"All these years, I wanted to reach out to you so many times, but I was too ashamed." A tear escapes from the corner of her eye. "I don't deserve that you're such a wonderful person."
I quickly get up, circle the table, and pull my mother into my arms. "You were sick." Just like me when addiction made me do things I don't understand today. "And it was never your fault."
She sobs in my arms, her frail body shaking. "Your father and I argued a lot, always pretending it was about you, but it was really about us. Even during the divorce."
So I wasn't the reason after all. I bury my face in her neck, and for the first time since I came here, I feel like I can breathe freely. So this is what the truth feels like.
"Thank you," I whisper in a choked voice. "Thank you for telling me."
We hold each other until her sobbing subsides.
"I can imagine your sweet companion might be thirsty. What do you think, should we invite him in?" she whispers in my ear. Then she straightens up, wipes her nose, and smiles at me.
"Definitely." Without a doubt, especially since I owe this peaceful feeling inside me solely to him. Inspired, I walk to the door, open it—and collide with Kjell.
He stares at me wide-eyed.
Was he eavesdropping? Why else is he standing right in front of the door?
I size him up. "What are you doing here?"
He furrows his brow. "Waiting for you, of course."
No. If he had been waiting, he would have been sitting on the coatrack bench. It's much more comfortable there than in the doorway.
Suddenly, I remember the ransacked dresser in my parents' living room. Could he have been searching for a tissue back then, or was he snooping?
I suddenly hear Father's voice, reminding me in a harsh tone, how love makes me incredibly blind and stupid.
What if he's right?
What if my world is once again tinted so rosy that I can no longer recognize reality?
No. Those are his paranoid thoughts, not mine. Yet I can't seem to shake them off.
"Mm-hmm," I murmur, confused because I can't quite grasp what's happening here. Maybe nothing at all. Perhaps more than I want to imagine. "We should go."
I had originally intended to invite him into the kitchen but given his strange behavior, it's better that he doesn't meet Mother. And I probably shouldn't tell him about what we discussed.
He already knows so much about me. What if I've trusted him too much?
I quickly turn away. "Mom, sorry, we have to leave," I call into the kitchen.
In the next moment, Mother stands beside me. "But why?" Her disappointment is palpable, and my heart clenches.
"Appointments," I answer because it's the first thing that comes to mind. I slip into my jacket and kiss Mother on the cheek. "We'll talk, okay?"
She nods. "Is your number still the same?"
"Yes." One last time, I pull her into my arms. "Sorry, there's no other way," I whisper into her ear so Kjell can't hear. Maybe I'm just as paranoid as Father; I don't know. Right now, I can't think clearly.
Dumbfounded, Kjell also says goodbye to my mother and puts on his jacket.
We step out into the frosty winter world and trudge to our rental car. The crunch of the snow accompanies us, and I'm relieved that Kjell doesn't ask any questions.
However, as soon as I start the engine and steer the car onto the road, I notice from the corner of my eye that he's scrutinizing me.
