Chapter 26
Kjell
Sky continues to sway gently in my arms. The way she looks at me penetrates me to the core.
"That was Levi," she says, her hands gliding from my neck to my chest. Her eyes reflect the glow of the lights on theJulgran.
"I had a feeling," I reply cautiously. She hasn't told me much about him so far, only that her drug problem started with him.
A wistful smile forms on her lips. "I was incredibly in love with him. He was... I was... oh, I don't know."
I stroke her back with my thumb. "You were young?" I suggest.
She lifts her shoulders as we continue to sway to the beat of the music. "Stupid is more accurate. I trusted him when he put the first ecstasy in my mouth."
I'm not quite sure what to say, so I remain silent. I simply pull her a little closer, letting her know that I'm there for her.
"It only took a few days for him to offer me meth. A week later, I was hooked," she says, her voice heavy. I wonder if she's thinking about how it felt to be high.
I try to remember the evenings atPolarnattwhen she was there. I picture her dancing with confidence, with passion, as if she were the queen of the world.
"My blind infatuation is what led me to become addicted. And my addiction destroyed my future," she continues with a hoarse voice.
Her words weigh heavily on my soul. "What exactly happened back then?"
She exhales heavily. "I was eighteen, and like every summer, I was working atTouch av lyx. After I had worked so hard for it, my father was finally willing to entrust me with more responsibility. He gave me significant decisions to make, and I wanted to prove to him that I could handle it."
That sounds like a lot of pressure for an eighteen-year-old high school student.
I brush her hair away from her face with a fumbling gesture. "The drugs changed me. I could no longer fulfill my father's expectations. I failed in supplier negotiations, misinterpreted the quarterly numbers, and made idiotic investment proposals," she says, her sad gaze making it hard for me to breathe. "He was so disappointed in me. And rightfully so."
No, she shouldn't think that. She is such a wonderful person. Inevitably, I pull her closer and stroke her back. The sweet scent of her hair, like cookies, fills my nostrils.
"It was a vicious cycle. Every time I disappointed him, I needed more meth to get rid of that disgusting feeling of failure..."
"And with each additional dose, you could fulfill his expectations even less," I finish her sentence. That must have been hell—a downward spiral with no way out.
I lean down to her and kiss the top of her head, trying to give her something to hold on to.
"He was thinking about sellingTouch av lyxwhen he retired because I wouldn't be a suitable successor. And he was right. I was a wreck." Her fingers clutch my chest, and she breathes heavily.
Resistance builds within me. It sounds like Sky is placing all the blame for her addiction on herself. But her father seems to have played a part in it as well. Even though she clearly thinks that drugs came first and then problems, it's not that clear to me. Gustav Blohm challenged his daughter that summer—possibly pushing her beyond her limits.
"Despite the constant fog in my head, I knew I had to make amends," Sky continues.
"How?" I ask, my lips still close to her hair even though a part of me doesn't want to know. Knowing it must have been an absolute disaster is enough to make my stomach tighten.
She lifts her head, looking at me with her sad eyes. "I wanted to make Mother proud even though I had never managed to until then."
Oh God, I have a feeling where this is heading.
"Touch av lyxwas represented at New York Fashion Week for the very first time that year. I wanted to present the closing look—a spectacular silk and pearl wedding dress with a floor-length veil covering the face."
The Closing Look. I've read about that during my research. No other design within a collection is as crucial. It's the sensational climax of every show, the masterpiece.
"One of the side effects of meth is delusions, especially when you're coming down; they can be intense." Her voice is so fragile now that I can barely hear it.
"You collapsed on the runway?" I ask, trying to make it easier for her. She doesn't have to say it out loud; nodding is enough.
