Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(125)

“They found her ID in her purse, Mr. Van Dieren. That’s how they reached us.”

“How is she?” Roy asks.

“Janine, tell us! How is she?”

“She’s not conscious… The doctors advised to come as soon as possible.”

With a defiant glare, Roy looks back at the agent sitting on his chair. “Get us a helicopter. We’ll leave now.”





Pennsylvania Hospital, March 6, 2020





When we get to the hospital, we’re escorted by a physician to room forty-two on the fifth floor.

Janine starts sobbing when she sees Petra lying in bed, unconscious and wrapped in white bandages. I try to remain calm and comfort Janine, but my heart is as paralyzed as hers.

Roy walks closer to the bed. “When is she going to wake up?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t know, Mr. Van Gatt. The head injuries and her unconscious state are serious. There is no response so far to any neurological stimuli. So, it could be in one day, one week, one month… or longer.” The physician takes the report and reads further. He raises his eyebrows, rubs his eyelids, takes a deep breath, and, for some reason, looks at me. “I don’t know if you knew or not, but”—he pauses for an instant— “she was also about fifteen weeks pregnant. Unfortunately, the fetus didn’t survive the accident. The miscarriage was instant. We performed a D&C surgery to remove the fetal tissue left in her womb to prevent further complications. I’m truly sorry to have to give you this news.”

The reality too harsh to face, I close my eyes and press my lips tightly together. I feel so much rage, anger, and hate consuming me. I never should have followed Roy’s “wise” advice. I should’ve followed my heart, gotten down on one knee when she announced her pregnancy, told her how much I love her, how happy I was, and kissed her. But I didn’t. And all this rage, anger, and hate are entirely toward myself. I feel my eyes watering and a tear already coursing down. This is my fault. I promised to protect her, told her no one would ever hurt her again, and I’m the one who did the worst.

I look back at Roy. He seems distant, far away, in denial of this nightmare. “Are you telling us you don’t know when she will wake up? How is this possible?”

“She is in a coma, Mr. Van Gatt.” The physician takes a deep breath. “Comas can last several days to several years. So far, her heart, lungs, and brain are stable. She can breathe on her own, which is very important. But we can’t predict if she’ll ever wake up, or if she does, how she’ll be afterwards. The medication can only prevent further physical and neurological damage. But rest assured, only rare comas last longer than a month—most patients wake up after a week or two.”

Roy shakes his head. “Can we transfer her back to New York?”

“I’d like to have her here for at least a week or two to examine and monitor her condition. Then, if she doesn’t wake up, you can transfer her.”

“Oh God, Tess is calling…” Roy takes the call despite it coming at the worst moment. “Tess, how are you…? Petra’s unfortunately not available right now. She is…” He swallows hard. “Can you get a flight to Philadelphia or New York? It would be easier to explain once you get here.”





Pennsylvania Hospital, March 7, 2020

Tess Hagen





If there’s one thing we mutually agreed upon and respected these last seventeen years, it was that I would never step foot in New York and Roy in Rotterdam. We each have our territory, our cities—our space. Roy rarely comes to the Netherlands, and I, a proud born and raised Rotterdammer, never much enjoyed the other side of the Atlantic either. But today I’m landing on American soil after seventeen years.

I nearly collapse when I find out my daughter is in a coma. Roy and Alexander are standing near the closed door, faces down and serious. They don’t know what to say or do—the duo remain speechless.

“The doctors said they should be able to remove the bandages in four weeks,” mumbles Roy after a long silence.

I want to cry out loud, but the rage and hate I have for these men is so grave, so deep, that I place a tender kiss on my daughter’s forehead, stand up from the bed, and make a life-changing decision. “I’m moving to New York to take care of her. Enough is enough!”

“You’re not moving here. Forget it, Tess!” barks Roy. “Alexander is leaving for Singapore. You won’t have to worry about him anymore,” he reassures me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” rebukes Van Dieren, looking at us. “Tess, I truly love her. More than anything in life. You are hurting her as much as me. Just accept it and move on. Let her be happy with me.”

“Never, Van Dieren!” I point my index finger at him in disgust. “You’re a fucking disgusting pervert! This relationship is cursed! This is not love—this is a cruel and twisted obsession! You better go to Singapore, unless you want to lose everything!”

Van Dieren doesn’t say a word. He starts rubbing his eyelids and takes a deep breath before looking me in the eye again. “I won’t disappear again without saying goodbye,” he adds feebly. “Let me take care of her until she wakes up.” But I remain mute, unmoving. “I just lost a baby and the woman I love, for God’s sake! Can’t you at least do that?”