Chapter 22
Kjell
Two weeks have passed since Sky and I arrived on Öland. Fourteen days during which I've felt like an impostor. Every time I pretend to set out on a photography tour, I end up sitting in a café with my laptop, typing one gossip article after another about random celebrities forRyktesspegeln. Every time she reveals another detail from her life to me.
Whenever we laugh together. And she looks at me with that openness, as if she trusts me unconditionally.
With each passing day, she has become more relaxed, and her aloofness has become a rarity. Today is no different.
"TheLånge Erikis super cool," she exclaims, pointing ahead.
Her glowing cheeks stand out against the wintry island backdrop as we walk along the beach.
I tear my gaze away from her, which has begun to stir feelings of guilt within me more and more often.
Whatever this feeling is, my head knows it's not real. But when she's near, my heart seems to care little about that fact.
Sky remains unaware of my inner turmoil as she cheerfully reminisces, "Lil and I used to pretend we were shooting catalog pictures for our self-made collections there every summer."
Determined not to let my emotional turmoil get the better of me, I focus on the lighthouse a few hundred yards ahead, reaching into the sky.
Its white stone facade hardly stands out against the landscape, but the dark blue ring halfway up and the revolving light in the red dome make it impossible to miss.
"We would sometimes raid Mom's closet and mix and match everything wildly," Sky continues, clearly lost in her memories, this time with a smile on her face.
"Fashion is your life," I say, fearing I might be smiling. But seeing that dreamy expression on her face somehow makes me happy.
"It's the fabrics. How they feel, how they flow, how they smell. How you can combine them to create something unique," she explains.
"That sounds amazing," I reply, and together we circle the lighthouse to find the entrance. I gallantly hold the door open for her.
"It truly is," she says with an upbeat grin. "Moreover, I believe fashion can change people."
I hadn't looked at it that way before, but there's something to it. "Because it feels different," I add as we step through the door. In the room, I notice carefully arranged items from the lighthouse's past against the stone wall. An oversized lamp, a simple control unit, metal bottles. "Do you design your own clothes too?"
Sky vehemently shakes her head. "You need a lot of talent for that." A hint of nostalgia briefly crosses her face but quickly fades. "So once again, imagine a woman who thinks she's ugly. When she sees herself in a beautiful dress in the mirror, it does something to her." Sky continues with enthusiasm as we climb the steep spiral staircase, sharing more about her deep passion."As a fashion designer, you can bring a smile to people's faces," she says as we reach the top of the lighthouse.
I step out onto the platform with her. A cold wind creeps down my neck. The smell of seaweed and the roaring of the wild Baltic Sea out here at the tip of the peninsula engulf me.
So this is what matters to her. Not money or fame. She wants to make people happy.
"You're amazing," I find myself murmuring gently from the depths of my heart, as I have so many times in the past few weeks.
"What did you say?" Sky looks at me questioningly.
I should answerthat you're amazing, but instead, I reply, "This is amazing," feeling like a fool once more.
This woman shuts off my brain. A smile is enough. A few words. A touch. It's crazy.
I turn away and gaze out at the sea, which is just as turbulent as I am.
She gently nudges me. "Don't you want to take some photos?"
"Photos?" I ask absentmindedly.
The wind pushes Sky's hair into her face, but I can still see the creases on her forehead. "For your photo book."
Right. My photo book that doesn't actually exist.
