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When there’s still no reply as I’m about to hit the shower, I text again.

Me

Is everything okay?

This time, the text isn’t even delivered. I wait to see whether the one-check will become two, but nothing happens, while my previous texts still haven’t been read. I hit call, only to hear her voicemail.

‘Hey, baby, are you okay? Did you get my texts? Call me whenever you have time.’

The waterfall pelting my body does nothing to quieten my thoughts.

I quickly towel myself dry and call her number again, but I get voicemail once more. I have hardly hung up when the thought emerges: could she have been spooked by all the gossip regarding us? Does she want to protect herself and the kids from me? Although I understand where Corrie might be coming from, she wouldn’t just cut me off from their lives without a word. The idea hurts like having a severed limb, although in my case I’m the limb needing the body it belongs to. Because I belong with them.

Regardless of how affected Corrie is by being cornered and thrown stones at, I need to silence this idiocy the soonest. Maybe kill two birds with one stone while at it? I look down at the passing cars, trying to clear my head. Finally, I swipe my screen, scroll and press the call button.

Gwen answers on the second ring, sounding as astounded as I expected. ‘It will be a cold day in Hell if Luuk Meiers calls me instead of me chasing him.’

‘Do you have a time slot for an interview?’

Gwen knows this is most probably a one-time offer. ‘When?’

‘ASAP.’

‘What’s the catch?’

I deeply dislike the woman, but she does know how things work.

‘I need your source behind the bad fairy tales you’ve been publishing.’

‘I can’t reveal my sources…’

‘Okay, I’m sure Richard can.’

With his own share of shit-spreading posts, Richard Oakes is Gwen’s biggest competitor. I imagine her flinching at the sound of his name, which was exactly my intention.

‘You wouldn’t!’

I shrug. ‘Why not? He’s also one call away.’

There are a few beats of silence, before she says, ‘Fine.’

And this is how I find myself in Gwen’s studio an hour later, wearing a pair of headphones, microphone in front of me, camera recording, doing a live show, because shit has to be served fresh.

‘Hello everyone, surprise-surprise, we’ve got a live one today, and a rather unexpected one, I must say. With me, here at the studio, is none other than Luuk Meiers! He’s been the talk of the town lately after a series of allegations surfaced, and tonight, he’s here, exclusively, to set the record straight. Welcome, Luuk.’

I return the bright smile—fake of course, just like hers—Gwen sends me. ‘Good to be here again.’

For the next hour, Gwen’s audience gets my side of the story, and there are even a few questions while I’m boiling inside, the stabs of betrayal drawing blood. For, as we agreed, right before the interview, Gwen gave me the answer I needed. And having to wait is probably a good thing, because it gives me time to let the thoughts in the back of my mind settle, allowing my decisions to not be hasty.

Afterwards, I leave the studio and step out in the open air. It’s not exactly pristine, but feels like the most oxygen I’ve breathed in a while, instead of having it cut, right when I started feeling alive. And although I need to process the hurt, I’m like an animal that has just escaped the claws of a foothold trap: in pain, but free. And with a clear head as to what will be done next.

Now I need to call Corrie, determined to ask Iris if everything is okay, if I still don’t reach her. Or D-licious and ask Dory what’s going on. But then another name pops on my screen as my phone starts buzzing: Lola García.

‘Lola? Is everything okay?’

‘Luuk?’

The voice in my ear isn’t an adult’s. It belongs to the little girl I’d do anything for. And now my heart starts racing in panic.