Chapter Seventeen

Seventeen

I close the calendar app on my computer with a sigh. November 20.

Twenty days without Erik.

When he left to help his parents, I expected to be alone in the apartment for a couple of days. Maybe a week.

Not the eternity it has been.

Every day, I look at the door anxiously. I check my phone every five minutes, but the entire Brazilian population texts me before he sends any news.

At regular intervals, a seed of panic grows in me. The fear that he won't come back. That he will stay where his parents live and find a job there. That I will lose my home— our home—because I won't be able to afford it alone.

The fear that I will lose him forever.

Not that he was ever mine. But that's not how it feels in my heart.

Sometimes I feel like texting him and saying how much I miss him. Most likely, though, this would only make him decide to stay in Jutland for good.

He is running away from me. From us and all that we could be.

I do write to him, but we keep it to roommate subjects. And he is incredibly slow at answering. As far as I know, his dad is feeling better, moving around with crutches and some help, and will make a full recovery.

The project is on a halt. Erik brought his laptop with him, but I don't think he's been working. I also can't find inspiration and discipline without him here.

I get home from work exhausted—physically, mentally, and emotionally. All I want in the silence of my too-empty apartment is to lock myself in my room, lie in bed, watch movies, read, or speak with my family and friends on the iPad.

Erik spoiled me. I spent six months getting used to living on my own, but now that I've lived with him, I suddenly find it hard to breathe when I think about being in this city all by myself.

I can't let that defeat me though.

The Escape Room + Pub Night Fun Season event was supposed to happen last week, but it was postponed because Lars got sick. I texted Erik about the new date, and he said he would see if he could make it.

Maybe he won't.

So what if he doesn't, right? That could be my chance to show Lars—and myself—that I'm good enough on my own.

"Are you okay, Sol?" Chiara asks me when she sees me staring at my coffee absentmindedly.

"Yes." I look up quickly and flash a smile in her direction, perhaps with a bit too much effort. "All good."

She might have asked more, but my forced joy dismisses her.

I've opened up to my cousins, my mom, and the women at her salon, at least. I had no choice. That day in Tivoli, when I posted those selfies with Erik, they started bombarding me with messages and comments. I asked Larissa to tell them it was staged, and she answered, "I already did, and they're freaking out anyway."

I had a video call with them the day after to tell the whole story. Edna was almost weeping when I finished. My cousins were shouting that I had to tell him how I felt. Flor was speechless, and my mom put her nose on the screen to tell me up close that one does not simply let a man like that go.

Not that she said it with those words, but her speech became a meme in the private group I have with my cousins. All because I sent them a screenshot of my mom's zoomed-in face and Mariana Photoshopped it on top of a picture of Boromir from The Lord of the Rings . When Luana showed her the photomontage, Mom simply shrugged and mumbled something about our hopeless generation who totally misses the point of wise words spoken by elders.

I stare down at my keyboard, wondering what task to tackle next, when my phone vibrates. I retrieve it at the speed of light, even though I know it's probably not Erik.

It's from Cinder.

From Thomas Hansen, a too-good-looking-to-be-real guy I chatted with on Cinder months ago yet haven't seen in person because he never asked me out.

My heart skips a beat. I haven't thought of this dude for a long time. Since Erik came into my life, to be precise.

Thomas: Hey, Sol. How are you doing? Sorry for disappearing. Things have been a little chaotic.

Me: Hey, Thomas! Nice to hear from you again. What have you been up to?

Thomas: I got this new job, and it's been hard to adapt, but I'm enjoying it. I'm also learning to play guitar. What about you?

Me: I'm pretty bored, actually...haha... Work, home. Home, work.

He knows I'm a game designer, but not where I work. I'm careful with people I don't know. I only reveal details of my life once I meet the guy in person and decide I want to keep seeing him. Not that it's particularly hard to find information about people nowadays, but still.

Thomas is a bit of a ghost though. No other social media profiles. Nothing I could stalk. So I won't be showing my cards until he shows his.

What is happening, Sol? Are you actually considering dating this guy? What about Erik? Larissa's voice says in my head. I could text her and get her real thoughts. But I want to keep this one to myself. For now, at least.

It's been twenty days. Maybe it's time I stop dreaming about a future with Erik.

We had a perfect evening. I had the best kiss of my life.

And he did feel it too, I know it.

But he chose to be a coward.

I don't need a coward. I need a Prince Charming on a white steed, sword in hand, ready to fight for his love.

We have only been pretending. We are nothing to each other, and as he made clear the day we met, we never will be.

It's easier to accept this truth when I have a plan B.

That's why I keep chitchatting with Thomas, and when he asks if I want to go out for a coffee tomorrow after work, I don't hesitate.

I say yes.

He is late.

I write Thomas my third message: Where are you? I can't call him. I don't have his number, just his stupid Cinder chat contact.

When five more minutes pass, I start to feel angry. He might have been run over by a car, or he dropped his phone in the toilet, or he got stuck in traffic. But most likely, what I had suspected from the start is true.

He is a fake.

I get up, my coffee finished, my apple pie eaten. It was a mistake to come here.

And then Thomas Hansen is there, in flesh and bone.

