“I don’t know if my legs will support me,” she eventually whispered. Her thighs had started to shake considerably in the unusual position, but at the same time she wanted to be surrounded by his body, filled by him, close, skin to skin, chest to chest. Instead of putting her down, Tom carried her awkwardly over to the couch, where he gently lowered her onto it.
“Don’t go anywhere,” he said.
* * *
Tom studied his satisfied woman before he went to fetch a small towel, which he handed to her. Afterward he took the colorful new blanket he’d bought, the one that reminded him of her apartment in the Old Town, and draped it over her.
“Thanks,” she said softly, smiling up at him. He would pull the moon and the stars from the sky for that smile. Jesus, he’d come so close to losing her, the love of his life, his soul mate. But she was here, in his apartment. She was alive and had said she loved him, and there was no reason to think about what might have gone wrong. Twice now, he had saved her life. But in truth, she was the one who had saved him. Before he’d met Ambra, he wasn’t living.
“Want to eat?” he asked.
She stretched, supple as a cat. “Thought you’d never ask.”
He puttered around in the kitchen, casting glances over his shoulder and watching her as she half lay on his couch. As he got everything ready, she padded over to him with the blanket trailing behind her. Her hands found his waist, and he felt her cheek against his back.
“It smells incredible,” she said.
He dished up salad and bread, saw her lick her lips, enjoyed the simple, everyday miracle of having her here.
He would soon tell her that he had decided to join Mattias and his nation-saving team. Ambra defended democracy in her way, and he would do it in his. He would make this corner of the world a safer place, so that people like her could do what needed to be done. Give a voice to those who needed to be heard.
But first, they would eat, then he would tuck her into bed, watch over her, give her what she wanted: dessert, sleep, sex, a hot bath. Whatever she wanted or needed, he would give it to her. That was his main task.
And it would end like it was meant to.
Happily.
Epilogue
Roughly one year later
Ambra was back in Norrbotten. Even further north this time, in Abisko. It was a place polar researchers, hikers, and snow lovers from all over the world flocked to. And now her.
It was dark, with only the odd star lighting up the otherwise ink-black sky. If she squinted through the window, she could make out Lapporten, the mighty U-shaped valley in the distance. And high above her, perched on top of Nuolja Mountain, was the Aurora Sky Station, one of the best places on earth to experience the Northern Lights. At this time of year, with meter-deep snow and arctic temperatures, the only way to get up there was to use the chairlift.
Around the Abisko Mountain Lodge, the hotel where Ambra was staying, the staff had placed hundreds of lanterns made from clear ice. They glittered against the snow like small earthbound stars. The sight of them was so beautiful it almost hurt. Ambra turned from the window back to the room.
“Are you nervous?” Jill asked. She was standing by one of the room’s two full-length mirrors, pulling at her low neckline. The dress she was wearing was Swedish haute couture, made especially for her, and she was shimmering as if this were an Oscars gala.
Ambra studied her glamorous sister. “I’m more worried your dress will blind everyone. You couldn’t have chosen something a little more discreet?”
Jill waved her hand. “This is the discreet version. Don’t worry, today is your day, no one’s going to outshine you.” She adjusted her bust, which was pushed up above the dazzling fabric. “I hope,” she mumbled.
Ambra peered at herself in the other mirror. The dress she was wearing was actually made up of two separate parts. The white silk brocade skirt shimmered with a heavy, expensive glow. The bodice was snow-white jersey, a fabric that fit her like a second skin. The two parts met at the waist, with a wide duchesse band tied in a bow behind her back, and there was a pocket hidden at either side. It was at once modern and romantic. And it was definitely the most gorgeous thing she had ever worn.
“You aren’t regretting choosing a winter wedding?” Jill asked, taking out her phone, fluffing up her hair, and snapping a series of selfies.
“No, but I regret not banning you from Instagram.”
“Stop being so anti-progress. Tell me some gossip instead. Any drama, or has everyone been behaving?”
“Everything’s been fine,” Ambra said as she rocked her hips, making her skirt swing. The sixty wedding guests had been flown by helicopter from the airport in Kiruna. They’d been kept entertained with outdoor hot tubs, snowmobile rides, and skiing. Some of them had taken a helicopter ride to the top of Mount Kebnekaise; others had gone ice-fishing. Yesterday, they all ate dinner together in the Aurora Sky Station. When Ambra left the party at two a.m., the band was still playing. One of Tom’s sisters had been particularly enthusiastic about dealing out advice on raising children, a cousin had talked about nothing but the dangers of plastic containers, and Grace had gotten into a heated debate about the death penalty with one of Tom’s military friends. But other than that, the mood had been as relaxed and familiar as she could have hoped for. The fact that Jill hadn’t arrived until today had probably helped maintain the general feeling of peace, she thought disloyally as she listened to the faint murmur of the guests taking their seats in the adjacent room.
Everyone she cared about was here today. Elsa and her new girlfriend. And her son, the social worker. Simone and Siri, the girls Ambra had saved from the burning house, along with their mother. A few colleagues from Aftonbladet. And then her new family, of course. She still had trouble getting used to the fact that she was a part of it now: Tom’s mother, sisters, cousins, and various others who had married into the family.
