Chapter 30
Kjell
"Let me repeat, Jakob." I sigh heavily and place the pens I scattered on my desk during the day back in their holder. "The Blohm article is dead."
His forehead wrinkles, and he pushes his lower lip forward. It's undeniable: he doesn't understand. And I wouldn't either in his place.
"Something's not right here," he says, concerned. "Before you went to ?land, you were sure you had a major story in your hands."
My stomach ties itself into knots. "I was mistaken."
Oh God.
I don't want to lie to him, but what else can I do? If I confide in Jakob about what I've found out, everything could spiral out of control. He'll publish Sky's story, and that would not only be her downfall but mine as well.
"Bullshit." His hand slams on the desk. I've never seen him like this before. What the hell is wrong with him? "As if you've ever been wrong about something like this. You just have to look at people to know they're hiding something."
That might be true, but it's not as simple anymore. My once clearly defined boundaries have become soft lines that blur into each other. So much so that sometimes I can't see them anymore.
"Why are you doing this?" There's disappointment in Jakob's voice, and that's even worse than the fear that had gripped him before. "Do you have something going on with that girl? Is that why our dream doesn't matter to you anymore?"
Of course, it still matters to me. But Sky means just as much to me, at least. I jump up from my chair to release some of the pressure building inside me. "We don't need the Blohm story; there are much more interesting stories out there."
"Then it's true." My best friend shakes his head in frustration. "Two months ago, you fought the Ryktesspegeln with all your might. You were so upset about your journalistic integrity that you wanted to publish under a pseudonym."
"And that's still the case," I quickly clarify, avoiding any mention of Sky and me. None of those articles will ever be published under my name.
At this moment, I realize how lucky I've been so far. If Sky had stumbled upon any of my previous articles, she would have known who I really am.
What if it still happens? And before she's ready to deal with it?
No, she won't find out. Only Sanningens ?gonblick has my name, and it's an insignificant newspaper. Besides, currently, they only publish one issue per quarter. She would have to actively search for it to find out. And even then, it could be a simple coincidence. After all, I'm not the only Kjell Mattson in Sweden.
I shake off the unease from my body, but it clings to me. In desperation, I look at Jakob. "If you don't have an idea for a story, I'll find one myself. No problem."
His shoulders slump forward heavily. "Do that," he replies, rubbing his eyes, which have deep shadows under them. "But do it quickly, okay?" I've heard that pleading tone again in our phone conversations during my time on ?land.
He's hiding something from me, and I've known that for longer than just today. Our situation might be much worse than he's admitted so far.
I feel a cold fear creeping up my spine, a fear I've never had in my life: the fear of the truth. And what it's connected to. The pressure it would impose on me. The impossible decision I'd have to make. The consequences it could bring.
Heaven, what have I become in the past few weeks? Since when do I fear the truth?
"I have to go now," I force out, not giving panic a chance to take over, and grab my jacket from the desk chair.
Jakob says nothing and just looks at me sadly.
"See you tomorrow." I rush out of the office.
Down the stairs, out into the cold winter night. Neither the crisp air nor the starry sky can calm me. I bury my hands in my jacket pockets, feeling the plastic packaging from Milan that's still there. The grissini is reduced to crumbs, but I crush it once again with my fist.
My questions started all this mess.
And thanks to her answers, I'm now trapped in a web of lies. The sticky threads are closing tightly around my neck, yet I quicken my pace to get to Sky's as soon as possible.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and reread her message from this afternoon. I need your help. 7 pm, at my place , it says, and she didn't need to write more because I remember the promise I made to her on the drive back to Stockholm.
That promise, at least, I'll keep because it was supposed to be the truth.
A half hour later, she opens the door wearing sunglasses and a pulled-up scarf. "Hej," she whispers, immediately stepping away from the door as if she's afraid reporters are lurking behind the bushes at the property line.
Her paranoid expression fuels the inner conflict that has haunted me since our return from ?land. The desire to protect her from herself and from what she's doing clashes with the self-loathing that my knowledge, that I'm lying to her for that very reason, triggers in me.
