This Christmas in Stockholm

by Betham, Michelle

  “I need to.”

  “And your husband, is he a part of this decision?”

  “It involves him, of course it does.”

  “You’ll be letting him know, when you’ve made your decision, then?”

  I narrow my eyes slightly and hug my knees even tighter against me. “I’ll be letting him know, yes.”

  “And what happens after that?”

  I shift my gaze; stare out at the view again, at the city below us. “I don’t know. It all depends on the decision I make, I suppose.”

  “Is there a chance you might try again? Try to make it work, you and your husband?”

  I shrug, keeping my gaze focused out front, my hands clasped around my knees. “I can’t answer that. Not yet.”

  “Deep down, do you want to try again?”

  “Whatever decision I come to – nothing’s clear cut, it isn’t just my decision to make, in reality. But this is something that needs to be done, so that we both – finally – know where we stand. So that we both know what’s happening, once and for all, and I’m sorry, Erik, if I’ve misled you in any way, I never meant to do that.”

  “You didn’t.”

  I think he’s just being polite now. Telling me what he thinks I need to hear, because he’s a kind man.

  “But, it seems to me that you and your husband, you need to do more talking, huh?”

  I look at him, our eyes locking. “Yes. We do.”

  “Nothing’s set in stone, then? Even after you make your decision?”

  “Not yet. The first step is me making that decision. I can’t even begin to move forward until I do that.”

  “So, do I… do I still have a chance?”

  I’m stopped from answering that as a sudden explosion of colour and noise fills the sky around us, I hadn’t realised there’d be fireworks tonight. I’d assumed those wouldn’t happen until New Year’s Eve, but I’m more than pleased that this amazing city appears to be having a practice run. And the view from up here – it’s incredible! We can see for miles, see every firework that’s being set off. Splashes of reds and blues; bright white and purple, yellows and greens, all the colours you could possibly think of are decorating the sky, cracking and fizzing, shooting upwards before dissipating slowly into nothing, to be replaced by another barrage of rockets and firecrackers. Cheers and gasps can be heard in equal measure from the people around us as the colourful display dazzles and shimmers; whirls around the sky, lighting up the night, and it’s difficult to know where to look, there’s so much going on.

  The air’s suddenly filled with a loud whistle, and I watch as something shoots high into the sky before bursting into what looks like hundreds of tiny multi-coloured stars that scatter for miles before slowly raining down, it’s beautiful to see. I don’t think I’m ever going to experience anything like this ever again, I can’t tear my eyes away from the spiralling shapes, the coils of colour, flashing and darting around the sky, whizzing and whirring, until the final climax. And as a succession of loud bangs and flashes sends what feels like hundreds of rockets high into the air, the sky explodes in a glowing, glittering blanket of every colour imaginable. It’s turning the night sky so bright, so beautiful, and the gasps of awe grow louder as the final rockets are sent flying upwards, showering their last remnants of bright white light amongst the stars, until there’s nothing left but a trail of smoke where there was once so much colour, then, silence. And it’s only when all the excitement has subsided that I realise he’s holding my hand.

  “Happy Birthday,” he whispers.

  I look down at my gloved hand nestled in his, and I smile.

  “So, Eva, have you made your decision?”

  I tug the blanket a little further up over my legs as I stare out at the view, the noise of parties kicking back up, music and chatter, it surrounds us, even in this beautiful, tranquil place.

  “It isn’t midnight yet.” I turn my head to look at him, smiling slightly. Midnight is still a couple of hours away, I’ve still got time to think about this. To make sure I’m doing the right thing, whatever it is I choose to do. But I think there’s a part of me that’s already made that choice. I think I made it the day I met this man. I’ve had the best time here, and this place – Erik – it’s all helped me come to this decision. And I think – I know it’s the right one.

  I look back down at his hand still holding mine; I close my eyes, and I let the memories of these few short days here flood my brain.

  “Spending time with you, Erik…” I open my eyes, and look right into his. “It feels like I’ve known you forever.”

  He smiles at me, and my heart starts beating hard and fast.

  “That’s because you have.”

  I have.

  Erik Bergstrom. The love of my life...

  Eleven

  “So, he just walked out?” Lina asks, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the counter.

  “Well, it wasn’t quite as clean cut as that but, yes. One minute we’re fighting, and the next day he was gone. He flew out here, to Sweden, and he changed his life. A life without me in it.”

  “And neither of you felt like you, you know, needed to try and work things out, before it got to that stage? I mean, all of this, his walking out like that – it all seems a little drastic.”

  “It was, in hindsight. But when you’re in the moment it doesn’t feel that way. Every action feels necessary, every word, every argument. And we shouldn’t have let it get this far, we should’ve fought harder but, in the beginning, I was too angry, at myself more than anything, because I knew I’d been selfish. I knew I hadn’t listened. I hadn’t realised how much he’d really wanted to do this. But he, in turn, knew he hadn’t listened to me. We’d stopped listening to each other. Started taking each other for granted, but I suppose that can happen, when you’ve been together as long as we have.”

  “How long have you been together?”

  “Almost ten years. Married for eight of those.”

