Page 26 of Absolution

I nod.

“Let’s go then.” Lifting Cece out of my arms, he nods in the direction I pointed out. “After you, my dear.”

It’s not easy. The road was easy, this is insane. I have trekked here a lot, during spring, summer and autumn. Autumn is my favorite season. The beauty in the decay, and the slowing down of everything that lives, soothes me somehow. But that’s during snow-free seasons. This is different. We stumble and slip over rocks, roots, and branches. The sun and light are our friends, but it doesn’t warm the air anymore. It helps me with direction, though.

And it goes up, up, up. It doesn’t take long until I’m flustered, and soon there’s a thin sheen of sweat on both our faces. Christian carries Cece the most. He’s stronger.

“Stop,” I pant. “I have to stop. My ankle… and I… have no… breath.” I sink down on a flat rock, not giving a fuck if my butt will get cold and wet.

“You can’t sit there for long or you’ll catch a cold.”

“I have to sit, or a cold will be the least of my worries,” I pant and slump forward, my arms resting on my knees. My heart pounds hard and everything aches.

“We left the road an hour ago. How much further?” he asks and stomps to keep his warmth.

I shake my head and gesture to my chest. I can’t talk. Not yet.

He hands me our little, sick baby and for the hundredth time this morning, I check her pulse, her breathing and her color. Her cheeks are rosy, but it could be the cold. Maybe she’s breathing a little calmer. Just as I look at her, her round, brown eyes open and her pained gaze shoots straight into my heart.

“Hey, tiger,” I whisper.

Christian comes and sits himself next to me. “How is she?”

“I’m not sure. How are you feeling, honey?”

“Wate,” she rasps, and then her gaze searches our surroundings. “Snow?”

I dig in my backpack and pull out the bottle, placing it at her lips. “Yes, sweetie, we’re taking you to the doctor.”

“Ai—ai,” she says and lays a little gloved hand against her chest.

Her pain transfers to me. I hurt when she hurts. Tears well up in my eyes. “I know, honey.”

“Kis?” she whispers. I widen my eyes in surprise. My gaze darts to him and I am stunned by the transformation. It’s as if he’s been lit up from somewhere deep within. And it’s just… beautiful.

“He’s here, Cecilia.” I hold her up so she can see him. And then I say it. “It’s not ‘Chris’, honey. He’s your dad. Christian is your dad.”

I can’t look at him after that, the need to leave him alone with the moment too overwhelming. He reaches for her and she grabs his hand as she coughs. Then she smiles and her eyes flutter half shut.

Christian frees himself from her hold, and as I glance at him, I see his face has once again become an unreadable mask. “It’s time to move on.”

“Do you want to hold her,” I ask shyly.

The corners of his mouth suddenly pull up and his eyes turn warmer. “Absolutely.” He hugs her to his chest, and we start moving again. The steep slope gets to both of us and nothing is said for a long time.

“When does it even out? How much is left?” he pants and hands me our daughter who has fallen asleep again, blissfully unaware of her parents’ struggle.

“Soon, I think. It should be an hour left at most.” I hoist her higher, changing the grip. She’s already too heavy for me and I’ve only walked a few steps with her this time. “On top of the mountain it’ll even out for a while before it starts descending.”

“When we get up there, we need to make a real stop, Ker. Drink and eat.”

I nod, my chest too tight, gasping for air.

And we continue our trek.

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