Jill placed a hand on her hip and nonchalantly said, “I thought I might go out to see the guests. Alexander De la Grip, he really is sexy. I could see whether he needs anything.”
“Stay here, you man-eater. You’re my bridesmaid. Leave Alexander in peace.”
“He only has eyes for his wife and kids anyway. It would be sweet if it wasn’t so annoying.”
“And if you didn’t have a boyfriend. Mattias, remember him?” Ambra reminded her.
“Yeah, yeah.”
They heard a baby crying from the other side of the door, and Jill raised an eyebrow at the sound. The room was full of kids. Alexander and Isobel had come with Marius and their new baby. Natalia and David arrived with the soon-to-be two Molly. And several of the other guests had also brought children of various ages. It was how Ambra wanted it, a lively and inclusive wedding. It had felt like a good idea while she was planning it, but now it just woke a whole host of unwelcome emotions.
“What is it? Why are you sighing like that?” asked Jill, who had developed new, empathetic powers of observation this past year. Honestly, it was disturbing.
Ambra didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she met her own gaze in the mirror. The hairdresser had pinned up her curls on one side using a clip shaped like a snowflake. It was a gentle, flattering hairstyle, her dress was a dream, and even her makeup looked like it should. Purely objectively, she had never looked more beautiful. She leaned in close and studied her face. It was so strange that it didn’t show on the surface, everything she felt inside. Although that was true of everyone, really. Alexander and Isobel, sitting outside with their perfect family, for example, also had internal scars. Isobel had confessed that they were worried about the increasingly harsh tone of society. How Marius—sweet, kind Marius—was often subjected to racial abuse when they were out. And Natalia and David Hammar, a successful couple who seemed to have everything, had gone through a miscarriage only a few weeks earlier. It hit them so hard that they weren’t sure whether they would make it to the wedding right up to the last minute. And Jill, that goddess-like sta
r who was praised and admired by everyone, her soul bore such deep scars that she still couldn’t quite believe Mattias really loved her. Life wasn’t only what was visible. Life was complex and fragile.
Jill came over to her, suddenly serious. She placed her hands on Ambra’s upper arms. “Ambra, what is it? You’re so pale. Did something happen? I’m on your side, you know that, right? If you want to call the whole thing off and fly home, we’ll do it. Right away. You know I still don’t think he deserves you.”
“Nutcase. I don’t want to call it off,” Ambra replied, but her voice broke.
Jill’s grip tightened, and Ambra glimpsed panic in her sister’s eyes. Always this readiness for catastrophe. That was something they had in common, and it was something they would probably never quite get over. Both were too damaged, too aware of how quickly everything could change.
“So what is it? You’re scaring me. Are you dying?” Jill’s eyes looked as if they were about to well up. Her nails dug into the silk jersey of Ambra’s dress.
“I’m not dying,” Ambra hurried to reply. “I swear. Sorry for alarming you.”
Jill’s death grip loosened. She breathed out. “Jesus, you had me scared there. Tell me.”
Ambra turned around, face-to-face. “Tom wants to have kids.”
Jill was silent. “But you don’t?” she eventually asked.
Ambra looked down, could barely meet Jill’s eye. She almost whispered, “What if I can’t be a mother? If I don’t know what to do?”
She had never dared say it aloud before, but the thought had always been there, and it had grown stronger over the past few months. With her childhood, how could she possible give a baby everything it needed?
“Do you think I’m being stupid?” she asked.
“Very. Listen to me now: You’ll be a fantastic mother. You hear me? You’re passionate about those who are in need. Christ, you saved the life of those girls, and you have a man who worships the ground you walk on.”
Ambra nodded at the last part. “Tom would be a great father.”
“Yeah, he probably won’t mess up your kids too much,” Jill agreed before she continued. “So stop feeling sorry for yourself. The plan is for this to be the happiest evening of your life.”
Jill held out a tissue. Ambra took it and blew her nose just as someone knocked at the door. Tom came in.
“How’s it going?” he asked. Damn, he looked so handsome.
“Ambra changed her mind, she wants to call the whole thing off,” said Jill.
Tom didn’t miss a beat. “Mattias is flirting with one of the waitresses.”
Jill’s eyes flashed and she took a step toward the doorway. “I’ll kill him,” she said doggedly.
“Jill, he’s joking, you know that, right?” Ambra said with a stifled laugh.
Jill gave Tom a sharp look. “It’s hard to tell, considering he doesn’t have a sense of humor.”
“But I do have plenty of other qualities,” Tom said, unruffled.
“You do,” Ambra agreed, looking down at the bracelet on her wrist.
When Tom had carried her out of the burning building, he’d also rescued her box. “You were holding it in an iron grip, so I thought it must be important,” he said with a shrug. Inside, she found the beloved charm bracelet her father had given her mother when Ambra was born. She shook her hand and the charms rattled.
A mournful sound caught Ambra’s attention. Suddenly Freja appeared at Tom’s side and howled pitifully.
