Love Like Theirs

by Sophie Love

  The silent cab ride took just over half an hour, and Keira used the opportunity to gaze out the windows at the passing architecture. Sweden seemed very modern, more of a metropolis than her last two stops. A lot of the buildings were modern—vast, gray estates, surrounded by parking lots—that wouldn’t have looked that out of place at home. There were no cobblestone sidewalks, no quaint tram lines, no cute vintage stores. Keira tried to reassure herself that her cab driver was taking her on the back routes to avoid traffic, but her foreboding feeling from earlier was starting to return. Of what she’d seen so far, Stockholm was the last of the three places she’d want to spend ten full days. She wished to be back in Finland.

  But her mind was thoroughly changed when the cab pulled onto a gorgeous stone bridge, careened across a river, and pulled up outside the stunning royal palace. The architecture was breathtaking. Baroque, Keira noted, built from a combination of stone columns and pale orange brickwork, sleek and efficiently designed. All the buildings surrounding it—the parliamentary buildings, the national museum, and Skeppsholmen Church—had the same style of design, the same brick and stone combination. It gave the area an incredibly harmonious vibe. A few select trees were dotted around the otherwise paved, pedestrianized area.

  Keira thanked her cab driver and hurried out, eager to see what the palace tour had in store for her.

  In the courtyard, there was a row of impeccably dressed soldiers guarding the palace. Keira passed them, heading in through the main doors and stopping in the grand foyer. The space was vast, and a site map showed that there were lots of different things to see within the palace, including Royal Apartments, the Banquet Hall, King Carl Gustaf’s Jubilee Room, the crown jewels in the Treasury, a collection of royal books in the Bernadotte Library, the Royal Armory, and several museums to explore. Keira couldn’t wait to get started.

  She turned on the spot, searching to see whether there was anyone who resembled a guide standing around, a white-haired Jossi type in a corduroy suit, or the tell-tale sign of a clump of tourists sporting long-lens cameras. But apart from Keira, the only person loitering in the reception area was a handsome young man who was far too young, she decided, to be a tour guide.

  She went up to the reception desk, speaking to the suited man behind it.

  “I’m supposed to be joining a tour,” she explained. Looking at her watch, she added, “I may be a little early.”

  The man nodded. “Early, yes. But the guide is already here.” He pointed, to Keira’s surprise, at the handsome young man.

  Keira raised her eyebrows. “He’s the guide?”

  The receptionist nodded. “MILO!” he called out to the young man.

  The man’s head turned, revealing to Keira piercing blue eyes. He had a warm face, with a large, inviting smile that revealed a set of straight, white teeth. Keira flushed with embarrassment as he came over to them.

  “Sorry,” she apologized immediately. “I didn’t expect for you to be called over. If you’re busy…”

  “Not busy,” Milo interrupted. He held his hand out for her to shake. “May I ask your name?”

  “Keira,” she replied, a little hesitant to make physical contact with someone so handsome.

  “Keira Swanson?” he asked. “Are you the writer?”

  “Yes,” Keira replied, blushing. She felt suddenly very tongue-tied in Milo’s presence, unsure of what to say. But his smile was so warm, his eyes so kind, and his demeanor so inviting, that she felt reassured. “I’m really excited to see the palace. How long have you been a guide here?”

  Her question was twofold; though she did genuinely want to know, she also wanted to find out how old he might be. He looked to be very young to Keira, and it always unsettled her to be attracted to men younger than her. Cristiano had been, and that had ended terribly.

  “Ever since I finished my master’s,” he explained. “So, gosh, I would guess now about eight years.”

  Keira did the math in her head quickly and concluded he was in his early thirties, and was alarmed when the first thought to cross her mind was perfect.

  She wondered, with a sudden jolt of cynicism, whether this had been planned by her magazine. Perhaps Milo was a plant, a temptation, to see whether she could stick to her assignment. Then she checked herself. She was getting paranoid!