  “How did you guys meet? Was it here, in Sweden?”

  I shake my head. “No. We met in England. In my hometown, Newcastle-upon-Tyne. He was over from Sweden for a friend’s birthday, we met in a bar. Nothing earth-shatteringly romantic, we just got talking. And by the end of the night…” I drop my gaze and smile as I remember that night. I remember, that night. I should never have forgotten it. “By the end of the night I knew I wanted to see him again.”

  Lina rests her chin in her hand and affects that dreamy expression she’s really rather good at. “What you guys have done… I mean, it’s just so romantic! Pretending to be strangers. Falling in love all over again…” She sighs, and I realise I’m still smiling. “So, I’m assuming you did see him again, then? After that first night?”

  “Yes, obviously, but not straightaway. I had to wait weeks before he came back over to England. He had a job, a life over here, in Sweden, he’d only been in Newcastle for the weekend. He’d had to go back home the next morning. But, we’d swapped numbers, promised to call each other, all the usual stuff. The moment I left him, though… the moment he walked away from me that night, I didn’t realistically think I’d ever hear from him again. It had been one night. A few hours. I assumed he’d wake up the next day and not even remember who I was.”

  “But he remembered.” Lina looks at me, an almost ethereal smile on her face.

  “He remembered.” I smile too. Actually, I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling for a while now. “He called me the next day, and then again the same evening, and every day after that until he could manage to get some time off to come and visit me in Newcastle.”

  “And then what?” Lina asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.

  “We spent a week together, and by the end of that week he’d already started to look for work in the UK. But he still had to go back to Sweden, for a while. He couldn’t just drop everything.”

  “How long before he was back?”

  “Six months. That’s when he came back to Ne
wcastle, and promised me he was never going anywhere again. He’d secured a post as a physiotherapist at a hospital in the city, moved in with me, it was all very quick. But it just felt right.” I drop my gaze again, trailing my fingertips absent-mindedly around the rim of my latte mug. “It felt right. And I don’t know how we got to this…” I throw my head back and sigh heavily. “Yes, I do know. And it was something we could’ve both avoided, but life…” I look at Lina. “Life gets in the way. You become too comfortable, too safe with each other, to the point where you can’t see the cracks appearing. I mean, we had a good life, good jobs, but I think that, in the end, became part of the problem. The different, sometimes very long hours we worked, the way our jobs caused us to spend so much time apart, we never really saw it as a problem, in the beginning… No. We never really saw it as a problem, at all. Until it was too late. And even then – even when we could see that something was wrong, we didn’t talk about it. We just carried on living almost separate lives, until Erik’s father died. That’s when everything changed. We were suddenly being forced to face up to a reality we’d been ignoring for too long – that we’d, somewhere down the line, started wanting different things. And Erik – he’d made the decision to change his life, to take it in a different direction; to listen to his father’s wishes, and act on them. But in doing that he couldn’t see that all these changes – they were for his own benefit, something that suited him, he didn’t know if it was something I wanted or not. Because we hadn’t talked about it, any of it. He’d wanted things to be different, and I was quite happy the way things were, at least, I thought I was. It turns out I was just terrified of change.”

  “So, when he walked out, how long was it before you – before either of you – knew that your relationship was worth fighting for?”

  “A few weeks. I think he’d been over here a little under two months when he called me. And hearing his voice again… I still loved him, Lina, even though I’d been determined to carry on without him. I was enjoying work, everyone was being so kind, rallying around me, keeping me company, taking me for nights out so I wasn’t spending too much time alone, but when I was alone, that’s when the moments of clarity would hit me. And even then, I’d end up having a couple of glasses of wine and convincing myself that it was for the best, that we’d separated. He didn’t want to come home, and I didn’t want to live over here. Not permanently. I wasn’t ready for such a huge change. So, in my head, I couldn’t have loved him enough, because if I’d really loved him, I’d have given up anything to be with him, wouldn’t I? I’d ask myself that question over and over again, and then I’d realise that it works both ways, he wasn’t willing to give anything up, either. We were both too stubborn, which meant we were permanently at stalemate. Until the day he called me. The day he told me he wanted to fight, for us. The day I realised I wanted to fight, too.”

  “So you, what? Decided to act out some kind of role-playing game, to try and save your marriage?”

  “Have we done a really weird thing?” I ask, wrinkling up my nose as I sip my coffee.

  “No. I’ve told you, I think it’s ridiculously romantic.”

  “When he first suggested it, I thought it was a crazy idea. Something only people in movies do, I couldn’t see how it could possibly work, but…” I trail off and look down into my coffee. “It’s made me realise so many things I should’ve – we should’ve realised a long time ago. I’d thought our marriage had lost that spark, that we’d grown apart, fallen out of love, and maybe elements of that were true. Our marriage had lost its spark, we had grown apart, but I don’t think we’d fallen out of love. I think we’d just forgotten how to love each other, that’s all, and doing this… I think we’ve remembered.”

  “So, why are you here, talking to me instead of spending time with him?”

