This Christmas in Stockholm

by Betham, Michelle

“Things are only complicated because we make them that way.”

  I look at her, and I frown. Is she right?

  “I’m not sure. I mean, I go home tomorrow…”

  “Which is exactly why you should grab this last chance you have to be with him, to have some fun, Birthday Girl.”

  I can’t help laughing again, she’s making everything sound so simple. And maybe it is, maybe I am overthinking this.

  “So…? What are you going to do?” Lina asks, and I’m kind of wishing her expression wasn’t quite so expectant but, thankfully, I’m prevented from answering her question by my phone alerting me to a new text message. From him. From Erik.

  Birthday Dinner, on me?

  I glance back up at Lina, who raises her eyebrows, and I sigh as I show her the message.

  “Oh, you should go. You should definitely go.”

  “What about Felix’s party?”

  “Felix’s party will be like all of Felix’s parties – a bunch of his friends all sitting around swapping vegan recipes and talking art.”

  I frown. “Felix didn’t strike me as that kind of person.”

  “He isn’t, but his friends are. I mean, they’re okay, up to a point, but after an hour or so you really need an escape plan.”

  I smile. “You’re just saying that because you want me to go and see Erik.”

  “I want you to do what you want to do, Eva. Not what you think you should be doing.”

  I look back down at the text; I close my eyes and I remember what it felt like, to kiss him. To touch him, to be touched by him.

  “When I left him this morning, I really didn’t know what I wanted to do.”

  “Well, he obviously wants to… Hang on. When you left him this morning? You mean, you didn’t come back to the hotel last night?”

  I hadn’t meant to tell her, that I’d spent the night with him. I hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, but I’ve accidently let it slip now.

  “You kept that quiet.”

  “For a reason, Lina.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  I hesitate for just the briefest of seconds. And then I smile. “No, I don’t regret it.”

  She grins back. “Okay…”

  “That’s all you’re getting.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  I lay my phone down and lean forward, resting my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand as I look outside. “I’m still married, Lina. Me and my husband – we haven’t even begun to talk about divorce yet.” I look back at her. “Separating wasn’t entirely my choice. He kind of decided that for both of us.”

  Lina glances across the café, catches Felix’s eye, and he nods in our direction.

  “We’ll have one more coffee before we hit the streets again, okay?” She smiles, so do I. “I know you told me you were separated, and that you were here to get your head together, but I’m also getting that you came here because you wanted to… I don’t know. Escape, maybe? For a little while?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And I’m also getting, from what you’ve said just now, that he left you?”

  “It was like, I woke up one day and all of a sudden we’d started wanting different things.” I drop my gaze, start fiddling with the used napkin all scrunched up on my plate. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. None of it was sudden, I could see things changing, I could feel it, I just – I didn’t want to admit it was happening.” I look back up at Lina. “Ignoring a problem never really solves it, though, does it? It just makes everything worse. And we did try to talk, you know? Maybe we didn’t talk enough, maybe that was part of the problem, but we tried. I’m sure we did, but, neither of us was willing to compromise, and that’s what scared me. When you love someone, you should be willing to listen to them, to do anything it takes to keep them with you, and we – we didn’t do that. And I still don’t know why.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  This is the second time I’ve been asked that question, and the second time I’ve been forced into thinking about it.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t know. The more I think about it, the more I realise how far apart we’d grown. There were too many things – too many obstacles getting in the way, and I guess we just weren’t strong enough to overcome them all.”

  “Look, I know this really isn’t any of my business but, if you weren’t happy, then maybe you’re better off apart?”

  I can’t help smiling slightly. “You’re the first person to actually come out and say that. I’ve had all the you need to talk speeches, I don’t know how many times I’ve heard people tell me we didn’t try hard enough to make it work…” I trail off and look back outside. It’s started to snow again, light, white powder-like flakes are falling slowly from a dark grey sky, and I watch as people pull scarves tighter around themselves; jerk their jacket collars up as they walk.

  “Listen, Eva, I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been pushing you into seeing Erik…”

  “You haven’t.” I look at her, and I smile, because nobody’s pushed me into anything. “Meeting Erik, spending time with him – I think that did help, in a way. In fact, I think he might have given me the push I needed, in the end.”

  She frowns slightly as Felix places another two coffees in front of us, and I smile my thanks before turning my attention back to a confused Lina.

  “In the end…?” she asks.

  “He’s given me something to think about. Made me realise that I’m more ready than I thought I was, for a new start.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s good,” I laugh, because I’m tired of raking over the past now. What happened – well, it happened, and maybe it was for the best. Nobody should stay in an unhappy relationship, because that’s what ours had become. Unhappy. Tired. Broken. “Come on. Let’s go find a bar. I think we need to start celebrating my birthday properly, don’t you?”

  “A girl after my own heart… Oh, hang on a second. What are you gonna do about Erik?”

  I pick up my phone and quickly tap out a text, pressing send and sliding my phone back into my pocket.

  “There. It’s done. So, do you know any decent bars around here, then?”

