His voice rang out behind us like a final warning.
I turned in my seat and looked back at Magnus. “Fine.”
Not sure if he heard it, but I meant every word.
I had already made up my mind. I was going to divorce Magnus. I didn’t plan on going back to that house ever again.
Sven drove fast the entire way. He seemed filled with anger, though I had no idea where it was coming from. He’d always been calm and collected; this was the first time I’d seen him so on edge.
I pulled a cigarette from my bag and held it up toward him. “Mind if I smoke?”
Sven shook his head.
I lit it and rolled the window halfway down. As soon as I did, he eased off the gas. Cold wind rushed in and hit me square in the face.
I exhaled a long trail of smoke before speaking. “You got a place I can crash? I’ve just been kicked out and need somewhere to stay–for now.”
He glanced over at me briefly. “Yeah.”
Just one word.
By the time I finished my cigarette, Sven had already pulled over.
“I’ve got a small apartment,” he said. “I use it sometimes when work keeps me too busy to go home. Someone comes by to clean it regularly. You can stay there.”
2/2 15.2%
go home, someone comes by to clean it regularly. You can stay there
He led me upstairs.
On the way, I asked him, “Sven, why did you decide to become a lawyer?”
Considering his background, he should’ve been set to take over the family business.
He held the elevator for me, then stepped in and turned to face me. “Wasn’t that your dream?”
His words froze the smile on my face. I looked down and let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. I almost forgot.”
Besides being Mrs. Finck, I was still Evelyn.
I’d studied law and political science in college. I did well–so well that one of my professors had suggested I go into the judicial system.
Unfortunately, I was young and foolish. Right after graduation, I stepped into the role everyone envied–Mrs. Finck.
Just like that, my entire world began to revolve around Magnus. Ten years of my life spent serving him, only to be treated as trash in the end.
Well, maybe Magnus was right. Looking back now, I kind of agree.
Out of habit, I reached into my bag for another cigarette, but the elevator dinged and opened before I could light it. I ended up just fiddling with it in my hand.
Sven, who stood nearly a head taller than me, looked down and caught the motion. “Craving one already?”
I didn’t really know. So, probably I did.
Sven then opened the room’s door and stepped inside.
The place wasn’t big, but it was spotless–neatly kept, everything in its place.
Sven told me to sit down, then disappeared for a moment and came back with a first–aid
kit.
“The swelling’s pretty bad. You need something on it.”
He sat down beside me, opened the kit and started rummaging through it for disinfectant and some anti–inflammatory ointment.
“I can do it myself,” I said, reaching out–but he didn’t let go.
He interjected, “Can you even see it clearly? Let me.”
I leaned back slightly into the couch and he naturally moved in closer. With his face so near, I could feel his breath brushing against my cheek.
Our eyes met. I tensed up instantly. “Seriously, I can handle it.”
“Don’t move,” he said, still focused, dabbing the disinfectant gently onto the bruise. When he finished cleaning the wound, he applied the ointment with the same careful touch. His fingertips were cool against my skin and it startled me–made me a little
nervous.
2/3 17.2%
Don’t move he said, still focused, dabbing the disinfectant gently onto the bree
When he finished cleaning the wound, he applied the ointment with the same careful touch. His fingertips were cool against my skin and it startled me–made me a little
nervous.
Just as he finished, he suddenly looked up at me. “You didn’t fight back?”
I turned my head, avoiding his gaze and gave a half–hearted smile. “I’ll go get a medical report later–file a domestic abuse complaint.”
Sven’s expression turned serious. “You mean that? If you’re serious, I can help you.”
I let out a short laugh and reminded him, “Sven, have you forgotten? He’s your best friend.
I pointed back and forth between the two of us. “You and me, what even is this?”
I added jokingly, “You’re not even married. Don’t let me take advantage of you.”
Sven’s face didn’t waver. There was a steadiness in his eyes. “You and I,” he said, “we were something too.”
He meant a life together. A real one.
I didn’t know how to respond.
He was too sure and that certainty made me nervous.
My phone started ringing again in my bag. It hadn’t stopped all this time.
