Page 97 of AMS.TER.strum

Gwen: And their mom?

Luuk: She’s my best friend; we’ve known each other for years.

Gwen: And?

Luuk: She’s the love of my life.

The room’s temperature has risen to oven-hot. I was definitely not expecting this public declaration of love for the world to hear. I miss him even more now, and there’s still no response to my messages. I scroll for Aaron’s number. His voice sounds surprised when he picks up.

‘Hi, Aaron, it’s Corrie.’

‘Ah, the love of his life.’ Clearly, he finds this anything but adorable.

‘Uh…I’m trying to contact Luuk…’

‘Why the hell should I know where he is?’ Definitely not a fan of mine.

‘As his manager, you know his schedule…’

‘Not anymore,’ he cuts me off.

‘Sorry, what?’

‘Not his manager anymore.’

‘O…kay.’

‘No, not okay!’ Is that noise a fist landing on a surface? ‘After all I did for this kid…’

‘I have to go, Aaron.’

I have no idea how to end the call. And Aaron offers the solution by hanging up first. No parting words whatsoever, no reason to pretend anymore, I guess. Which still leaves the question about Luuk’s whereabouts pending.

Otto stirs in his sleep, his face peaceful, and I’m already counting down the moments to get back home to our messy happiness and resume our precious routine. Where I’m longing to include our missing piece, who’s still MIA.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Luuk

‘OLVG West,’ I tell the taxi driver, still panting from my sprint through Schiphol, and he types the hospital’s name in his GPS before we head off.

The city is waking up on a grey summer day that one hopes will let the sunshine through. The greens are more intense, glistening from the rain that must have fallen not long ago. As expected on a workday, swarms of cyclists are going about their daily chores on all sorts of bikes, in all sorts of attires, some parking their vehicles in the designated area, as I go through the building’s wide revolving door.

‘Otto Dekker,’ I tell the receptionist. ‘Appendectomy. I’m his dad.’ The words roll off my tongue as if they’ve always been there, waiting to be pronounced.

She taps and clicks, then looks up from her screen. ‘Ah, yes. He will probably be released today.’

‘May I go see him?’

‘Sure.’

I follow her directions to the paediatric ward, heart pounding when I stand outside the door. My pulse slows down after a few breaths, and I wipe my eyes. I knock lightly, push the door that hardly makes any noise, and my lungs become short of air, as a fist tightens around my throat.

On a bed too big for his small body is Otto, so out of place in this room that’s so different from his space-bunkbed. The faint smell of disinfectant adds to the reminder of where we are. Corrie is folded over his bed, his small hand in hers, hair fanned on the cover, fast asleep, and I can only imagine her exhaustion, if she’s able to pass out in such an uncomfortable posture. Otto’s eyes flutter, opening a slit, as he tries to focus.

‘Luuk?’

His voice is barely a sigh, but his smile makes up for it, melting my heart. Corrie doesn’t stir, so I bring my index to my lips and approach Otto’s bed.