Tell Me You're Mine(34)

Henrik got home late yesterday. He asked how it went and I told him what happened. There was nothing there. It’s been too long, the person who gave the tip is dead by now. It wasn’t the whole truth. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him Sven Nilsson has Alzheimer’s. I’ll save that miserable detail for myself.

Henrik said he was sorry and wondered how I felt.

I said it wasn’t too much of a surprise. What can you expect after twenty-one years?

Henrik helped me pull down the steps to the attic. I put the diaries back in the paisley handbag in the far corner, behind the boxes.

Henrik was considerate toward me all evening. He made me coffee, he lit candles, massaged my back, and put a blanket over me when I was on the sofa. My previous mistakes were forgiven and forgotten. One of the things I love most about him is that he never holds a grudge.

Besides, I think he was relieved there were no more straws for me to grasp at. And happy I didn’t seem to take it too hard. Because he always knew that I wouldn’t find any new information after such a long time. I am deeply grateful that he didn’t come with me to visit Sven Nilsson.

I know he wants me to find some closure. More than anyone else. Because he loves me. Because he wants the best for me, wants me to feel good.

It’s just that he doesn’t believe she could still be alive.

Henrik is considerate, he cares about me. But he is terrified of my reaction if, or when, I realize I’m wrong. As he said, what will it do to me?

We both know.

It’s almost noon. Lunch soon. Then group therapy.

Finally, I’ll see Alice.





Isabelle



I’ve come down with a terrible cold. My head feels like it’s stuffed with wet cotton, I’m hoarse and have a fever. Not a high one, but enough to stay home. I don’t want to. But Mom has taught me that you don’t go out when you’re sick. You have to put on warm socks, lie down, and rest.

So here I am. I compelled Johanna to take notes for me at the lectures I’m missing. She’s not as thorough as I am, but at least she’s better than Susie.

The doorbell rings. I look at the time. Twenty past twelve. I wonder who it could be. I roll out of bed and glance in the mirror. I look a little pale. No makeup on. I push my hands through my hair and go into the hall. When I open the door, I’m glad I’m wearing my jean leggings and not my old pajama pants. I do regret my huge red hoodie and lack of makeup.

Fredrik is leaning against the wall outside my front door with a big smile.

“How did you get in the front door without the code?” Couldn’t I come up with something better to say than that?

“Somebody went out, and I went in.” He walks past me into the hall and pulls off his jacket. “I heard you were bedridden. I’ve come here to wait on you hand and foot.” He hands me two cartons of Ben & Jerry’s.

“Ice cream?” I say.

“My mother always told me ice cream is the best medicine. Didn’t yours?” he says.

“She’s more into disinfectant,” I say. “And tea.”

“Strawberry Cheesecake is my favorite. But girls are suckers for chocolate, so I brought some Chocolate Fudge Brownie, too.”

He takes off his shoes. His chinos sit low on his hips and tight around his legs. He’s got on a floral-patterned T-shirt in pink and blue. I can feel the goofy smile on my face. He looks up at me and smiles back. I put the ice cream on the hallway table and take a step closer to him. I don’t know how it happens, but suddenly we’re standing with our arms wrapped around each other.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hey,” he answers and draws me even closer. I stand on my tiptoes, lay my face against his neck.

“I may infect you,” I say.

“I’ll take the risk,” he replies and caresses my cheek. “You’re so damn cute when you smile. Those dimples.”

“You think so?”

“All of you is cute.”

This is the best day of my life.

I go into the kitchen with the ice cream and grab two spoons, while Fredrik looks around the apartment. I put the ice cream and spoons on the desk in my room, grab some clothes out of a drawer, and shout that I’m going to the bathroom. I pull off the hoodie, spray on some perfume, and change into a lacy black bra. Then I put on the new shirt I bought on Friday with Johanna. My leggings look good; I keep those. Before I go out I put on some mascara and look at myself in the mirror. I turn around and study my backside, squeeze my breasts and rearrange them.

When I get back to the room, Fredrik is sitting on my bed. He’s leaning against the wall eating ice cream. He sucks on his spoon slowly and looks me over. The change of clothes was a good move.

