Chapter 31
Sky
The sky over Stockholm is overcast. On my way to the hospital, countless snowflakes landed on the small patch of skin exposed between my hat, pulled down low over my forehead, and the scarf, pulled up high.
Within fractions of a second, they melted. Because I am still heated from last night. And from the night before when Kjell and I fell asleep together for the first time.
Unchanged, I feel the fire that Kjell ignites in me every day. I taste his kisses on my lips, and his scent lingers on my skin. More than half an hour has passed since I peeled myself away from his arms this morning, kissed his forehead, and brushed my fingers through his hair. None of it could wake him up, so I left him a message before I left.
Visiting Father early in the morning is the only way to avoid prying eyes. I check the fit of my wig, enter the neurological ward where he was transferred last week, and walk down the eerily quiet hallway to his room.
"Hej," I say when I stand before him a little later, reaching for his hand. His abrasions have healed, and his head is no longer bandaged. Although his cheeks have sunken in and his skin is pale, he looks more like himself again.
Immediate guilt seizes me for not being here yesterday.
"I'm sorry for coming only today," I apologize, without explaining my absence. After our first night together, Kjell and I overslept. The brief window I arranged with June for my secret hospital visits had long passed.
I should tell him, but he wouldn't approve if he knew a man was distracting me. "How are you?" I ask, avoiding any mention of my absence.
If he could, he'd probably grumble and complain about not being able to work.
"Listen," I continue, brushing off his bad mood. "I have something to tell you."
Every time I'm here, I want to report successes, but until now, I had none to share.
Today is different.
I describe my idea to participate in Chloe Morrigan's competition and how I came up with it. "But you probably aren't that interested," I finish the extremely condensed version less than a minute later so as not to bore him. "More importantly, how did the employees react, right?"
You didn't mess it up, did you? Father's voice in my imagination sounds concerned.
"Of course not!" I retort, looking at him seriously, only to regret it a second later. After all, I understand all too well why he doesn't trust me.
Is he sighing right now?
Yes. A thin grumble escapes his mouth.
He can hear me!
My pulse immediately quickens. What if my report wakes him up? June says it could happen any day—or never. Until now, I wasn't sure if my words were reaching him. The idea that it might actually be true fills me with panic.
What if he's not pleased with me?
What if he finds my new ideas for Touch av lyx ridiculous?
For a moment, I consider giving up on this. It would be easier. But it would also be wrong. In his condition, he can't harm me. He can't even interrupt me.
I straighten my shoulders resolutely. "I've realized that I don't have to behave like you to be successful," I say, doing something that only existed outside my imagination for years. I'm contradicting him.
"Yesterday morning, I spoke to the employees. I told them, 'You are Touch av lyx; I just happen to be the boss's daughter who's lost without your help.'"
I hold my breath tensely, watching Father's reaction. There's no movement behind his closed eyelids, and the sighing has stopped. Instead, his voice echoes in my mind.
Have you lost your mind? Employees need strict leadership; otherwise, you'll never control them.
A month ago, I would have agreed with him. But today, I know that's not true. "There's not only one way to do things right," I say cautiously, realizing that I've never questioned anything he taught me. "Just because my approach is different doesn't mean it's worse."
Wow. Did I just express my opinion to him? Euphoria sweeps over me, along with a strength I haven't felt in years.
In a drug-induced haze.
It's incredible that I'm experiencing this feeling completely sober now!
Yes, he lies there defenseless before me. He can neither reprimand nor chastise me, nor can he show me the disappointment I fear so much.
Nevertheless, I've achieved a small victory—not over him but over my perpetual fear of not living up to his expectations.
"I followed my instincts. I was compassionate," I add with newfound courage, fully aware he would send me to hell for these words if he were conscious. "During the meeting, I spoke to the employees as if we were friends. 'In Milan, I made a terrible mistake,' and I said it so loudly that even the janitors in the back row could hear. 'Today, I'm here to make amends for that mistake. For my father, who can't be with us, but most importantly, for all of you.'"
In my imagination, a furrow of anger forms between his brows. You apologized?
"I did," I reply firmly. "And I also told them that I'm lost without them. That Touch av lyx is lost without them." Because it's the truth. These people, no matter what they do for the company, are the most important.
Not me. I'm just a part, doing my best like everyone else.
You've lost your mind , Father now answers his own question from earlier. What did I do wrong to make you do this to me?
What he hurls at me inside my head pains me deeply in my chest. Because I know what he'll criticize next, and I don't want to hear it.
"It was a success, Father," I quickly reply and nod vigorously. "Everyone wants to participate. Well, everyone except Kahlo." He just stared at me the whole time, shaking his head. Arms tightly crossed, repeatedly snorting in annoyance. As soon as the meeting was over, he disappeared.
Pfff, Father scoffs grumpily. Those deceitful lot. They played along with you, and as soon as you left the room, they gossiped about you instead of working .
Is that how he thinks of his employees? That's... terribly disrespectful.
"You know, we don't have to agree. Let's just see how things unfold," I say, trying to sound composed but with a significant amount of fear in my gut.
Yes, the employees applauded me. They nodded in agreement after I asked for their help. And except for Kahlo, they all reacted positively to my idea of participating in the competition. If they hadn't thought it was a good idea, we wouldn't be submitting a design. That's exactly what I told them, and they still agreed.
They didn't pretend, did they?
Don't be so foolish, Sky , whispers Father inside my head. Don't do this to me. Not again.
I swallow hard but can't shake the thought that he might be right. The strength I felt just moments ago, burning inside me like a roaring fire, turns into a trembling flame. And the way Father is now fixating on me in my imagination feels like a strong gust of wind that extinguishes it instantly.
What is wrong with you? Why are you behaving so irrationally? he probes.
Stupid. Irrational. The words echo within me. It's not the first time he's used them.
Ah, yes, I knew it . His lips thin into a tight line. Another year, the same mistake , he says with disappointment.
"No, you can't compare it to back then." My voice quivers like parchment paper. "Kjell is different. He doesn't want anything bad for me, not at all. He doesn't pressure me into anything; I make the decisions myself."
Father turns his gaze away from me. I have important matters to attend to.
Instinctively, I reach for his hand. "No, please, don't go."
Silently, he closes his eyes in my imagination. Helpless to bring him back, I watch as darkness engulfs him.
I'm left alone in a silence interrupted only by the beeping of the heart monitor, with Father lying motionless in bed before me and his warm hand in mine.
"No, no, no," I murmur in despair because I don't want his words to poison my thoughts.
Yes, Kjell is changing me into a different person. But he is not Levi. With Levi, I crashed; with Kjell, it feels like I'm finally flying again.
He is good for me, I know that for sure. And nothing Father could say or do will change that.