I have to push that aside, or it will consume me, so I step inside and look around the entrance hall. Why did she want me to come here? The chandelier, heavy curtains, and the runner that runs straight to the double staircase are in perfect condition. Nothing is broken here. And Sky clearly doesn't need a dance partner to maintain control.
I study her but only see relief in her expression as she sheds her disguise.
"How can I help?" I ask, struggling to meet her eyes due to my guilty conscience.
Instead of answering, she takes my hand and leads me through the entrance area into a living room. It's illuminated with indirect light, candles burning on the set table. A gentle vanilla scent and mellow jazz music fill the room.
"This," she says with a smile, guiding me to the table. There, she pulls out a chair and signals for me to sit. "I hope you're hungry."
Confused, I sink into the thickly padded chair. She cooked for me? I look up at her. "Is this a date, by any chance?"
"It's a thank-you," she replies, but her expression whispers a mischievous maybe.
There are flowers on the table and a wine bottle in a cooler. I spot silverware reflecting the candle flames. And those metallic covers on the plates. "What did I do to deserve this?"
The grin on her face transforms into a soft smile. She takes her seat on the other side of the table and retrieves the wine bottle from its ice bed.
"By giving me back my best friend," she says as she pours us wine, her eyes sparkling as she sweetly nibbles her lower lip, making it impossible for me to look away. She raises her glass, we clink, then take a sip of the white wine. "How did I manage that?" I ask, warmth filling my chest, hoping that my wishes for her are actually coming true.
She motions for me to remove the food cover from the plate with a hand gesture. Underneath the elegant cover is spaghetti. I chuckle and reach for the fork.
As we eat, she tells me about how what I said to her on ?land encouraged her to tell Lil the truth about what happened back then. With each passing sentence, I feel a little lighter, and when she smiles happily, I can even stop hating myself for a moment.
"Lil and I still have a long way to go. But it's a start." Her eyes gleam in the flickering candlelight. "Opening up to her was the right thing to do. And confiding in Aurora afterward was the right choice too. At first, she didn't believe me, but in the end, she forgave me." She finishes her story while I feel like I'm floating above my chair.
She's taken such an incredible step, more than I could have dreamed of in such a short time. Sky has truly chosen the right path.
As twisted as it may seem, keeping my true identity hidden from her is the right thing. I realize that now even though I can barely stand the self-loathing inside me. It's important to endure this for Sky's sake.
I reach for her hand. "Who would have thought?" I ask, gently caressing the thin rings between the joints of her middle finger.
Suddenly, she withdraws her hand from mine, stands up from her chair, and approaches me. Only rarely do I find myself at a loss for words, but this is one such moment. The warm light of the candles illuminates her face. She brushes her hair back and looks at me with such ease.
It's as if I'm trapped in a dream.
Surreal.
Otherworldly.
Beautiful.
Even though all she does is stand in front of me, my pulse quickens. Warmth spreads within me. I don't know what this woman does to me, but I'm utterly helpless to it.
Without breaking eye contact, she guides my knees together with her hands, takes another step, and gets so close that the tips of her curls tickle my ears. Her bare cleavage dominates my field of vision. I watch as her breasts arch under the neckline of her shirt, and I catch the scent of her skin.
My heart beats excitedly.
Before I can comprehend what's happening, she descends. I see her neck, her chin, her lips. Then her nose and finally her eyes, which look at me with so much love that I forget everything around me.
"Thank you," she whispers, her lips so close to mine. "Thank you for being here. I couldn't have done it without you."
Until this moment, I thought no more walls within me could collapse. But now I feel the last one dissolving in seconds.
Everything will be all right between us. I feel it with every fiber of my being. I just need to hold on a little longer—for Sky's sake.
"I..." I love you, Sky Blohm. So much that your happiness means more to me than my own . I'd love to say it, but she stops me with a passionate kiss.
I sigh contentedly, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her closer. Her presence is security in its purest form. She is love. She is trust.
She is a fresh start. And until this moment, I hadn't realized how much I'd longed for it.