Page 107 of Tell Me What You Want, Or Leave Me

My eyes fill with tears. I’m such a softie!

Eric hugs and kisses me on the lips.

“I’ll tell you again: you’re the best thing I’ve ever had in my life,” he says.

19

Three days later, I’m not feeling so great again.

I must be catching the cold Flyn has had.

My head hurts, and I just want to sleep, sleep, and sleep.

But I can’t. Frida called yesterday because she wants to see us. She and Andrés have something to tell us, and, because of her tone, I think it must be something very exciting. She told me she had also invited Björn to come over. I take an acetaminophen and wait for them.

Laila’s in the kitchen when I take the pill.

“Are you not feeling well?”

My relationship with her isn’t cold but frozen.

“No.”

She nods.

“By the way, some friends are coming over this afternoon and—”

“Oh, who?”

Her interest bothers me. What does she care?

“Friends of mine and Eric’s,” I say, hoping she’ll take the hint. “I’d appreciate it if you gave us some privacy while they’re here.”

Could I be any clearer?

She doesn’t like what I said.

“I’ll go pick up Flyn,” she volunteers.

“No, please,” I say. “Norbert will go.”

“Then I’ll go with him.”

An hour later, the first to arrive is Björn, as handsome as ever. We give each other a hug, and, grabbing him by the arm, I pull him into the living room. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Laila watching us from the kitchen.

I close the sliding door.

“You OK? You don’t look so good.”

“I think Flyn gave me his cold.”

“You should be in bed, beautiful,” says Björn, smiling.

“I know, but I want to know what Frida and Andrés have to tell us.”

“If they don’t get here soon, I’ll put you in bed myself, understood?”

I smile again and give him a punch on the shoulder.

---