"Undskyld!" he says, which means "sorry" in Danish. He has curly brown hair, blue eyes, and looks like an angel. "I'm so sorry for my lateness, Sol. I got stuck at work, my boss needed something urgent, and my phone died."

"It's okay," I say with a forgiving smile, even though I wanted to punch him just a minute ago.

I sit back down and wait until he orders a coffee—I say "No thanks, I already had one"—and soon he is ready to start the date I had given up on.

It's weird to be here with a guy who is not Erik, but truth be told, he is more my type: slim, elegant, and refined. I like his formal work clothes and silver watch and how his nails are so well kept they look manicured.

Minutes turn into a couple of hours as the conversation shifts from guitar lessons to bands to movies to games to whale-watching and extraterrestrial contact. He's even nicer to talk with in person.

But as we start to talk about ourselves, he says, "I think I should be honest with you."

I look at him, waiting. For almost three hours, I forgot I was lonely. Forgot I was uncomfortable. That being here feels not only weird but...wrong. Suddenly all those feelings are back.

"I've been on and off Cinder because I've had a...well, a complicated relationship."

I nod, showing him that I'm listening.

"We were breaking up and getting back together all the time, and I was unsure about what I wanted."

I keep nodding, appreciating his brutal honesty. His reluctance to accept my date requests makes sense now.

"And now you broke up again?"

"Yes."

"For good?"

He smiles, looking down. "I know this might make you feel insecure, but yes. For good."

He is not convinced. He still loves this girl and is trying to forget her by being with someone else.

I can relate.

I breathe out through my nose, half laughing. "You're tricking yourself, Thomas."

"Excuse me?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You still love her, and you should go get her back."

He snorts and shakes his head in denial. Confused. "Why are you saying this? I thought you—"

"I don't want someone whose heart belongs to another."

"It's not like that." He frowns. "Just because we've struggled to forget someone, it doesn't mean we shouldn't give ourselves a chance to find love again. A better love."

I look down, playing with my bracelet. "I'm here to forget someone too." As soon as the words come out of my mouth, my face burns, but I continue. "He wasn't ready for a commitment, and he backed away."

"Do you still love him?" Thomas asks. I look up to meet his eyes.

"We were never a couple. I'm not sure what we had, but I'm better off forgetting him."

Thomas looks down at his coffee now, awkward silence growing around our table.

"Why did you like me on Cinder, Thomas?"

"I'll be honest with you again." He sighs, avoiding my eyes. "I made a Cinder account a few years ago when I was helping a friend with some research. I went on a few dates, and then my profile was dead while I was in a relationship with my ex-girlfriend. I was on and off the app, like I told you, even when my friend didn't need help anymore. So, in the summer, when I liked your profile and we started chatting, I was at a boring birthday party. My friends started talking about how you can't find a good match online, and I told them I was having a nice conversation with you. They doubted it would result in anything, but I enjoyed talking to you, so I kept in touch."

I'm frozen. Everything has turned to ice inside of me. My heart has stopped beating.

A friend's research. A friend who thought you couldn't find a good match online.

"Thomas, do you know Erik Storm?" My voice comes out shaky.

"Yes, we're acquainted."

OMG.

Is it a problem if Erik finds out about this date from Thomas?

Mental me answers, Yes! Erik will think I don't like him.

Mental Larissa: Why does that matter when he will never know about your feelings anyway?

"Does he know we've been talking on Cinder?" I ask.

"No, we're not close friends. We just have friends in common."

Don't feel relieved yet.

"Was he the friend you were helping with the Cinder research?" I can't breathe.

"No. That was Martin Olesen."

I suffocate.

Sudden death , it will say in my postmortem.

"Martin Olesen, of course."

For heaven's sake, how could I be so stupid? Why did I not delete this freaking app after I started fake-dating Erik?

I notice Thomas's confused face for the first time since he started breaking me into pieces. "What's happening here, Sol?"

I stand up, moving my chair back noisily. Now all the blood is back in my veins, pumping with full speed. "Please don't tell Martin what I told you about Erik."

If Thomas is Martin's good friend, Martin will know I was here today. If Thomas also reveals what I told him about never being a couple...

"What did you tell me today about Erik?" His eyes are huge.

I rub my forehead and take a deep breath, struggling for self-control. "Forget about it."

I'm getting up again, but he holds my arm on the table, stopping me. "No, wait. I understand now. Erik was your boyfriend. No, your non- boyfriend," he corrects himself.

"You can't tell Martin we had this conversation. You can't tell him, or Erik, that I was here. Please. " I put my hands together to beg.

"I already told Martin I was coming on a date with you today..." Thomas says with a weak voice, looking down.

"You did what ?" Oh geez. Is Thomas Hansen the one who's going to ruin my life?

No. That credit is all mine.

"We're very close, so I mentioned I was finally moving on, you know...after my breakup. Martin was very encouraging, especially after I showed him your profile."

HOLY CRAAAAB CAKES.

Bastard. Scheming son of a donkey.

I close my eyes tight, tears of anger attempting to leak through my lids.

Then I stop humiliating myself. I rise, take my purse, and storm out of the café.