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And somehow, it is. For the first time in the days since Dad passed, I am not in that constant state of tension, as if waiting for something even more terrible to happen. Is that what aftershock is about? Failure of our body to understand that worse has become the worst and now you’re left to process?

It takes four letters, one word, to take me by the hand and walk me through the images of the family I’ve had. Now, three sets of eyes look at me, waiting for my response—my safe place, the world I want to belong to. Which is literally unreachable right now, because travelling is still pretty much banned.

‘Are you okay?’ Corrie sounds as worried as I would be, if the situation was reversed.

‘Yes. I just…there are things I need to take care of, so…’

‘Of course, but we’ll text very soon.’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Shall we send hugs and kisses to Luuk?’ Corrie prompts.

Both of them open their arms, hug themselves and swivel. Their small hands go to their mouths for several kisses on their palms, then they blow at me, melting my heart.

‘You are wonderful.’ I laugh to cover my shaky voice.

Corrie kisses the top of their heads. ‘Enough to make you forget the other moments.’

‘I meant you, too,’ I clarify.

Her smile becomes bashful. ‘Shall we tell Luuk we love him and say bye?’

The kids say ‘I love you!’ at the top of their lungs and wave at me, and shortly after, the screen goes blank again. I keep staring at my reflection in the dark glass, the feeling of loss doubled. The image becomes blurry as my tangled-up feelings, while my exhausted mind replays that triple ‘I love you!’ like a sound technician; isolating the one said by Corrie. I wish they weren’t just words of comfort meant for a grieving friend.

‘Fuck…’

Because, yes, this is fucked up, this obsession with Corrie and then the kids. There’s no point in telling myself it’s a coping mechanism; I lost my family, so I’m attracted to this one, which conveniently is missing a papa. I know it’s much more, this desire to be part of their world. And because the wall called Impossible, decorated with the life-sized graffiti of Forget it is erected between me and my wishes, I go to my refuge for all things happy and sad in my life—music.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Now

Corrie

I need a proper taste of you first.

Luuk makes a point of licking his fingers clean of my arousal, before blowing a tickling breath against my sex. I want to move, because he’s left me hanging, but I also want to wait, my short-circuited brain determined to worry later about what this is. Right now, I’m too turned on by the way he takes me in, as if I’m the only person on this planet worth wasting a glance on; the way his forearms rest on my parted thighs, the way his hands explore in slow fascination.

Every hesitant gesture is met with encouraging sighs like pebbles of sound, showing the way in the dark. Except my body is lighting up; not at once but as if it has sensors just as Luuk shifts his body to lick at my seam that ends up with him teasing my clit and eliciting yet another moan. He parts my folds as his tongue finds my entrance, before it’s replaced by his two fingers, followed by a third one.

‘I want you to fuck me…’ Shit, did I say it out loud?

Luuk pauses and lifts his head to look at me. ‘No, Corrie.’

‘No?’

He shakes his head, plants a kiss on my swollen nub, and sucks as he pulls back. My impatience soars, and he notices, but only slightly curves his fingers inside me, watching me gasp, needing more.

‘I want you all blissed-out, but none of them orgasms will be a quickie this time.’

‘This time… Sounds promising.’ I try to sound confident, but internally, I’m screaming how much I want another time. And another.

‘It definitely is a promise.’ His teeth lightly graze my clit and my inner walls contract as he sucks just enough to drive me nuts. Then, he wiggles his tongue and finger-fucks me, before his thumb starts massaging those nerve endings that are about to explode.

‘There…’ I manage, pushing against him.

‘Are you gonna come for me, Corrie? Will you show me what I only listened to while fisting my cock?’