“She doesn’t like the flowers,” Tom explained. The dog was wearing a green-and-white flower garland around her neck, the same colors as Ambra’s bouquet and Tom’s corsage. She looked deeply unhappy and gave Ambra a pleading dog look. Take it off me, her eyes seemed to be saying. Ambra scratched the dog under the chin. “Soon,” she whispered.
“Unless you’ve changed your mind, it’s time,” Tom said, taking a step toward her. His tone was breezy, but she saw a quick flash of worry pass over his freshly shaven face. His dark eyes bored into hers, and she almost struggled to breathe. This was what it was all about. Not dresses and candles and floral wreaths. This. A life-and-death kind of love. Fidelity. Loyalty. For this man who dared run into a burning house for her sake, who had saved her life twice. Who would give his life for her, who would never let her down.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” she said.
Tom took a step toward her, placed a hand on the back of her neck, and kissed her, eagerly, dominantly, as though to reassure himself that she was serious. Ambra reciprocated his kiss, pressed herself to his chest, his new suit, pulled him to her until she was dizzy and warm and breathless.
Jill groaned.
Freja joined in with a howl.
Tom smiled. “So what do you say? Should we go out and get married?”
She nodded and held out her hand to him.
* * *
In front of their family, friends, and the civil officiator, Tom carefully pushed the diamond ring onto Ambra’s slender finger. The rock glittered, and he felt his throat tighten. Then he held out his own hand and watched as Ambra pushed the smooth ring onto his finger. Their eyes met, and though the room was full of people, all they could see was each other.
“You have now entered into marriage with one another, and confirmed this before the witnesses gathered here today,” the officiator said ceremonially.
Tom breathed out. It was official. Ambra was his. And he was hers. Finally. He gave her a kiss, brushed his mouth against those soft lips of hers, felt her smile. The guests laughed, applauded, and wolf whistled. Music started to play, and Jill Lopez began singing her latest song for them. It was a powerful ballad, a song about the love between two sisters, a smash hit Jill had written after they made up and that had been at the top of the charts all fall.
Tom squeezed Ambra’s hand.
“Lucky she isn’t stealing the spotlight,” Ambra whispered.
“She loves you,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“And I love you,” he said.
She squeezed his hand and leaned her head gently against his shoulder. His wife.
* * *
Long after the dinner, the speeches, the cake, and the wedding dance, Tom and Ambra stood in the middle of the dance floor. All around them, the party was in full swing, but they were standing still, close together, kissing gently, whispering, breathing each other in.
“Want to dance again?” Tom asked quietly.
Ambra shook her head. Her soft hair tickled his nose. He was determined that her wedding day should be exactly how she wanted it. But he was also longing to be alone with her. “Do you want to talk to anyone else? Jill? Elsa?” he asked.
“I really don’t. I’ve talked so much my throat hurts.”
That decided it. “Let’s sneak out.”
“Where are we going?” she asked as they stole away. Her dress rustled slightly.
“Put this on,” he said as they reached the lobby. He draped a thick winter coat over her, wrapped a scarf around her neck, and handed her a hat, which she carefully pulled down over her curls. “We’re going out? I’m wearing heels,” she protested. But her eyes glistened with curiosity. That was his wife. Always curious. She changed into the warm boots he handed her.
“Come on.”
The cold air hit them as Tom opened the door. The dogs began to howl the minute they stepped outside. “A dogsled!” she exclaimed. A team of jumping, barking, gray-and-white dogs was awaiting them. He helped her into the sled, beneath the furs. “So pretty,” she mumbled. And it really was. The stars in the sky and the ice lanterns lining their way, until the sled driver called for the dogs to stop. Ambra shivered and looked up, toward the mountain. “Are we really going up there?”
He nodded. “It’ll be cold,” he said apologetically. She climbed into the chairlift, and he covered her with a fur, sat down next to her, and took her hand. The chair lift silently began its climb. They left the bright lights of the hotel and the glittering lanter
ns behind them, floated higher and higher until they reached the top of the mountain. The cold was piercing, and they ran the short distance to the station hand in hand.
“Are we the only ones here?” she asked as they stepped inside.
“Yeah.” He had reserved the entire mountaintop station for her, for them. He hung up their coats while she glanced around. It was a simple room; the view was the main attraction. She looked at the furs on the floor by the window, the lanterns and the rose petals sprinkled all around. She looked at him. “Rose petals?”
“Is it too much?” he asked.
“A little,” she said, but she smiled and her eyes twinkled.
She moved over to one of the windows and paused with her nose to the glass.
“It’s like looking down at the whole world,” she said. Her voice was low, almost reverential. Millions of stars lit up the sky; they were surrounded by mountains, with the heavens above them, in all their endlessness. He moved behind her, kissed the back of her neck, and felt her tremble. He placed a hand on her back, playing with the line of small buttons on her spine, bent down and kissed her shoulder blade. He undid a button and kissed her again, repeated the procedure until every button was undone and she was breathing with quick, shallow pants. He found the fastening on her skirt and unhooked it. It practically rolled off her, and suddenly it was pooled around her feet like a sea of silk. She wasn’t wearing an underskirt. Only underwear. Tom studied her for a long moment.
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