  “What did you study?” Keira asked, intrigued. “For your master’s, I mean?”

  “History,” Milo told her. He gestured to the palace and smiled. “Hence the job here.”

  “Yes, it’s quite fitting, I suppose,” Keira said with a blush, feeling suddenly dumb.

  Tourists started filing into the palace, cameras in hand like weapons, and they crowded around Milo, jostling Keira out of the way. Keira noticed the adoring eyes of some of the women amongst the group, and she thought of Cristiano, of the way women swooned around him, and how uncomfortable it had made her feel to know she was just like them. It wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat anytime soon.

  Once everyone had assembled, the tour began. Milo was extremely well informed, but considering he’d been doing this job for so long that was to be expected. Still, he divulged his knowledge with enthusiasm. Keira wondered whether he had to feign it a little after all these years, but she suspected Milo really was that into the palace and its history.

  As they went, Keira took notes for her article later. She noticed that Milo kept looking over.

  “Am I distracting you?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” he replied. “I’m just curious about your work.”

  Keira felt herself blush again and couldn’t help but feel infuriated with herself. She was supposed to be on a voyage of self-discovery and independence, yet here she was getting weak at the knees at the first handsome man who’d shown a passing interest in her!

  “It’s not all that interesting,” she said, snapping her notebook shut and slinging it into her purse. “In comparison to a palace filled with history anyway.”

  Milo smiled. “Yes, I love that feeling, of being surrounded by history. Knowing that the ground you’re walking has been walked for hundreds of years by the nobility. I’m not one for ghosts or spirits, but there’s no denying there’s something in a place like this. It’s like the walls remember.”

  Keira nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I feel it too. I do every time I come to Europe, to be honest. Whenever I see all the old architecture, I can picture all the people through the ages who had seen it too. It’s humbling, really.”

  “You’ve been elsewhere in Europe?” Milo asked.

  “For my job,” Keira explained. “I was in Paris last month. Italy before that. Ireland. Germany. Denmark. Finland.” As she reeled off the locations she’d visited thanks to her job, she realized just what a charmed life she really lived. Though she had to keep in mind that it came with great sacrifices; relationships, apartments, her waistline!

  “Wow, you’ve been to loads of places,” Milo commented. “I’m not much of a traveler myself. I’m a… what’s the correct term in English… homebody?”

  Keira chuckled. “Yeah. That’s right. I am too, to be honest. I miss New York a lot when I’m not there. Before this job, I barely even left the city!”

  It felt so strange now to think about the person she used to be. It wasn’t that long ago that she was in her apartment with Zach, trying desperately to get a writing job. Now look how far she’d come, how much her life had changed.

  “See, to me,” Milo said, “New York sounds very exciting. I’d love to visit one day. Although I don’t know if I’d cope with the busy-ness.”

  “It’s not that different from here,” Keira told him. “Although way bigger. And there aren’t any palaces, I’m afraid.”

  Milo chuckled then, and it suddenly struck Keira that they were sharing a very easy conversation. Maybe it was just Scandinavian men, she thought, who put her at ease in their company. Or maybe there was something special about Milo, as there had been with Jossi. In fact, she realized then
that Milo reminded her of Jossi, of how she’d imagined he’d have been in his youth.

  “Have you ever climbed a mountain?” Keira asked Milo, struck by a sudden curiosity.

  Milo burst out laughing, clearly confused by her question. “Erm, no,” he admitted. “Should I have?”

  Keira laughed and shook her head. “No. Don’t worry. Weird question.”

  They continued walking through the palace, Milo taking brief moments to impart his knowledge to the tourists before returning, each time, to Keira’s side. And each time they engaged in warm conversation, making light jokes, revealing snippets of their lives and personalities. By the time the tour ended, Keira felt like she’d known Milo her whole life.

  “What else is there to see in Stockholm?” she asked as the tourists dispersed, eager to remain in his company for as long as possible. It didn’t matter that she’d already compiled a huge list of places she wanted to see in the city; any excuse to keep speaking to Milo.

