Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
And as much as my grandmother’s message of love—the knowledge that she wasn’t really gone—meant the world to me, it was hearing her talk about James that made everything feel real.
Because I know I was close to losing him.
But when he was in the hospital, I chose to lose him again.
Why? Because I’m fucking stubborn, that’s why. Because he hurt me, and I wanted him to hurt too. Because I’m scared to death that if we can somehow work past our complicated history, if we could learn to be open and vulnerable with each other, then maybe both of us would fall so deeply in love that there would be no way out. That we would make the choice to be with each other for the rest of our lives.
And, whew, that’s something I never thought about. How love isn’t just about the here and now but about the forever. That we might become to each other the things we’ve always lacked, and that once again, our lives would change.
But it would change for the better, part of me thinks. It would change for the better.
I sigh and slowly get up. I stayed up late last night with Lady Jane and Ella in Lady Jane’s room, having too much wine. It was nice to have a girls’ night and everything, but my body is paying for it this morning.
I take a shower, trying to remember the bits from my dream until all that’s left is just the feeling, a most wonderful calm feeling, one that I know won’t erase my grief but will give me some sort of comfort. I think about why my grandmother would tell me that about James (and if it were truly just a product of my mind, why is my mind telling me that?). And I wonder if I’m going to do anything about it. It’s so hard to change, and I’ve spent most of my life harboring grudges and pulling away from people, it’s going to be tempting to stay mad at James for eternity. I get dressed, ready to face another day.
Luckily the day goes by easily. The boys are quiet—Bjorn really is trying to be more in control, and at his age that’s something to be commended—and we spend the day going for a walk, building snowmen, watching a cartoon, then coloring.
We’re sitting in the playroom, about to break out the watercolor paints, when Ella comes in the room.
“Laila, can I speak with you for a moment?”
Oh shit. What did I do now?
I get to my feet, wondering if this is retroactive firing for sleeping with James, and walk over to her. “Yes?” I ask warily.
“Oh goodness, Laila,” she says with a laugh. “You should see your face. This is nothing bad. It’s good. I was thinking of taking you out for dinner tonight.”
Hmmm. This is a surprise. “Just me?”
“The boys and Magnus won’t be going.”
“Oh,” I say with a shrug. “Well, sure. Of course. That would be nice.”
“Good,” she says. “Lady Jane will watch the boys, if you want to go get ready now. I’m taking you to Oslo.”
Wow. That’s even better. “Is it fancy?”
She purses her lips in thought. “Kind of. Just wear something nice.”
I wave goodbye to the kids and then go off to my room, half expecting to see James on the way, but I don’t. In fact I haven’t seen him all day, which is for the best.
I go through my closet and select a simple black dress that shows off my curves but not in an obnoxious way. I’m tempted to put on my boots, but because I don’t know where we’re going, I opt for a pair of low heels. Not the best for winter, but I’ll walk carefully.
I pull my hair back into a messy bun on top of my head, pop in some amethyst earrings my grandmother once gave me for my birthday, some quick makeup, and then I’m ready.
To my surprise, Ella hasn’t changed at all, but I guess she’s a princess and can do whatever she likes. Not that she looks bad in her wool sweater and skinny jeans.
“Am I overdressed?” I ask her as I get in the car, surprised to see Einar at the wheel and not James.
“Not at all,” she says.
“Where is James?” I ask. He is her bodyguard after all.
“He’s busy,” she says. “Einar will be taking us.”
“Oh.”
We drive off and Ella makes small talk, but there’s something about her energy that’s confusing. It’s not that she’s nervous, but she’s excited about something. I mean, maybe it’s just that she’s going out for dinner without her kids or something, I don’t know. I know moms should be making as much time for themselves as possible.
But when we should start heading toward the city core, the car veers to the left of the harbor.