Unspoken

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1

Olle had suddenly called and invited her home for dinner. Finally she would be able to see the children. It was not even a week since she had last seen them, but it felt like a month-at least. She had called the night before and had a chance to talk to them for the first time since she was thrown out of the house. Both Sara and Filip sounded happy and strangely unaffected, in spite of everything that had happened. She wondered what was going on inside their young heads.

During the week various scenarios had fluttered through her mind. One moment it seemed right to get a divorce; the next she wanted nothing more than to be a family again, and she wished that she had never met Johan.

In the middle of everything she became very aware of the fragility of life. She was surrounded by stage sets that were ostensibly solid, but they could crumble at any moment and completely change everything.

At the same time, she was struck by her own stupidity. What was she thinking? That she could have an affair on the side, just to satisfy her own need for validation? She hadn’t realized that she was playing with fire.

Was she prepared to sacrifice everything for Johan? She should have asked herself that question after the first kiss.

Her husband had given her his love, he had taken responsibility, he had kept the promise he had made when they got married. But what about her?

When he had reacted by throwing her out, the ground opened up beneath her.

Right now she had no idea what to think. Except that she was eager for the meeting with Olle to go well. She was deathly afraid that he was going to do something final, such as handing her divorce papers. There was something in Olle’s voice when he called, a different tone that indicated something had changed. And it made her nervous.

She felt like a stranger on the evening of her visit-a guest in her own house. Olle looked happy when he opened the door. He took her coat and hung it up as if this were the first time she had ever come to the house. The situation was absurd. Irritation was just seconds from becoming visible on her face. But then the children came running out to the hall.

She was showered with soft kisses and fierce hugs. She loved holding their warm bodies close and breathing in their scent. Both children were eager to show her the gingerbread house that they had made with Pappa.

“Oh, how lovely,” she told the children as they pointed to the towers and pinnacles. “It looks like a real castle!”

“It’s a gingerbread castle, Mamma,” said Filip.

Olle stood in the doorway. He was wearing an apron, his hair was disheveled, and he looked like a marvelous father. She felt an instinctive urge to give him a hug, but she controlled herself.

“Dinner is ready. Come on, let’s eat.”

When they had finished eating and the children were sent out to watch cartoons on TV, Olle refilled their wineglasses.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to have a proper discussion with you. That’s why I asked you to come here tonight. I didn’t want to talk on the phone.”

“Okay,” she said cautiously.

“I’ve been thinking and thinking. At first I was so mad. I never thought you would do something like this to me. When I found that text message, it made me see red. I really felt as if I hated you, and I wanted to tell the whole world about what you had done. It was as if I’d been living a lie. How could I have been so fucking stupid and not suspected anything? It was all so damn crazy. Not to mention how I felt about that jerk from TV. So many times I’ve been on the verge of going to Stockholm to rip him to shreds.”

He took a sip of wine.

“But in spite of everything I realized that there was nothing to gain by punching him in the mouth. Maybe an assault charge, but that would undoubtedly make him happier than it would me.”

Emma couldn’t help smiling.

“My anger faded after a couple of days, and then I started to think more clearly. I thought about us, how we are together. I’ve replayed our whole life in here.”

He tapped two fingers against his temple.

“Everything we’ve done together and all my feelings for you. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t want to. Get a divorce, that is. Even though you’ve hurt me terribly, because you really have. But no matter how bad it is, I realize that I’m also partly to blame for the whole thing. I haven’t paid much attention to you, I haven’t listened when you wanted to talk. Not that I’m excusing what you did, but that might have contributed to it. It will take a while before I can trust you again, but I’m prepared to try.”

Emma was totally confused. This was not what she had expected.

“Olle, I don’t know. It’s all so sudden. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. But at least now you know what I want,” he said and got up to make coffee.

They drank their coffee in front of the TV with the children and then put them to bed. She left the house without voicing any decision, either to Olle or to herself.