Present time

The barest amount of sun peeked behind Serenity as she stacked her bike’s wire basket with her essentials. Her bike was a black classic, old but well maintained, and a custom-designed pink-ribbon mask wrapped around the bike’s stem was the only clue to its owner’s feminine tastes.

Straightening when she was done, she ran her fingers over the handlebars and gave the seat a pat. “Ready for a run, Femke?” She closed her eyes and could almost imagine her bike nodding and humming serenely while waiting for her to get on.

A smile played on Serenity’s lips at the fanciful direction her thoughts had taken, but even so, she found herself nodding back as she straddled the seat and placed her foot on the pedal.

And then she was off.

Amsterdam in the beginning of winter was almost poignantly beautiful, especially in the early mornings. With the trees bare of leaves, they painted thin black lines on the pale orange skies that made one tempted to trace them.

Her favorite route started with a slow, leisurely pass by the canals, the early hours of the day ensuring that the roads weren’t crowded. From there, she made her way to Vondelpark, making sure to pedal faster as more locals cycled down the tree-lined paths.

After an hour, Serenity parked at her favorite spot, facing the sparkling waters of the park. Resting her bike against a sturdy tree trunk, she whipped out her blanket and laid it out on the grass before plopping down with her breakfast: cheese, bread, grapes, and her thermos, which contained her home-brewed coffee.

She ate in contented silence, savoring every bite. When she was done, she reached for her book, a dusty, pocket-sized tome that she had scored from a garage sale. Serenity opened it to the first page, and a handwritten dedication on its yellowed paper instantly caught her attention.

Ah.

Her lips twisted. Her smile faltered. Her eyes stung.

How sly and sneaky Fate was.

Her hands shook as she slowly closed the book and placed it on the blanket. She stared fiercely at her surroundings, willing herself to continue seeing its beauty. But it was too late. She was already blind.

All she could do was remember.

At first, it had been pain – just pain and nothing else. Pain at being rejected, pain at having all her dreams crushed with a single, unreturned kiss.

Serenity would have been happy if the pain had lived with her forever. When she was in pain, when she was hurt, it was easier not to remember.

But the pain hadn’t lasted.

Right now, it didn’t even exist.

Right now, all she could remember was the terrible, agonizing beauty of how it was before.

Of memories between her and…him.

She closed her eyes as she hugged her knees to herself, pleading with Fate not to make her remember. But Fate didn’t listen.

“May I ask how old are you then?”

“Fourteen, sir.”

“Well, I’m twenty-eight. Exactly twice your age.”

Serenity blinked up at the billionaire. “It’s still not old.”

Serenity bit her lip hard, but still she remembered.

Willem, giving her the first of so many gifts – a pair of shoes specially made just for her. She remembered her breathless excitement - her dazed wonder and bemused awe when she had read the words he had written.

Most of all, she remembered the times he was just there. Every important moment of her life – he had been there, a silent, steady, comforting presence that told her he would always have her back.

And slowly, she began to weep.

When the pain had been at its most devastating, Serenity had hated him – but not as much as she had hated herself. Fool, fool, fool, she had screamed silently to herself.

But now she knew it wasn’t like that.

She hadn’t been a fool.

Instead, she was a woman who had loved. The Dutch billionaire had taught her how to love, and so she had loved. She had loved him.

And love was always a beautiful thing, even when it wasn’t returned.

* * *

Willem sat alone in his estate’s balcony, a glass of scotch in his hand. The bottle on the table was nearly empty, but even so he was neither close to being drunk or even sleepy. The sun had finally started setting in the horizon, leaving streaks of color in the otherwise darkening sky. It was a beautiful sight, but it left him cold.

The truth was, all he could see was her.

It had been like that since the time she had quit…and he had let her.

He raised his glass to his lips and downed his drink in one gulp. The liquid burned his throat, and for some reason he was strangely reminded of the scalding taste of Serenity’s tears as she kissed him---

Cursing under his breath, Willem shoved all thoughts of Serenity Raleigh out of his mind and threw the glass against the marbled balusters.

But as it shattered into pieces, all he could think of was how it reminded him of how Serenity’s heart seemed to break right in front of his eyes---

Fuck.

No.

He did not want to remember anything.

He shot up to his feet, but even as he stalked back to his house, he was unable to run away from the memories.

And it was just one memory really, one that always threatened to drive him to his knees.

Her lips, soft, warm, and trembling, pressing against his---

Her voice, choking and pleading---

“Please. Please tell me you’re…you’re just pretending? You’re just controlling yourself?”

Why the fuck couldn’t he forget it?

He worked fourteen hours each day, fucked a different woman every night, and never went to bed sober.

But he still couldn’t make himself forget her.

Serenity Raleigh.

The girl who had told him in not so many words that she loved him.

Willem squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the thought occurred to him, but it was too late.

“Sere?” He remembered deliberately calling her by his personal nickname because he had wanted to remind her, selfishly, of all the years they had been together.

But when he had, Serenity had looked at him like he was no longer the hero she thought he was, and it had made him furious.

“Do I really have to answer that?” He remembered how her voice threatened to crack at the very end, but he also remembered how he had allowed his self-righteous fury to bury his guilt for being so damn selfish.

“Do I really have to answer that?” Even then, Willem had known it had been a crass thing to say, but he had still said it. Because even then, he had realized that his fury wasn’t just to conceal his guilt. It was also there to conceal his fear, which was even more difficult to accept.

“T-then…I need you to stand up.”

And he had done it, even though the most risk-averse part of him had roared at Willem to get the hell out, to leave before his whole world spun off its axis.

“Now what?”

“C-come here.”

And like the self-righteous bastard he now knew himself to be, he had ignored everything his instincts were warning him against and had done what Serenity had asked.

He had come to her.

The reminder made him swear and rake his hand through his hair. Goddammit. What a smug bastard he had been. She was his nineteen-year-old intern. He was her thirty-three-year-old boss. He was light years ahead of her in experience, and he had allowed her to command him just like that.

That should have been the only warning he had needed.

But he had chosen to play deaf, and he was now paying the price.

Willem’s fists slammed down on the handrail. “Damn you.” The words were torn out of him, but he wasn’t certain if he was cursing Serenity, himself, or Fate.

All he knew was that nothing was working.

He could not forget her, and fair or not, right or wrong, Willem despised Serenity for it.

He had already allowed himself to be weak once, out of his love for his family.

He would not allow the same thing to happen again, not even for Serenity.