  “I told him, before I came over here, that I’d make my decision just before midnight, on my birthday. I’d either agree to move over here, permanently, to be with him, or I’d stay in the UK. And our marriage would be over. And I’d thought I’d come to that decision last night, I really thought I was sure. But I couldn’t do it, Lina. I couldn’t make that decision last night because last night was strange and surreal and beautiful, but none of it felt real. He didn’t feel real. I needed to see him again, as the man he is now, not the man he’s been these past few days…”

  “But what if that is the man he is now?”

  I frown slightly, I hadn’t even thought of it like that. That he might’ve changed, might’ve become someone else, but the man I’ve spent time with these past few days – he was everything I’d needed. And he’s been mine all along.

  “Have you made your decision now?” Lina asks, wiping down the counter as she smiles at a customer leaving the café.

  “I have.”

  “And?” She raises an expectant eyebrow. “I mean, you’re supposed to be flying home today, so…”

  “I’ve made my decision. But I think I need to tell Erik first, don’t you?”

  ***

  The sky is a beautiful, almost cloudless blue as I walk the short distance to the restaurant. It’s a cold but crisp winter’s day, the sun is out and all around me people are smiling as they look forward to Christmas, which is just a few days away now. We’re fast approaching the end of another year, and a new one is just around the corner. The perfect time for making life-changing decisions? Maybe. I’ve just made mine.

  As I turn the corner, onto a now-familiar narrow cobbled street, I look over towards the restaurant. His restaurant. It’s still early, it isn’t even open yet, but he’s outside, placing the menu in its glass box, a cigarette in one hand, and I smile to myself as I walk over to him.

  He turns around and takes a drag on his cigarette, his eyes meeting mine, the corner of his mouth edging up into a small smile. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

  “It’s becoming a habit, isn’t it?”

  He turns to stub out his cigarette before throwing it into the ashtray by the door. “Not one I’m in a hurry to break.”

  I dig my hands into my pockets and glance around me, and I think I’m deliberately stalling now. “Can we talk, Erik?”

  “Of course we can. Come on, come inside.”

  “Can we go to your apartment? Please?”

  “Oh. Okay, sure. I’ll just go let Jed – my Maître D – know. I’ll be right back.”

  I wait outside, leaning back against the wall, staring out ahead of me as I watch life go on in this beautiful part of my husband’s home country. Looking up at the sky it’s still cloudless and clear, I never did see any real snow, bar a few flakes here and there, but nothing to shout about. I’ve been lucky with the weather during my brief visit here. I’ve been lucky, period…

  The sound of Erik’s voice from inside the restaurant pulls me from my thoughts and I turn my head as he comes back outside, wearing the same dark coat he’d had on last night; the same navy blue scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.

  “Everything all right?” he asks me, but I just throw him a small smile as we fall into step beside each other, our hands in our pockets as we walk. It isn’t far to his apartment, at least, it didn’t feel like it was far the last time we walked there, just a couple of nights ago. The night we had the kind of sex I don’t think we’ve ever experienced before. Just thinking about it makes me shiver.

  Closing the door of his apartment behind us, he slips off his coat and scarf and hangs them up in the hall. I do the same before I follow him into the living room.

  “So?” Erik asks, leaning back against the couch, his arms crossed, and I think that’s a slightly defensive stance. In case I give him an answer he doesn’t want to hear? I can’t blame him for that. “Have you finally made your decision?”

  “Can we talk first, please?”

  “What time’s your flight?”

  “Three-thirty.”

  “Home in time for dinner, huh?”

  “Erik, please.”

  He drags a h
and through his hair and sighs, shifting his gaze from mine for a couple of beats. “I never wanted to walk away from you, Eva.”

  “I know.”

  “We let things get too far.”

  We did. We shouldn’t have, but we did, and that’s why we had to do this.

  “These past few days, seeing you through new eyes…” He looks back at me, and I feel like I’m looking at him for the very first time, all over again. He’s that tall and beautiful Swedish man I first came across in a loud and crowded bar one Saturday night, laughing with his friends, his heavily accented voice causing me to sit up and take even more notice of him, he had my attention from that very second. “Seeing you as this beautiful person and not just as my wife…” He drops his head, and then his face breaks into a smile and I can’t help smiling, too. And then we’re laughing, and I know that what we did – it had seemed like a crazy idea, at first, but now…

  Pretend to be strangers.

  Pretend we never were those people who’d grown apart; lost each other.

  Pretend we’d never met before, and see what happens.

  I fell in love with him all over again. I saw what it was that we needed to do. I looked at him, for the first time in too long and I saw who he really was; what made him happy, because I couldn’t be the only thing in his life that made him smile. We all need something else.

  “I’m sorry, that I didn’t listen to you,” I whisper, moving a little closer to him. “I’m sorry, that I stopped seeing what was right in front of me.”

  “We’re both to blame, Eva. We both know where we went wrong, I think we’ve already covered that.”

  I smile as he slips an arm around my waist, gently pulling me against him.

  “But, you know, maybe we’ve fixed what was broken.”

  I close my eyes as he kisses me; the kind of kiss we used to share, when we’d been crazy in love.

  “You certainly gave great sex,” I murmur, smiling as his hand slides up under my sweater, his fingers fanning out against my skin.