Chapter 23
Sky
I massage my neck and suppress the tired sigh building up within me. Then I look at Lil, with whom I've been in a video conference for an hour, pleadingly. "Come on, Lil."
Despite the Christmas stars glittering on the magnetic board behind her desk, her green eyes appear sad. "What am I supposed to do if the department heads won't release the budget plan?"
"How do we get them to cooperate?" I reach for a pen and slide my thumb under the clip.
I don't like Lil's headshake, nor her shrug. "Can you blame them?"
The clip snaps. "I had to leave."
"But the employees don't know that. All they see is you showing up in Milan to sabotage the show, and then you disappear without even trying to make things right," she replies, exasperated. "You've been gone for four weeks. Of course, they think you don't care. What's so hard to understand about that?"
Nothing.
I raise my gaze because Lil's irritated face is now causing me stomachaches. The sun shines behind the glass, barely a breeze moves the grass, and thin clouds drift across the sky.
Summoning all my courage, I say, "We're friends." My voice falters, and I think of Aurora, whom I've repeatedly reassured with empty phrases over the past few weeks. The knot in my stomach tightens even more.
"We used to be," Lil responds, her voice strained. "I won't go against my colleagues. It was hard enough for me after you left."
"I understand," I say even though I don't. I haven't been aware of anything that has happened here in the past few years. How could I presume to know what's going on inside her?
Lil's reaction rightfully consists of a frustrated snort. "Is that it for today?"
I force a smile. "Thank you for your time. If you could send me the contact information for the fashion chain that canceled the order for the upcoming collection, that would be great."
Because that's the next thing I need to take care of. My refusal to walk the runway in Milan has costTouch av lyxmore than anticipated. Not only did the press tear apart our label, but longtime customers have also pulled out. Probably not just because of the show but also due to my father's accident and Stig's death, which has now leaked. It's understandable that they fear instability because of these events.
We say our goodbyes—Lil in a cold manner and me putting on a deliberately friendly tone. I keep the headset on to call my father's doctor. Since I've been on Öland, we've been talking every day and have gotten to know each other better. June is the nicest person I've ever met. It's a shame that her time atKarolinska University Hospitalis coming to an end, and she'll be returning to her home in Canada soon.
"His condition remains unchanged," June tells me once again with a defeated tone.
"Okay," I reply simply because she has already explained what that means multiple times. It has been over four weeks since he fell into a coma, and with each passing day, his prognosis becomes bleaker.
She clears her throat. "I'm really sorry... I mean..."
"Yes, thank you," I quickly respond because I can sense that she struggles to cope with this situation herself.
"We must remain patient," she reminds me earnestly.
"I understand," I say softly, even though I don't—just like earlier with Lil—and bid her farewell.
I don't understand anything. Not why the accident had to happen in the first place. Not how I could be so foolish as to go ice-skating in Stockholm without caution, which has now tied me to my hideaway when I should be at the company headquarters. And certainly not how Kjell's presence keeps bringing a smile to my face amid all these distressing matters.
Two weeks ago, for example, when we nearly kissed at the lighthouse. Or yesterday when he persuaded me to stop working and instead light the candle on the Advent wreath with him.
How he looks at me every evening when he wishes me good night.
How we laugh at our worst jokes in front of the crackling fireplace. Barefoot, with soft background music playing, while a winter storm rages outside.
Nothing he does brings me down. I haven't made a single wrong decision because of him. On the contrary, he has even saved me from relapsing into drug use.
As incredible as it may sound—he seems to be good for me.
I bite my lower lip. Keeping the most important part of me hidden from him still feels wrong. He doesn't deserve that. But there's no way around it, no matter how much I wish it were different.