“Are you gonna share?” I say and sit down next to him. He holds out the spoon, and I have a taste. “Didn’t you go to the lecture today?”

“I left early,” he says. “I missed you too much.”

“Are you going back after lunch?”

He gives me a long look. “You need somebody to take care of you.”

Yes, yes, yes, I need a lot of care.

We eat the ice cream, he feeds me, we discuss which kind is better and why. He was right, I like the chocolate best. He puts the ice-cold spoon against my bare stomach and laughs out loud when I howl. I slide down so I’m almost lying down, and he does the same. I’m enjoying the tension between us, and his gaze, and how he teases me.

He asks if I want to watch a movie, and I tell him to choose one. He starts my computer, and I put the ice cream in the freezer. Do a little happy dance while I’m in the kitchen.

“I think I’m getting sick, too,” he says when I get back into the room.

“Oh no, is that my fault?”

“Probably. As punishment, I’ll expect you to take care of me.”

He grins at me, and I throw a pillow at him. He grabs my hand, drags me into bed, and tickles me. I gaze into his eyes, hoping he’ll kiss me. But he just looks at me. For a long time. Then he pulls away. He puts the computer on the tray next to him in the bed. I find a comfortable position while he starts the movie. He asks if I can see, and I say I can.

A romantic comedy. I wasn’t expecting that. We lie next to each other in silence. I can only think of how close he is. I want to touch him everywhere. Feel his body against mine.

At one point in the story the characters do exactly what we’re doing, sit down and watch a movie. I wonder what Fredrik is thinking. I scoot closer and lay my head on his arm.

The movie goes on; the main characters have sex.

I snuggle closer to Fredrik and put my leg over his legs, bend my knee and rub my foot up and down his shin. He mumbles and puts his hand on my leg, keeping it still.

“You don’t seem particularly sick,” I whisper. I draw my knees upward, higher and higher, feeling what I sensed when I looked down just now. A hard bump under his pants. He moves and looks at me.

“So you think I’m cute?” I tease.

“You make me crazy,” says Fredrik quietly. “Every second next to you without touching you is torture.”

“Do it then.” I lick my lips, watch his eyes narrow.

“Aren’t you sick?”

“Not that sick,” I answer and climb halfway onto him.

I tuck my hair behind my ear. Feel his hands slide around my waist. I slowly run my tongue over his lips, testing. Then I kiss him. And he kisses me.

We make out. His tongue in my mouth, mine in his. Passionately, then slowly, then impatiently again. His hands are in my hair, on my body, around my butt. I draw back; my cheeks are on fire. He is so sexy lying there looking at me. Happy, pleased with himself. I want him. I want.

I lie on his arm, braid my hand with his, and sigh. Happily. He laughs. I pick up my phone, take a bunch of selfies of us. Some where we lie side by side, one where he bites my ear and I laugh, one where we kiss each other, and then a few where we make silly faces.

“Do I get extra credit for showing up with ice cream?” he mumbles with his lips against my hair while I look through the pictures.

“Of course. Hashtag ‘world’s best boyfriend.’ Maybe.” I hold my breath waiting for his response.

“Too bad my girlfriend ate all the ice cream on her own.”

“No, I didn’t!”

He laughs when I pinch him and brushes my hair aside before kissing me.

We make out again. Our tongues, our lips, we enjoy ourselves for a long time. Knowing more is coming makes me almost explode with horniness. Happiness.

And my heart pounds harder. Blood pulses into my genitals. I put my hand over his stomach, put it on his hard-on. I feel it getting even bigger. I rub it with my fingers, squeeze it. He swallows, breathes my name.

My phone rings. I look up, and Fredrik grimaces. I giggle and kiss him. Ignore the phone when it rings again. Whisper that it’s not important. He pulls me on top of him. His hands on my rump. I press myself against him, rub against him, and enjoy feeling how hard he is. I whisper in his ear that I want him.

He puts his legs around me and rolls me over. Laughs when we hit the tray. He sits up, closes the computer and lifts the entire tray onto the floor. I look at his body as he sits astride me. He grins, pulls off his T-shirt, and lies down on top of me again. Kisses me more passionately now, caresses my breasts. His thigh is between mine; we rub against each other.

It starts ringing again.