitress soon arrived with the menu and took our orders for drinks. Her eyes lingered a moment on Ilse’s black eye, after which she gave me a frowning stare. She had the decency not to voice her thoughts or make any comments, but it somewhat distract us from the pleasant atmosphere. During the last two weeks, we had been through this several times. Those who knew the story were sympathetic, but others gave me accusing looks, embarrassing Ilse and me to no end.

It was even worse for Ilse though, especially when she was alone. People gave her a look of pity or quickly turned their eyes away. It was sad how people treated a person because of their looks, even if it was somebody else who caused the problem. I could only imagine what handicapped people or people with visible scars went through.

Over the past two weeks, we had learned to deal with the offensive behavior. That was, as much as you can get used to something like this at all. We would both be glad when the normalcy of our life returned. Ilse was a brave woman, though, and despite all her hardships, she tried not to let it drag her down. Instead, she tried her best to enjoy our first evening out since the assault.

We started our dinner with a creamy tomato soup, followed by the chef’s specialty, which included fresh vegetables and a variety of meats, after which we finished our meal with a lovely chocolate soufflé. Although we sat in a quiet corner, Ilse still received several stares throughout the evening from the other guests. Hearing some of those couples whispering while their eyes lingered in our direction, didn’t really help our mood a lot, either. Rather than staying for coffee after dinner, I paid the bill and guided Ilse out, leaving the restaurant early.

“I’m sorry,” I remarked with a deep sigh, once we were outside, “If I had known it’d be like this, I would have cooked a meal for you at home.”