  “Do I? I know them all, Birthday Girl.”

  Nine

  The snow never came to much, and I think I’m actually a little disappointed about that. Coming to somewhere like this, at this time of year, it’s nice to see those picture-postcard snowy scenes full of twinkling Christmas lights and backdrops that look like something out of a children’s fairytale. Maybe I’ll get all of that next time I come here. We’ll see. But then, I’d like to think I’ll be back a little sooner than next Christmas.

  Pulling my scarf tighter around my neck, and shoving my gloved hands deep into the pockets of my winter coat, I walk briskly along the narrow cobbled street, and the second I turn the corner that’s when I see him, leaning back against the wall, smoking a cigarette, his eyes down on the ground as he flicks ash onto the pavement.

  “Lina told me that a lot of Swedes are heavy smokers. Is that true?”

  He looks up, his face breaking into a slow smile. “Probably.”

  I lean back against the wall beside him, my hands still buried deep in my pockets. “I’ve had quite the Swedish history lesson today, come to think of it.”

  His eyes meet mine, and he’s still smiling that beautiful smile. “You’ve had a good day, then?”

  I take a second to let that hot-as-hell accent wash over me, again, and then I smile back. “I have, actually. Not the birthday I expected to have, in fact, it’s been a much better one. I think I’m falling in love with this place.”

  I turn my head to look out around me. The streets are busy, the restaurants and bars are heaving, the air is filled with chatter and Christmas music coming from somewhere in the distance. It’s an exciting, almost heady atmosphere.

  “I didn’t know if you’d come,” he says, and I turn back to look at him. “When you left
this morning…” He shrugs and takes one more drag on his cigarette before he stubs it out on the wall behind him. “I don’t know. I just got a feeling.”

  “I needed some time to think, that’s all.”

  His eyes meet mine, and we both smile. “You’re going home tomorrow, huh?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe…” He looks at me, and again I’m almost floored by how blue his eyes are. How startling they are as they stare into mine. “I thought I might have been able to persuade you to stay, at least for a little while longer.”

  I briefly drop my gaze, looking down at my black ankle boots.

  “Maybe I still have a chance, huh?”

  “There’s a lot to think about, Erik.”

  “Time to make a new start.”

  He doesn’t phrase that as a question, it’s almost an acknowledgment, that maybe that’s something he should be thinking about, too.

  “This is as good a time as any to think about new starts.”

  He smiles again, his bright blue eyes shining, even in the dim light. “I suppose so.” He glances over towards the restaurant, the fairy lights in the windows making it look even cosier inside than I know it already is. “Come on. Let’s go eat. I’ve got some special dishes lined up for you tonight.”

  I follow him inside, the warmth of the roaring fire in the corner hitting me the second I enter the place. It really is a beautiful little restaurant, with its quirky tables and chairs mixed with traditional Swedish décor. All tables are lit by candles flickering away as people enjoy their meals, the sound of many conversations and the clanking of cutlery filling the air as waiters weave their way around the room carrying plates of food and trays of drinks.

  “This is us,” he says as we stop at that same corner table we’d sat at last night. And as he pulls out my chair, it all suddenly becomes a little overwhelming. “Are you okay?” he asks as he sits down opposite me.

  “I’m sorry, yes. I’m fine. It’s just that – I wasn’t sure, for a second there, whether coming here had been the right thing to do. These past couple of days have been so lovely, they really have…”

  He frowns, but then his expression changes, and he smiles slightly. “But…?”

  I feel my shoulders sag, I just need to relax. I shouldn’t be so uptight, there’s no reason for me to feel so tense. I know what I’m doing. We both do. We both know what this is – what it was…

  “But, nothing. I’ve had a really lovely time. Thank you.”

  “It isn’t over yet.” He picks up the wine menu, scanning it quickly before he looks back at me. “Any preferences?”

  “No, I’m leaving that decision entirely up to you, again. I trust you.”

  He laughs quietly, and orders a bottle of champagne and some water, at least, that’s what I’m assuming he’s ordered. He’s speaking Swedish, but I think my basic knowledge of the language is good enough for me to at least get the gist of what he’d said there.

  “So, what’s it like to leave your thirties behind?”

  I raise an eyebrow and fix him with a mock-offended look. “Is that how this conversation’s going to go? Really?”

  He laughs again, and I’m beginning to realise how long it’s been since I’ve spent time with someone who laughs as much as he does; who makes me laugh, as much as he does.

  “Do you like your life?” I ask him, even though I’d never actually meant to ask that question out loud.

  He frowns for a second, and then that familiar smile returns as he sits back in his chair. “I like my life, yes. I love it here. I grew up in this country, it’s where a lot of my friends are. My family.”

  “Did you never want to try something else, somewhere else?”

  “I did, once.”

  I look him right in the eye, leaving a beat or two before I speak again. “And how did that work out?”

  He holds my gaze, his expression never wavering, not even a flicker. “It didn’t.”

  I want to ask him more, but I don’t. I leave it at that, for now.

