He caught sight of Marius, standing with his tiny hand in Ebba’s. Alexander’s mother patted Marius’s hand as she smiled warmly at Peter and then gave Gina a quick hug that at least looked heartfelt.
The time of miracles was clearly here to stay.
Alexander went over to the little group. He exchanged a glance with Peter and then put a protective arm around Marius’s shoulders. The boy was still much too thin, but according to the pediatrician, he was on his way to catching up. He would start school in the fall, and he could already speak some Swedish.
“Thanks, Mom,” Alexander said quietly. “Thanks for everything.”
“You don’t have anything to thank me for. I know you don’t believe it, but I really do want to help.”
Ebba looked over to Gina and Peter, who stood admiring Molly. “It’s all so new, but I’m doing the best I can,” she continued. “You’re my children—all I want is for you to be happy.”
“Even if it means marrying the enemy, adopting African children, and getting together with the help?”
“There’s no need to be vulgar, Alexander. But yes. Even if you dismantle everything I thought I stood for.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Even if Natalia meets her biological father.”
“You knew that?” he asked, astounded.
“I just want you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.”
“It hasn’t always been obvious.”
“No, I know. I hope you can forgive me sometime.”
It was the first time she had even come close to admitting she had done anything wrong. Maybe Natalia was right after all: Their mother had changed.
“I probably wasn’t a very good mother. My goal is to be a better grandmother.”
He put a hand on her arm and squeezed it gently. “Thanks, Mom. That means a lot.”
Ebba’s eyes shone, and she turned away.
Alexander met Natalia’s eyes over his mother’s head. She looked moved. Good Lord, this was already turning into a sobfest.
* * *
Isobel washed her hands and studied her face in the bathroom mirror. No trace of any bruises. She looked normal. And she had finally started to feel like normal too.
The first few weeks had been terrible. Physically, she had no visible wounds—in contrast to Alexander, who was more than happy to show off his pair of impressive scars. And mentally she was recovering, even if it had been really tough for a while. They had hit her, but nothing else. Threatened, abused, and frightened her, but they hadn’t raped her, and she was glad she had survived. And she was feeling better. It was just as everyone said: If you were surrounded by people you loved, you could survive most things. Yes, things had definitely turned around.
She closed the door behind her and smiled at the murmur of the guests.
She and Alexander hadn’t left each other’s side these past few weeks, but today was their official moving-in day. On the way to the main room, she passed Marius’s bedroom, which looked like it could belong to any other seven-year-old: full of colorful fabrics, LEGO bricks, and children’s bookcases. She walked past her and Alexander’s room, smiled at the secrets the seemingly normal bedroom hid, and pulled the door shut slightly; it felt too private to have it open, even if nothing was visible.
They had taken it easy the past few weeks, reveling in their newfound closeness, but they had agreed on a mix of vanilla and kink in the future. She was still slightly surprised by how uncomplicated Alexander was when it came to all that. Also she was deeply thankful that Marius was a child who slept soundly. And that they had plenty of people nearby to babysit. Natalia, Peter, and both their mothers had offered.
She snuck into the kitchen.
“How’s it going?” she asked Romeo, who was busy checking on his staff and the preparations.
“Ciao, bella,” he greeted her, slapping at his boyfriend’s hand just as he was about to reach for a croustade.
Isobel leaned against one of the kitchen counters and took a couple of deep breaths.
“You alright?”
“I just need to gather my thoughts for a second before I go out.”
“Nervous?”
“A little.” She still had trouble with lots of people, panicked easily, felt trapped.
Leila came out. She studied the handsome Romeo with great interest before she turned to Isobel.
“There you are. Can we smoke in here?”
Romeo blurted a loud string of Italian profanities, and Leila rolled her eyes.
“Okay, okay, okay.” She sighed and put the cigarettes back.
“Is everyone here?”
“Alexander is serving drinks and some kind of snack he claims he made himself. People are talking. It’s fine. Everyone seems nice. For now.”
“Let’s see how long it is before the mothers clash,” Isobel said.
“Yes, it’s fascinating, the way they manage to hiss insults between compliments. They’re incredibly similar, of course, though they don’t realize it. And Eugene, that sweetheart, he’s taken it on himself to mediate between them. Though he looks pretty drunk already, so there’ll probably be blood spilled fairly soon. How are things with you and Blanche?”
Isobel pulled a face. She grabbed a piece of gherkin when Romeo looked away. “If this were a film, I would’ve told her to take a hike, but you can’t do that in real life.”
“No,” Leila agreed. “Most people just tolerate their parents, no matter how awful they are. That’s what being an adult is all about. But you don’t have to do anything.”
“No, I suppose not.” Isobel pulled at her earring. Her mother had given Isobel her grandmother’s diamonds and a little painting as moving-in gifts. That was the closest Blanche would ever come to an apology, but it was enough. “Did you speak to Idris?”
“He’s doing better, working flat out. He says hello, and hopes you and Marius have time to Skype soon.”
Things had ended so well, she could hardly believe it. Idris had gotten better and an MSF doctor had arrived at the hospital only a few days after her kidnapping.
“I’m so relieved.” Isobel chewed the gherkin. She paused. “Leila, I have to tell you something. Alexander already knows. I’ve accepted a job at Karolinska Institutet. A research post, in crisis medicine. I’ve decided to stop working for Medpax. To stop working in the field altogether, actually.”