  He checked his watch. “I’m on my lunch break now,” he said. “We could grab a coffee and I could recommend you some great places.”

  Keira was suddenly hesitant. Was Milo proposing a loose date? He was so attractive, so sweet and warm, that even a short coffee date would be dangerous. Her chances of falling for him were already too great, and she wanted to prove to herself—and her readers—that she didn’t need a man. But at the same time, she could get some great material for her article. Elliot had asked for exactly this scenario. Perhaps if she approached the coffee date through the lens of a writer on an assignment, she’d be able to keep her raging hormones at bay.

  “That would be great,” she told him. “Will you let me interview you?”

  “For your love article?” Milo replied. He looked a little shy for the first time, and shrugged. “I guess.”

  Keira pondered his response as they strolled out the palace doors and into the courtyard.

  Milo directed her through the space and down an alleyway, where a small truck was selling coffee. She frowned in confusion as he went up and ordered takeout coffee. She’d been expecting a sit-down chat, but Milo clearly had no intentions of getting off his feet anytime soon.

  “Where are we heading?” Keira asked, as he handed her a coffee.

  “I wanted to show you the City Hall,” he said. “It’s one of Sweden’s most famous buildings. Full of artwork. I got the impression you’re a fan of galleries.”

  Keira was surprised, and touched, that he’d picked up on that from just the hour-long tour of the palace. He’d been paying attention to her. The thought made her stomach flutter.

  Their route took them across one of the many bridges that spanned the river.

  “It’s so gorgeous here,” Keira commented.

  “Just wait until it snows,” Milo said. “It’s stunning then. And the sunsets are extraordinary.”

  “I’d love to see that,” Keira replied. “Luckily I’ve got ten days in Stockholm so I’ve got plenty of time to.”

  “Ten days?” Milo asked, his eyebrows rising. “Most people who come on the cruise only stay for three.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not heading back with the ship,” she explained. “I’m staying on in a hotel for an extra week and then flying home from Stockholm.”

  Keira tried to decipher Milo’s expression. He looked glad, excited even. She wondered why. Was he thinking about seeing her again?

  They made it to the City Hall and Keira was, as always, blown away by the architecture. It was a huge, red brick building, complete with columns and numerous windows. The whole ground floor was open air, a series of archways she could look straight through to the courtyard beyond. And the crowning glory was a huge brick observation tower stretching several floors into the air.

  “This is amazing,” Keira murmured absent-mindedly.

  “I thought you’d like it,” Milo commented. Then he added, “This is where they host the banquets for the Nobel peace prize.”

  “Cool,” Keira replied.

  “The tower,” he said, pointing to the viewing tower she’d noticed before, “is one hundred and six meters high. Three hundred and sixty-five steps up. Want to go?”

  Keira laughed. She was impressed by Milo’s knowledge. But she was also feeling a little weary after the long tour and all the walking. Milo, on the other hand, seemed to have boundless energy.

  “Actually, I wonder if we could sit somewhere?” Keira suggested. “My feet are a little sore and I don’t think I’d manage three hundred and sixty-five steps.”

  “Of course,” he said. Then from the corner of his mouth, he added, “I didn’t really want to go up. I was just showing off. Now, my favorite cafe is just around the corner.”

  They headed away from the City Hall and Milo showed Keira into a quaint teashop that would have fit in nicely in Finland. It was nice to know that there was some cuteness in the city.

  The woman behind the counter waved at Milo and spoke to him in Swedish. Clearly, he was a regular here. They took a seat in the window, which was always Keira’s preferred place to sit because then she was able to people-watch. They didn’t even need to order; two coffees were placed on the table before them by a server almost immediately.

  “Tack,” Milo said to the server.

  Keira thought she noticed the woman wink as she walked away. She looked at Milo.

  “Tack? Is that Swedish for thank you?”

  He nodded. Keira held back from blurting out that it was the cutest word she’d heard so far.

