16
trying not to have a heart attack
I stood outside the old stone building in the middle of Stockholm and counted the windows until I found mine. Or what used to be mine. My eyes drifted to the other side, to Niklas’s bedroom. The afternoon sun reflected in the glass, and I turned away. Not that he would be standing in the window, waiting for me. As far as he knew, I was still across the Atlantic.
I swallowed hard. I walked up to the front door and punched in the code. Thankfully, the one I used last summer still worked. The dark hallway of the building looked the same as I slowly walked through it, as did the old elevator next to the marble staircase. At least I knew how to work it now. I stuffed my suitcase into the tiny compartment, shut the door and clicked the gate closed.
My hand shook as I pushed the third-floor button. The ancient elevator jolted to life—on the first try. Hopefully a good omen.
But no. This had nothing to do with omens. I was taking my life into my own hands, following my heart. And there was a chance it was about to be crushed.
As the little lift creaked and groaned its way up, I contemplated a stop at Veronica’s first. I would need a nap and a shower before I’d be anywhere near presentable. Hopefully, Niklas wouldn’t care about presentable. Hopefully, he’d answer the door.
But from the moment I had bought my plane ticket to New Hampshire, I had decided I’d steer my own future. For better or for worse. And though the job went well, by the middle of the month, I had decided that choosing to part from Niklas fell into the “for worse” category. I just hoped this last spontaneous decision didn’t fall into the “for worse” category, too. I had left him once. He might not give me another chance.
The elevator came to a stop. I opened the door and dragged my suitcase out into the dark hallway. I walked a couple paces and stopped in front of his door. This was it. My heart had begun a steady trot in the elevator, and now it took off into full gallop.
I knocked and waited. Nothing. I knocked again. Still nothing.
I sat down on my suitcase and frowned. Maybe I should have at least left him a message before showing up at his door. Maybe he was out, or maybe he didn’t even live here any—
The lock clicked. The door opened a bit, and Niklas leaned against the doorframe, blocking the entrance.Niklas. My heart’s gallop turned into a canter.
“Hi,” I said softly.
“Hi.” His face was hard and expressionless. His hair stood up on ends, and the scruff along his jaw could almost be called a beard. He wore cutoff sweatpants and no shirt. I told myself not to stare at the tight muscles of his chest. I knew how they felt under my fingers, how they responded to my touch.
“Did I wake you?”
He shrugged but didn’t answer. I stood up and took a step closer, but he didn’t move.
“I—I missed you. A lot,” I tried.
He nodded a little but didn’t stir from the doorway. Did he not want me in his apartment? Messy hair, no shirt. A thought flitted through my mind, sinking all my plans.
“Do you have…?” I started. I frowned and began again, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice. “Is someone else in there with you?”
Niklas’s eyes widened.
“What? No,” he scowled. His expression softened. “No, Caroline.”
I took a shaky breath and stepped forward again. I stood close enough to touch him, but his hard expression told me not to try. I opened my mouth to speak, and the words came slowly.
“You have every reason to be mad at me, Niklas. I’m sorry I had to find my own way at the expense of your feelings. And I’m sorry I made you feel like I was anything else but madly in love with you. Because I am.” I gulped and pushed myself to continue. “I spent the entire month in New Hampshire missing you. I wanted to run all my ideas by you, like I did on our trip. I wanted to see your expression when you found something you loved in my photos. I was right about one thing—I don’tneedyou. But Iwantyou. I want you with me, Niklas.”
He looked me up and down slowly. His gaze fell on my suitcase. “How long are you planning to visit?”
I bit my lip. “I didn’t come to visit, Niklas,” I whispered. “I came to stay. If you’ll have me. Trial by fire, right?”
He didn’t say anything for a long time. His pulse throbbed at the base of his neck, but he gave nothing else away. “What about your career? The traveling for jobs?”
I folded my arms around me for support. This was where the conversation could take a dive. “I’m not giving up the travel entirely. But I want to figure it out with you. Together. In a way that doesn’t make you feel like I might not come back.”
Niklas didn’t respond. He seemed to be drinking me in. Was he getting one last glimpse of me before he shut the door forever? No, I wasn’t waiting around for that to happen. I took a deep breath.
“Niklas, I didn’t come because I worked everything out. I came because I’m miserable without you. And you’re not looking so great yourself.”
Niklas raised an eyebrow. I thought I saw a glint of amusement in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared.