Leila didn’t look the least bit surprised. “You’ll do more for the world that way, if I know you. I was waiting for this. Sven has offered to go to Chad.”
“Really? What about his wife?”
Leila smiled. “She left him for a TV gladiator.”
“How sad for him.”
“Mmm. Very.”
Isobel bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. “I still feel a bit like a quitter.”
“But you always do.”
“Can’t you even fake empathy? I was a hostage for nine days.”
“You aren’t a quitter. Our feelings aren’t always the truth. Should I embroider that for you as a wedding gift?”
“Am I getting married?”
“You aren’t going to get engaged?”
“Not as far as I know.” Though she had her suspicions that Alexander had something planned for this evening.
He joined them in the kitchen, and once more it was as though the sun had suddenly decided to shine in through the windows. He had cut his hair short. Stopped wearing his ridiculously expensive suits. He had actually matured. Strangely enough, she loved him more with each day; she wouldn’t have thought it was possible to feel so much love for another person. She fought back stupid tears, didn’t want to ruin her surprisingly perfect makeup. If Alexander planned to propose, she wanted to look good.
“Could you give us a moment, Leila?” he asked.
“Rather not,” she muttered, but she left.
Alexander pulled Isobel into his arms. “Marius is talking to my mom.”
“How’s it going?”
“Would you believe me if I sai
d well?”
“She’s been so nice to me.”
“No one is more shocked than me. Did you tell Leila your plans?”
“Yeah, she took it really well.”
“So. Now it’s too late to back out. Now we live together.”
“I don’t want to back out.”
“I’m so afraid I don’t deserve you.”
“Pah, no you aren’t.”
Alexander took her hand and they went back to join the others. He gave her a glass, kept an eye on her, didn’t leave her side.
Of course Alex deserved her, Isobel thought as she listened to him ask Gina about her studies. More than he could imagine. This man, who served vegetarian food for her sake, who invited his family and friends to prove he was serious about their relationship. Who fought desert rebels and brought Marius home without a moment’s hesitation.
They sat down and she looked around. People were talking and laughing. Even her mother looked happy, sitting between Eugene and Peter.
Alexander stood up and clinked his glass.
“I want to thank you all for coming today, to celebrate with Isobel, Marius, and me.”
He fell silent and his eyes glistened before he continued.
“Isobel. You’re a fantastic doctor. A spokeswoman for those lacking a voice. An inspiration and an example. You’re beautiful, funny, and smart, and the most incredible person I ever met. I’m so happy you and Marius want to live with me.”
He fell silent once more. Put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a heart-shaped box in black velvet. The women in the room took a collective breath. Marius bounced in his seat, clapping his hands.
Alexander opened the box and went down onto one knee.
Isobel could hardly breathe. It was unbelievably clichéd, she knew that, hadn’t even realized people did this in real life, not in Sweden at least. But apparently there was a romantic side of her that loved this grand gesture. Because how else could she explain the tight feeling in her throat?
Her eyes didn’t move from Alexander. The room was dead silent.
“Will you be my wife?”
She bit her lip, tried to control herself, but gave up with a rather ignominious sob. Her makeup would be ruined now. She squeezed his hand tightly.
“I’d love to.”
He breathed out. “Thank God for that,” he said, with such a relieved voice that shouts of joy rang out.
The guests laughed, applauded, and began to hug one another. Champagne corks popped, glasses were filled, and then the women crowded around Isobel to admire the ring. Alexander was drawn into hugs and congratulations, and Isobel caught a glimpse of him in the middle of it all. He pinned her gaze with his; pure happiness on his face, a wide grin tugging at his sensuous mouth. She saw her own joy reflect in his eyes, marveled at the warmth of his kindness.
I love you, she mouthed, and he came to her, reached for her through the laughing guests, drew her to him, and caught her lips in a fierce, demanding, uncompromising kiss that made the breath go out of her.
“I love you,” he said while the cheers in the room and the heat in those perfectly blue eyes made her cheeks flush. It was an amazing thing, this feeling that swept her. Thrilling. Promising.
“I thought you didn’t believe in love,” she teased.
He answered by giving her a wicked grin and kissing her again, his lips softly moving against hers. “You have turned me, Dr. Sørensen,” he murmured with a gleam in his eye. “To love. And other things.”
Epilogue
Tom Lexington opened his eyes.
He was in pain, which meant he was still alive.
His mouth was so dry he couldn’t swallow. If he had the choice, dying of thirst wouldn’t be his first preference.
He would rather not die at all, actually. Even if there had been days lately when his certainty about that had started to falter.
He heard voices outside the door before it suddenly flew open, and he was hauled up onto his feet. Roughly. He couldn’t hold back a groan of pain. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t hurt.
They dragged him out into the sun and the heat.
People rarely thought of it.
That there were some alternatives worse than death.
They pushed him down onto his knees, and Tom had a grim feeling he would soon get to experience at least a few of them.
Photo credit: Anna-Lena Ahlström
SIMONA AHRNSTEDT was born in Prague and is a licensed psychologist, a cognitive behavioral therapist and, most important, a bestselling author. As her novels have swept best-seller lists in her native Sweden, she has become a spokesperson for books by women, for women, and about women. Her provocative women’s fiction has been sold in multiple languages as well as in audio format. She lives outside of Stockholm, Sweden, with her two teenagers.
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