  “What about you?”

  His question startles me, and I look back at him. “I’m sorry?”

  “Do you like your life?”

  “I used to. I’m just not sure how much of it was a lie, that’s all.”

  “A lie?” He’s frowning again, his eyes clouded by a flash of concern.

  “What I thought I knew – I was wrong.”

  “What you thought you knew about…?”

  “My husband.”

  “Was he really so bad?”

  “No, he… that isn’t what I meant, I just – I don’t know. Maybe it was me, you know? Who had the problem. Me who couldn’t deal with the changes that were happening, changes we were being forced to confront… I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear this.”

  “It’s fine. I’m a good listener, and talking – it can sometimes help make everything that little bit clearer.”

  “I know.”

  He leaves a couple of beats before he speaks again. “It sounds like you’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

  “It’s why I came here.”

  “To escape?”

  “For a little while.”

  “From what?”

  That question stops me in my tracks, and I briefly look down at my left hand, once more running my finger over the place where my wedding band used to sit.

  “From the truth,” I whisper quietly, and in that second I know I can’t be here, because I can’t make that decision I need to make, here. I need to be some place else, and I need to be alone. “I have to go.”

  I push back my chair, but he leans across the table and gently grabs hold of my wrist, his eyes almost pleading with me.

  “Don’t go, Eva. Please. I’m sorry, if anything I said made you uncomfortable, that was never my intention.”

  “I know, I just – I shouldn’t be here. I – I shouldn’t be here.”

  He reluctantly lets go of me, and I look at him one more time; stare deep into those blue, blue eyes, one more time, before I walk away.

  Tonight, I have to make a decision.

  Tonight, I have to make a choice…

  Ten

  I’d wanted somewhere beautiful, somewhere tranquil, somewhere that would help me think, and this place fits the bill perfectly. Skinnarviksberge is the highest natural point in Stockholm, giving anyone who comes here the chance to see the city laid out below them from an amazing vantage point. But it’s also the kind of place that attracts couples looking for a romantic spot, because of its almost remote feel. There are a lot of couples here tonight, huddled together beneath thick blankets as they eat picnics they’ve brought with them, but it doesn’t make me feel like I’m intruding on anything.

  I sit down on the bank and look out at the view, over towards Gamla Stan, all lit up below me. I rest my chin on my knees and listen to the sounds of a city in the throes of the Christmas build-up, and I reflect on my time here in Stockholm. There are just a few more hours to go before my last full day here in this wonderful country is over. A few more hours before that decision has to be made, before that self-imposed deadline arrives. Am I any nearer to making that choice? I’ve veered from feeling like I’m all but ready, to feeling like I might not be able to make it at all, but I think I’m ready now. I think I am.

  I can hear music coming from a group a little way back from me, on the other side of the bank. It sounds like they’re having a small, private party of their own, and as I glance to my left I catch sight of one of those couples I saw earlier sharing a kiss, and I’m guessing their romance is still in its early stages. Or is that just me being cynical, given the state of my own relationship?

  The pitch-dark sky is littered with hundreds and thousands of stars, it’s like I can just reach out and touch them, they feel so close. It’s a beautiful, cold but clear night, and I’m glad I’m up here, away from it all, with others who don’t much like crowds.

  “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

  I
look up, and there he is, wrapped up against the elements in a dark coat, a navy-blue scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, a blanket tucked under his arm.

  “Up here. It’s perfect.”

  I don’t say anything, because I don’t know what to say. I just know that there’s this tiny part of me that’s glad he’s found me. He always seems to find me, even when the signals I’m sending him are confusing at best. But tonight – tonight, I don’t think I really did want to be alone. So when he sits down beside me, I don’t stop him.

  “Here. This’ll keep you warmer.”

  He unfurls the blanket and throws it over my knees.

  “Thank you.”

  We sit in silence for a while, watching the city below, listening to the sounds around us, and I’m aware of his thigh gently nudging mine.

  “I’m sorry, for running out on you like that.”

  “I understand.”

  I turn my head slightly to look at him – those piercing blue eyes, that strong jawline covered by a neat, dark-blond beard, he really is an incredibly handsome man. Every inch the archetypal Swede, beautiful in every way. “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He smiles slightly, and that makes me smile too, and I regret leaving like I did tonight. I panicked, I couldn’t get my head around what it was I was doing; what I’d already done. I’d panicked, and I’d ran.

  “How did you know where I’d be?” I ask, hugging my knees closer to my chest, glad of the blanket he’s brought. It’s getting colder out here.

  “Let’s just say, I had a hunch.”

  “Okay…”

  We sit in silence for a few more minutes, music and laughter filling the air around us.

  “When I came here, to Stockholm, I promised myself that just before midnight, on my final full day here, I’d make a decision. A choice.” I look at him, I want to look at him, when I tell him this. “It’s probably the most important decision I’m ever going to make, because it could change everything.”

  “In what way?”

  “I want to have some kind of closure, I guess. Give myself a reason to move on.”

  “Do you want to move on?”