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Meeting Lukas’ father was a mortifying ordeal. For me. Mr. Blomqvist found me endearing, apparently.
His English is not as fluent as Lukas’ or his brothers’, but he holds his own, so we’ve had a few halting conversations. He laughed for a solid thirty seconds when I called him Mr. Blomqvist—I thought I’d accidentally insulted him, but no. He insists I call him by his first name every time I address him, and every time I fail. Calling my… father-in-law(ish?) by his first name just feels… wrong. But it’s apparently the norm here.
I have also met Lukas’ brother Oskar, his wife, and their kids. If I thought Lukas was big, it was because I hadn’t met his brother. He’s taller, broader, blond, and covered in a full beard that makes him look like he belongs on a Viking longship. I felt a little intimidated at first, despite Lukas insistence that Oskar is the softest of the four. But then his daughter braided daisies into his beard while he patiently held still, and the intimidation factor went down considerably.
Leif couldn’t come over because of work, which is probably for the best. Meeting one more Blomqvist right now feels like more than my nervous system can handle.
An uncle also showed up with his wife and teenage children. He cornered me at lunch just to tell me Jan had been parading my diving videos around like prized family heirlooms. “Your reverse two-and-a-half? Excellent,” he said with a nod, before adding, “Though your entry could be cleaner.” Then he winked, and I nearly choked on my meatball.
And Lukas’s grandmother… she didn’t say much to me directly. Her English is not good and my Swedish is embarrassing, but she hugged me like she’s known me forever, and insisted I refill my plate at every meal.
I still can’t quite believe I’m here. In Sweden. In Lukas’s house. Sleeping in his childhood bedroom, of all places. I told him the first night that I had a hotel booked just in case—just in case he didn’t want me here, just in case it was too much.
He looked at me for a moment, expression unreadable, and then said, “Scarlett. You think I’d let you stay in a hotel when you flew across an ocean to see me?”
“Y–yes?”
He just sighed, grabbed my hand, and led me inside. Thankfully I remembered to take off my shoes before he got double offended, but unfortunately for Barb’s credit card, the hotel did not accept last-minute cancellation refunds. Oops.
His whole family has been incredibly nice to me. Too nice. The kind of nice that makes me suspicious, like maybe they’ve all secretly agreed to play a prank and I’m the punch line. But no prank has come so far. Just constant kindness, constant warmth.
I can’t say the same for myself, because I’ve been a nervous wreck the entire time. I don’t know how to interact with so many family members—my family consists of me and Barb. No grandparents, no aunts, uncles or cousins. Especially no children. Whenever one of Oskar’s kids comes to me with their broken English, all I can do is smile and nod. They seem to be fascinated with me anyway, keep bringing me little flowers to braid into my hair and giggle at anything I do.
It’s our last night in Sweden, and I should be asleep. Tomorrow we fly to the U.S., and the closer it gets, the tighter my chest feels.
“You’re restless,” Lukas murmurs, his arms locked tight around me. I try not to think too much about how his body feels pressed against mine. He wasn’t very worried about it, but I told him I refused to have sex in a house where his father and brother were sleeping just down the hall. I don’t think my stance would’ve lasted if he’d really pushed, but he respected my wishes.
“I’m competing for a spot in the Olympics in a few days,” I whisper. “I’m allowed to be restless.”
He presses a kiss to my nape. “You’re allowed to be confident. You’re good enough. That’s not up for debate.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re already in.”
I feel his smile curve into my skin. “And still losing sleep over you.”
That makes my chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with nerves. But then another thought rises, uninvited, and I can’t keep it down.
“We haven’t really talked about Pen.”
He groans and loosens his grip just enough for me to turn and face him.
“What about Pen?”
“I don’t know. We’re going to see her tomorrow—I’ll be competing with and against her.”
“I thought you said she apologized?”
“She did, and I accepted it. We’re on good terms and I want to be friends with her—”
“But?”
“But the last time we competed, I went home crying. And now she’s going to see us together. As a couple. Won’t it be weird?”
He kisses me softly, once.
“It doesn’t have to be. And even if it is, she’ll have to get used to it if she wants to be in our lives.”
I hesitate. “Isn’t that a bit cold-hearted?”
“Scarlett, I talked to her. I told her a lot of things I’d been holding back for years. Things I hadn’t even realized until I said them. She was honest, too. Trust me, she doesn’t care if we’re together.”
“Are you two on good terms? She wasn’t clear about that.” I ask.
“Sure. We both made it clear we might need to take some distance from each other for a while, but we’re good. I’ll always care about her, and vice versa.”
I nod, but stay quiet. He tucks me closer, studies me.
“What is it, Scarlett?”
“Mmh?”
“I think you want to tell me something else.”
I do. It takes me a few seconds, but I finally let the words slip out.
“Lukas, If you ever feel like you’re not getting everything you want, everything you need from this relationship… I need you to tell me.” I say, looking up. He looks at me like I’m delirious.
“Scarlett, there’s no universe where you are not everything I want.” I melt at his words. But I still need to be sure.
“Just promise me.” I wrap a hand around his forearm, caressing his tattoo. “I know you were still dating Pen even when you weren’t really in love with her anymore, when you weren’t even satisfied with your sex life. And I know you were still loyal, I know you would never hurt me. But I need to know that you are with me because you love me, because you enjoy it. Not because you made a commitment.”
He sighs, his hold tighter. His deep blue eyes soften, and I feel dumb for even asking this. Because I can just feel the love erupting from his body. I would know if that ever stopped.
“Okay, I promise you that if I’m ever not fully happy and deeply in love with you, I’ll tell you. I’m just warning you, that’s not a possibility.” I’m liquid under his touch. “My relationship with you is nothing like it was with Pen, in any way.”
“Because I like kinky sex?” I whisper.
“Among other things.” He smiles into my mouth, kissing me deeply, lovingly. And I’m just so happy here, with him, I think the world could disappear right now and I wouldn’t care.
I get what he says. I’ve been in love before, or I thought I had. But that kind of love was nothing like this. So all-consuming, warm, never-ending, always making me want more of it. Of him.
I lay my head on his chest, his hand stroking my back in slow circles, and let sleep come with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat in my ear.