Chapter 19

Sky

Kjell's words seem distant, yet they reach me. I would love to stay in this bubble where we both dance forever. But something in his tone makes me open my eyes.

"Come on, let's catch a star for you," he suggests, looking at me so lovingly that even the last trace of tension melts away.

I inhale the crisp night air, feeling it fill my lungs, and I know I've made it through. The craving for a high has vanished, and I'm myself again.

Relieved, I release my fingers from his and reach out my hand. Immediately, three snowflakes land on my jacket sleeve. I admire their intricate shapes and delicate shimmer. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Beautiful," Kjell murmurs in agreement, and as I look up at him, I notice that he's not gazing at the snowflakes but at me.

He shouldn't be doing that. Quickly, I take a step back. "You just saved my life."

"And I would do it again," he replies gently.

He probably wants to know what just happened to me. Yet he doesn't ask. And maybe that's why I want to tell him.

"I'm addicted to drugs." During therapy in England, I got used to saying this sentence. I understood that am can never be replaced by was , no matter how long I stay away from the stuff. The addiction is within me and will never let me go until the end of my days. "I've been clean for about five years," I add, so Kjell doesn't misunderstand. "Dancing helped me regain control of my life."

Kjell nods understandingly. "It's your outlet."

"Therapists call it emotion regulation. Whenever I'm in danger of losing control over my abstinence, I dance." I can still remember how I reacted to that suggestion back then. I called it bullshit , snapped at my counselor, and scratched my forearms bloody to fight the craving inside me.

Today, dance has saved me, and not for the first time.

I've never told anyone about my addiction outside of the rehab clinic. Today, I shouldn't do it either. After all, I promised my father. But how could I not tell Kjell?

The man who shared his childhood with me so brutally honestly in Milan.

The man who, without asking questions, dances a waltz with me on a rooftop in the middle of the night when I ask him to.

The man who now looks at me as if he's seeing something in me that he couldn't see before.

My secret is safe with him. I can feel it.

"It was just one summer. Only a single summer. Yet those few weeks were enough to destroy my entire life," I continue, and he tilts his head to the side.

He frowns, studying me. "The summer six years ago?" he asks thoughtfully. "The summer when you partied almost every night at Polarnatt ?"

How does he know that?

I look at him with confusion. "Were you there too?"

His smile appears sad. "Yes."

I don't remember. I have no idea why, but tears well up in me now. "Whatever I did to you, I'm so sorry." I must have been terrible to him. I can tell by the way he's looking at me now. "I wasn't myself."

The meth turned me into a lunatic. A lunatic who thought she could embrace the world with her arms and control the tiny people living on it.

I thought I was a goddess. I was strong. And I was free to do whatever I pleased. Because everything I did was always right.

There was no pressure. I set the standards myself.

Kjell looks at me with a tense jaw. "Shit," he says, running his fingers through his hair so vigorously that the snowflakes that had gathered there in the past few minutes scatter. His hands land in front of his mouth. "The sleazy guy who was always with you..."

"Levi," I say remorsefully. "It all started with him." With him and my blind infatuation.

Kjell visibly struggles to organize his thoughts. "I worked as a server at Polarnatt back then."

He was the server? Oh yes! That's how we know each other. Of course!

Swallowing hard, he fixes his gaze on me. "Why didn't I..."

Is he blaming himself? "No, it was solely my fault. No one else is responsible," I quickly reply.

He smiles vaguely, as if he doesn't believe me.

"What happened can't be changed anymore," the therapy made me realize that. "But since then, I've been doing everything to make amends."

"What do you mean?" Folds appear on his forehead.

A tightness forms in my throat. "I've ruined too much with my addiction," I force out. "My parents are incredibly disappointed."

Suddenly, his eyes widen. "That's why you disappeared all of a sudden."

I bite my lower lip. "No scandals at Touch av lyx ," I quote my father, and at that moment, I realize that I still need to tell Kjell the most important thing of all. I gaze at him intently. "My addiction is a secret that must never come to light. Under no circumstances."

"The article..." he stammers, more talking to himself than to me, reminding me of the problem that brought me here to the rooftop in the first place.

"They’ll hunt you down..." All color drains from his face. "They will try anything... And they will uncover..."

I’m instantly nauseous at Kjell's fragmented words. If he's right, I won't be safe in Stockholm anymore. "Oh God."

He looks at me intently. "They will destroy you."

I swallow hard, but it doesn't help. The last thing I need right now is the press following me everywhere. They already spotted me ice-skating with Kjell, and who knows what else.

Maybe they've been following me since my arrival?

The thought sends shivers down my spine. What have they found out by now? What articles are being written about me at this moment? How many rumors are they spreading?

"I need to go." If I stay here, everything will go downhill. My hope of reconciling with my father will be lost forever.

Kjell nods decisively. His expression is filled with compassion. He's the only person here in Sweden standing by my side. He's my friend.

Without thinking, I reach out my hand to him. "Come with me."

He doesn't hesitate for a second, placing his hand in mine. "Wherever you want."

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