Chapter 33
Sky
With a pounding heart and my fingers tightly intertwined with Kjell's, I ascend the stairs to the blue-painted front door. The frosty northern wind tugs at the scarf I've pulled up to cover my nose, and it creeps under my jacket, carrying away the misty breath that escapes from our mouths with every exhale.
I come to a stop in front of the door. Despite having had three days to prepare for this moment, I feel anything but ready. I can still turn back.
As if Kjell can read my thoughts, he squeezes my hand. "You can do this."
"What if she doesn't want to see me?" What if she still hates me?
"That won't happen," Kjell replies even though he can't be sure.
I take a deep breath and gaze out at the winter world of Abisko. Here in northern Sweden, every blade of grass is blanketed in thick snow. Every tiny twig is encased in ice, and the sun hangs so low that the trees cast gracefully distorted long shadows on the plain.
"Come," Kjell whispers gently. "Or do you want to freeze here on the porch?"
Despite my tension, he manages to elicit a smile from me. "Whatever happens?" I ask, looking deep into his eyes.
"Whatever happens," he confirms, giving me the courage to press the doorbell. I’m not alone. He'll be there for me, holding me and comforting me.
A bright chime sounds from inside the log cabin, and I hear footsteps approaching the door. My heart races, and when the door finally opens, I can hardly breathe.
Mother now wears her blond hair as a bob. Her azure-blue eyes are partially hidden behind her bangs, but I can still see the disbelief in her gaze.
"Sky," she says with a trembling voice.
"Hej." I dare not move. Kjell squeezes my hand. "May we come in?"
Mother's gaze flits back and forth between Kjell and me, then she steps aside and invites us in. Her knee-length woolen vest clings to her slender frame, and she leads us into a cozy kitchen. The warmth from the fireplace envelops me.
Silently, I sink onto the faux fur-covered corner bench while Kjell remains in the doorway.
His gaze asks if he should leave us alone.
So far, it has gone better than feared, so I nod.
"I'll be waiting in the hallway," he says and leaves the room.
"Tea?" Mother asks as soon as the door closes behind Kjell.
"Sure." I attempt to smile, but I'm unsure if it comes out genuine.
She turns her back to me and reaches for the electric kettle. "Why did you come?"
Even though I knew she would eventually ask this question, I flinch. The coldness in her voice sends shivers down my spine.
"To find out the truth," I say, fidgeting with the seam of the tablecloth.
She fills the kettle. "What truth?" Am I imagining it, or does she sound different from before? Softer, perhaps? Or maybe more annoyed?
"About the divorce," I reply because it's the easier of the two topics I want to uncover the truth about. I hold my breath, and my whole body tenses. "Was I the reason for it?"
Please say no, please.
Even though I've tried to get used to this thought over the years, suspecting something and knowing it are two different things.
"Did you separate because I was such a messed-up child..." Should I say "was" or "am"? They may seem like small words, but the difference is immense.
