Chapter 27 Runaway Bride
Runaway Bride
Lars
Rose withdrew and I didn’t force the issue. We finished dinner, but she didn’t speak. Gone was her nonstop, sweet need to fill space. I didn’t press but panicked silently. Was she about to call it off? If so, I couldn’t blame her.
“I love you no matter what,” I reasserted. “It would nearly end me to lose you, Rose. You’re my everything, but because of that, I’d never want to see you unhappy—”
“Stop. Just… can we go home? We’re not going to see the northern lights, are we? And it doesn’t matter. Because… I just want to flee.”
“Not from here—not now. We’d have to go further north and try.”
I would drive hours to make her happy. She had no clue how much I needed a smile and a hug, but this wasn’t about me. It was asking her to do what she swore she didn’t want.
“No,” Rose looked at her soda. “You’re amazing for bringing me out here. I don’t… I just… can we go back to the place?”
“Yes, of course.”
We drove the forty minutes back to Stiftsg?rden, the family’s home in Trondheim.
Rose said nothing. She alternated between watching the sea to her right and resting her eyes, as if needing strength to survive.
This wasn’t what I predicted. It was supposed to be a triumphant return to her side.
This was the lead up to the best day of our lives, right?
At the house, Rose departed to our room. I watched her pace, worrying.
“Rose, would it help if I left?” I asked.
“I… I don’t know,” Rose said. “I feel like I need to leave.”
Her words wounded me.
“But even if I was a runaway bride, Lars, I’d get caught. That’s the bit of it. I’m… stuck.”
“You’re not.”
“Lars, my period is due in three days. It’s why I vetoed the date initially, but Mum overruled me, right?”
I’d forgotten it.
“And yet… here I sit with Schrodinger’s uterus. There is nothing I can do. We were both honeymoon babies, Lars. That was what the goal was, right—”
“The odds are what… twenty-five percent?”
“I’m not here to bet on anything. I don’t want odds! Lars… I need to get over it. I need to figure out everything. I don’t even know what I can do, though!”
“Well, let’s talk through that. There are still boundaries. My parents—”
“Lars, I cannot get there. Not right now,” Rose said, face too neutral.
Deep down, I knew she was wounded, but nothing registered. Please, cry, Rose! Tears were expected. I waited, but they didn’t roll. This was past that.
“I love you, Rose. I would do anything—”
She held up a hand. “I just… I need to get away. Or… to have some space. I think I’m going to go stay with Frankie tonight.”
“Rose—”
“If you tell me that I cannot say anything to my sister, I swear to God!”
“I never asked that, elskling,” I said, keeping my voice down. “I love you. I know you need to process. I’m not asking that we keep secrets about the very real, challenging position where you find yourself. And I trust your family.”
She nodded, defeated.
“Take the time,” I reiterated.
“Okay,” Rose said, tears welling. “I… I will be back… I hope.”
And with that, Rose disappeared out and down the hall. I prayed it wasn’t the last time I heard her voice. As I lay down that night—all alone—I wished I was anywhere but here. It was ridiculous, but I didn’t ask for this. And Rose? She never bet on this.