Chapter 35
It is early in the morning when Anton opens his eyes. He had lain awake for a long time, didn’t fall asleep until about two, then was plagued by weird, incomprehensible dreams about the body in the snow.
Carl is sleeping by his side, still turned away, exactly as he has been all night.
This is the first time they have had a serious quarrel, and the first time they have gone to bed without sorting a problem.
Anton props himself up on one elbow so that he can see Carl better.
In sleep he looks completely relaxed. His fair eyelashes are resting on his winter-pale skin, his hair on the pillow. His mouth, which spoke such harsh words last night, is once again soft and tempting.
They both grew up in Duved, around ten minutes’ drive from ?re, and went to the same elementary school. But because Anton is a couple of years older, they never hung out back then.
Until they bumped into each other at Bygget two years ago.
Anton loves the memory of that evening. The attraction was immediate, a bolt of lightning, and they spent a few fantastic days together.
Until he threw everything away.
Carl was an important witness in an ongoing homicide case, and Anton, who was right in the middle of the investigation, didn’t dare to show how much Carl meant to him. Whatever they had simply disappeared.
Against all the odds, he got another chance a year later.
At the time he found it hard to believe that he could be so lucky, and he was prepared to do anything to win Carl back.
Until reality caught up with him.
Is he in the process of destroying their relationship for the second time?
Before Carl came into his life, Anton had almost given up hope of meeting anyone.
He had more or less resigned himself to living alone, and hid behind the cliché of the “eternal bachelor.” It was easier to pretend that he had never met the right person than to explain what his sexual orientation actually was.
Is Carl growing tired of the fact that Anton is still playing that role, refusing to stand up and acknowledge that they are a couple?
Every time Carl tries to raise the issue, Anton ducks and dives and changes the subject. However, the longer they are together, the more he worries that Carl will grow tired of the secrecy and deliver an ultimatum.
Anton groans to himself.
This is his fault; he has only himself to blame.
He buries his head in the pillow and curses his behavior, hating himself for his cowardice. He doesn’t want to be a person who hides behind half truths and evasion. Carl is worth more than that. He deserves a partner who is proud to be seen with him.
And yet it is still too difficult.
Through the gap between the roller blind and the window ledge, he can just see an ice-cold Duved. Under normal circumstances he would have rolled over, close to Carl’s body, maybe woken him with a kiss and explained that he had to leave early because of the new case.
But right now Anton doesn’t know if he dare touch him.
He is afraid of being rejected, afraid of seeing the disappointment in Carl’s eyes as the memory of yesterday evening returns.
Maybe Carl will ask him to get out?
Or even worse, finish with him?
Anton slips out of bed and gathers up his clothes. It’s probably better to leave Carl in peace for a while. Give him some space.
Carl probably won’t want to see him when he wakes up.
Anton gets dressed and lingers in the hallway, hesitates. Should he leave a note? He grabs a pen and a piece of paper and scribbles down the words.
Sorry. I love you.
But then his courage fails. He screws up the note and shoves it into his pocket before quietly leaving the apartment.