Chapter 40
Kjell
The black line on the white background blinks. I've been watching it for four weeks now.
Beyond the window, night blankets the world in the same darkness that has surrounded me all day. Writing this article about Sky should be damn easy, yet today, like every other day, I can't put a single word on paper.
Someone knocks on my office door. Jakob sticks his head in. "Hej."
"You'll get the story"—I sigh wearily—"today."
His skeptical gaze meets mine. "You don't have to do this," he reminds me, as he has so many times before.
"I know." I also know that the deadline for the issue that will be out the week after next is tomorrow, and we don't have any other story that can save us. I know that Sky broke my heart without batting an eye, and I know that her feelings for me were never genuine. "You'll get the article today."
My best friend leans against the doorframe with a sympathetic look. "This isn't easy for you."
"Nonsense. I want to write it." Shaking my head, I organize the papers scattered across my desk. "Between Sky and me, it's over." It was never real. The woman I fell in love with doesn't even exist.
Jakob takes a pen from the breast pocket of his shirt and fidgets with it between his fingers. "Are you sure? If not, I'll have to find another story for the next issue."
"Absolutely." I sound resolute, and that's the way it should be. "You'll get the article today," I repeat firmly, and this time Jakob seems to relent, albeit with doubts.
His expression softens. "Thank you, Kjell. You know how much this means to me."
At least one of us will be happy, and that's something. "Go home and have a nice evening with Merle," I say.
"And you can really handle this?" he asks cautiously, which is unnecessary.
I don't need his sympathy. I'm fine, so I force a casual smile and make a dismissive gesture, indicating that he doesn't need to worry. "Just go already."
"Okay." He pushes away from the doorframe. "See you tomorrow. Let me know if there are any issues."
There won't be. I'll just write this damn article. Period. "Sure," I say anyway, so he can leave for the evening feeling reassured.
We bid each other goodbye, and then I'm alone again with the blinking line on the white background.
There's no reason not to start, but a very good reason I should.
Since Sky showed me her true colors, she hasn't left my thoughts for a single second. That has to stop, and it will as soon as I put an end to our shared story with this article.
The article will be that final punctuation mark.
My gaze falls on the stack of papers I've neatly collected earlier. On top of the pile is the photo from our visit to the lighthouse on ?land. Sky's hair blows into the frame, and I trace the wavy lines with my index finger. Back then, on that lighthouse, we almost kissed. I remember how much I wanted it, how desperately I wanted to believe that the Sky with the open smile, the empathetic nature, and the sad backstory was the real Sky.
Other memories suddenly weigh heavily on my shoulders.
There's her tear-streaked face as she crouched in the hospital corridor. The mischievous grin with which she initially answered my questions with more questions. And the moment when both of us forgot that little game.
Our dance on the rooftop. Watching the first snow of the year, which didn't make me as melancholic this winter, solely because of her. Our time on ?land filled with laughter, tenderness, and the feeling that we could see into each other's souls. And the moment we kissed for the first time.
Did I really not realize all this time that she was playing me? Did she really only care about herself? I was good enough to protect her from her ex and to dance with her to help her control her addiction. I comforted her when she was sad, and I even risked my friendship with Jakob for her.
In return, she didn't give me even the tiniest chance to explain how I got into this mess.
As much as it hurts me, it's true. She always wanted one thing: Touch av lyx . The power and money that came with it. As long as the world revolved solely around her.
How could I have ever believed that she would deny herself? How could I have been so convinced that she was chasing the wrong dreams?
She wasn't. Her stupid dreams are a perfect fit for her. I should have realized that much earlier.
"Enough now." My palm slams on the desk. "It doesn't matter," I admonish myself, pushing the documents away so they can no longer distract me.
With pursed lips, I turn to the screen and place my fingers on the keyboard.
The Many Faces of Skady Blohm , I type as the headline.
It's not perfect, but it will do for the first draft. This article needs to finally be written. Because if I don't do it, I'll never be able to forget Sky.
And that's all I want.
The racing heart, the taste of her lips, the sound of her smile. The tingling sensation just before we touch, the warmth of her presence, and the scent of her skin.
I want to forget all of it before it consumes me.
So I take a deep breath. As I exhale slowly, I gather all my pain and start typing.