  “So,” Milo said, taking a sip of coffee. “What do you want to put in your love article?”

  Keira giggled. “Love article is a strange description. It really is just like a normal travel article, but approached from the perspective of a single woman trying to learn about different cultural approaches to love.”

  “And what have you learned so far? About Scandinavian men?” Milo asked. “Other than the fact we all have a little bit of Viking in our blood.”

  “I’ve learned you’re not afraid of housework,” she told him. “That women don’t expect you to make the first move or hold doors open for them. And that you’re unlikely to propose.”

  Milo nodded, looking impressed. “That’s quite an accurate portrayal. And I wonder how you feel about that? Your last trip was to Italy, didn’t you say? We must be quite different from Italian men. Isn’t it all about chivalry and macho displays of aggression over there?”

  He laughed, and held up his arm to mockingly show off his muscles, actually showing off his muscles in the process. Keira swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” she told him, as the memory of Cristiano’s fist colliding with Zach’s nose resurfaced in her mind’s eye.

  “It sounds like you’ve already done your research,” Milo commented. “What else can you learn from me?”

  Keira thought of Elliot’s request, for her to learn through experience. She sipped her coffee quickly, feeling embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. “Uh, nothing specific. I just like to interview people so the articles aren’t all about me, you know?”

  “Well, I don’t know what I’d be able to tell you, to be honest. I try not to dwell on the past. Each relationship is unique. It’s two people bringing their different experiences and hopes and dreams into one shared space, exploring what it means to be in that place together, the give and take, the push and pull, the compromise, and, ultimately, the parting. Too long analyzing that stuff must be bad for your health.”

  Keira let out a wry snort. How close Milo was to the truth. All she ever seemed to do was think back over the past, to wonder and mull things over, to leave no stone unturned in her quest for understanding.

  “See? Already you’re teaching me things,” she said.

  Milo gazed across the table at her, the skin beside his light blue eyes crinkling as he smiled. They held one another’s glance and Keira felt the energy passing between them. Like electricity. But not the type that shocked her and sent her run
ning. The type that felt charged, like a magnet pulling them together.

  “Keira,” Milo said, his tone sounding all business. “I’m going to ask you whether I’d be able to show you around the city some more tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Keira said, taken aback by how forthright he was.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised though. Venla had warned her that there was no messing around when it came to dating. No games. No wasted time. But her resistance was there. Milo seemed, well, kind of perfect, and Keira already knew from experience that there was no such thing. Perfect tended to last for a few weeks at the most before reality came crashing in. And she knew her chances of falling for him were so high as to be inevitable. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t do that this time, that she’d complete her assignment on her own, without a man.

  “Ah,” Milo said then. “I can see that I’ve misjudged the situation. I’m sorry.”

  “No,” Keira suddenly blurted. “You haven’t misjudged it at all. It’s me. I’m…” She sighed. “Going through some personal stuff. And then I’ve got work and…”

  Milo shook his head kindly. “It’s no problem. Here.” He handed her his business card. “There’s my number. Perhaps if you change your mind. Even if it’s just for another tour? Strictly business.”

  She took it from him, reading his full name: Milo Nilsson.

  “If I change my mind, I promise I’ll call,” she said.

  Milo gave her one quick nod, then stood. “It’s been a pleasure to spend time with you, Keira Swanson.”

  “And you, Milo Nilsson,” she replied.

  She watched him leave, wondering whether she’d made the right decision, or if she’d just let a potential lover slip through her fingers.

  She looked down at the slip of card in her hands. Just a tiny piece of paper that contained the power to potentially change her life. She placed it carefully into her purse.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Keira left the coffee shop, alone, and stood on the streets of Stockholm. Milo’s absence felt acute, and for someone whom she’d only met two hours earlier, that sensation seemed quite telling for Keira. Similarly to her meeting with Jossi, she felt like Milo had had some kind of profound effect on her, in spite of him only being in her life for a very short moment of time.