Chapter 25
Maya
Sitting on the jetty, I support myself on my hands and stretch my face toward the sky. The sun's rays warm my skin, and a tingling sensation spreads through my body.
"Another one!" Sophia can't get enough of the fish in the water. She nudges me. "You missed it this time."
"Sorry, but I just can't take my eyes off this blue." I continue gazing upward. "What color do you think it is?"
Sophia lies down beside me on her back. "Looks like Smurf ice cream." She giggles, turning her body toward me. "Can I have some ice cream?"
"That's a great idea." I grin at her conspiratorially. "Shall we see if Jasmin got some?"
Before I can finish my question, the little one jumps up. "Yeeees!"
It's so beautiful to see her like this. Once again, the memory of the moment in the hospital resurfaces, when I realized what Sophia and I had accomplished together.
The film runs through my mind effortlessly, as it has done so many times in the past few days, ending with me kissing Josh as if there were no tomorrow. And even though forty-eight hours have passed since then, I still feel how much I would love to kiss him over and over again, every day and every night. I shouldn't. But I can't help it.
"Come on, Maya." Sophia tugs at my hand.
I struggle to push the thoughts of Josh away. But if I can't get him out of my heart, at least he shouldn't haunt my mind as well. I stand and brush the wood shavings off my ruffled skirt. "I'm ready."
Together, we hop toward our Swedish wooden house. I love this little cabin with its red-painted beams and white window shutters. A rocking chair with a cozy fur blanket on the porch sits right next to one of those rustic tubs. Before we reach there, the front door opens from the inside.
Josh steps out. And even though he hasn't fully recovered from his surgery, he looks incredibly good.
The three-day beard gives his face a touch of recklessness, and the tousled hair makes him appear relaxed. He spots us and gives us a smile. Nothing more is needed to make everything inside me melt. Shyly, I smile back.
Sophia breaks free from my grip and rushes toward him. He goes down on his knees and catches her. The way they hug each other warms me from within. Slowly, I approach them.
"Maya and I want ice cream," the little one announces to her father, beaming. "Do you want some too?"
"Nothing I would rather do." Wistfulness lingers in his voice. Hopefully, he won't tell his daughter right away that he doesn't even have time for that.
I quickly run to the house. "Three ice creams. Coming right up," I call out, so he doesn't even have the chance to come up with an excuse. As I look back, I realize it wasn't even necessary. He gives Sophia a high-five and then offers to swing with her.
Is this really happening? Has Josh taken a step toward his daughter for the first time without me pushing him? I observe them as they walk together toward the big birch tree, where the swing is mounted.
Josh is amazing.
Every part of me longs to fall into his arms. Just like in the hospital two days ago, I want to be with him, rest my head on his chest, and listen to his heartbeat. I want him to cover me with his scent and warmth.
Being close to him is like dancing barefoot in the summer rain. And kissing him is like touching shooting stars. It seems impossible, but it's everything I need.
"Where's the ice cream, Maya?" Sophia calls out.
She brings me back to reality. I quickly turn to leave.
I walk into the house, over the creaking floorboards of the narrow hallway, and make my way to the kitchen. On my way to the freezer, I pass by the dining table, where something catches my attention.
A stack of papers with notes, as well as a calendar, lay before me. I step closer, feeling a bit like a spy, yet I inspect the documents. Beneath the calendar, there are fan letters. I unfold one of them and discover a photo of a woman who surely works as a model. She smiles openly, making her instantly likable. The accompanying text mentions that she attends all of his concerts and would love to meet him.
I place the documents back in their place and open the calendar. It's filled with appointments. As I go through them one by one, my body feels heavier with each passing moment. This man lives a life without pause. He stands in the spotlight, performs concerts, and has achieved so much. He could have the most attractive women in the world, and he can buy whatever he desires.
On the other hand, the four thousand euros that I will receive as my first salary in a few days are a fortune. Finally, I'll be able to pay the oil bill, and there will even be some left over to get rid of the electricity debt and replace the broken microwave. I'm not a model, and I have no clue how to behave as a public figure.
Lost in thought, I sink onto the wooden bench. At this moment, it has become clear to me that hardly anything connects our two lives. And since our kiss, Josh hasn't even attempted to be alone with me. Perhaps he has forgotten entirely, thanks to the lingering effects of the anesthesia. But what if he does remember and simply avoids closeness with me because it meant nothing to him?