Despite everything, I love Gabriel. It’ll take time to forgive and deal with my past, and great effort to work toward trusting Gabriel again, but there’s positive in the negative. If not for that fatal day of thirteen February, I’d be married to Lambert Roos, living a loveless life in a run-down house in the south of Johannesburg with five or six kids, putting red lipstick on just to get through the day. If Magda hadn’t orchestrated Charlie’s debt at Napoli’s, I wouldn’t have walked in the night I laid eyes on Gabriel. If Gabriel weren’t supposed to have killed me, he wouldn’t have saved me. I’ll always mourn my parents and what happened to Charlie. My scars will never fade completely, but my past doesn’t have to dictate who I become. I choose not to be a victim. Owen may have broken my body and ruined my youth, but I won’t give him my spirit.
Gabriel broke me, and he made me whole again. He taught me the meaning of love and gave me a beautiful baby who takes that love to a whole different level. When he took me from Berea, he didn’t give me a choice, and I’ve floated in the blameless absolution he offered for far too long. Gabriel’s prisoner or not, it’s time to take a stand. Back then, I took an unwilling vow to pay off the debt for nine years. Now I’ll make my promises willingly. I’d never want a killer as a father for Connor, but Gabriel works for Michael, now. There’s nothing left standing between us. I choose this love. It’s mine to have and to hold, and I’ll give it my damnedest best shot until death do us part.
Gabriel
The next few days pass in a blur. Between painting the nursery and arranging Magda’s funeral, I stay with Valentina and Connor as often and long as possible. Quincy, Rhett, and I have the baby equipment covered, or at least I think so. I have no clue if the milliard things we bought remotely covers everything, because I hadn’t been involved in preparations for Carly. That was taken care of by a nurse and interior decorator. Readying a room for Connor gives me immense pleasure. I install a baby monitor with webcam so Valentina can watch him from anywhere in the house. I put up barriers at the top and bottom of the stairs, protective covers on all the corners of the tables and counters, and baby locks on the cupboards with cleaning and hazardous products. I fix a lockable cover on the Jacuzzi, put bars in front of all the upstairs windows, and install an alarm and fence around the swimming pool. Certain that the house is baby safe, I pull out all the poisonous plants in the garden, as well as cover up the fishpond. I read on the internet a toddler can drown in as little as two centimeters of water. I take Charlie to visit Valentina and Connor and prep him on being a good uncle. Rhett and Quincy are at the hospital more than home, eager to try out all the contraptions they bought and disappointed when they’re told they’d have to wait until Connor can maintain his body temperature and has gained sufficient weight.
Magda’s funeral is the day before Valentina comes home. I arranged it like this on purpose, not wanting her to be a part of the event. Magda doesn’t deserve her parting wishes, and I doubt Valentina would want to pay her any. The service is private, for family only, which means just me. It’s not that I don’t want her friends and business associates to pay their respects. I just can’t face the sharks who’ll circle the waters, waiting eagerly for bits of bait as to how I’m going to handle the business promotions, new appointments, pay-offs, and bribes. It seems fitting that it’s me alone to witness Magda’s weakest moment, when her coffin is lowered into the earth. Even in death, she takes her rightful place next to my father, the way she’d bought the plots years ago. The old graveyard in Emmarentia is full now with no more space for a soul. My body won’t rest here, and that, too, seems fitting. I said my goodbyes before she died. I cut my ties the day in Napoli’s.
In the late afternoon, Magda’s attorney reads her will. It doesn’t come as a surprise that she’d added a clause. I’m still her sole heir, but the wealth can only be bequeathed or redistributed in the event of my death. Always thorough, Magda made sure I can’t give Valentina or my only surviving child a cent. Magda’s hate for the girl we ruined stretches beyond life, all the way to her grave. Valentina can’t lay a finger on the Louw family fortune, not even as my lawfully, wedded wife, since we got married outside of community of property. Not until I’m dead. Which poses a problem if I’m to give her the freedom I pledged on her life. There’s no way I’m sending her and my child penniless into the world.