Page 88 of Hidden in Memories
“How can someone do that to a child? It was so obvious that they’d chosen their family over me. It was cruel and unfeeling.”
Daniel’s greatest fear is that he will repeat his father’s mistake.
“What if I do something like that to Alice?”
“I don’t think you need to worry about that. That’s why you’re here, to work through your problems, the issues that still affect you today, both personally and at work.” Jovanka tilts her head to one side, her expression is warm and understanding. “It’s completely natural that you’ve carried so much rage over what happened, and that you feel deep frustration. You were only a little boy—it’s hardly surprising that you didn’t dare to show your anger.”
She pauses, as if she wants to give him a chance to take a tissue before she goes on.
“Today you are a grown man. No one can do that to you again. You have every right to get mad, but you can decide if and when to do so.”
His eyes fill with tears. He manages a wan smile, reaches for a Kleenex.
Something inside him has eased.
He actually feels better.
67
There aren’t many people in the grocery store in Duved when Anton rushes in two minutes before they close. He grabs a packet of chicken fillets and root vegetables to make a gratin, along with two cartons of milk.
As he heads for the checkout, he stops dead. It looks as if Carl is standing there paying. He is with another guy who is almost as handsome. In fact they look really good together, both with finely chiseled features and thick fair hair.
It must be his new boyfriend.
Given how good the guy looks, Anton is definitely out of the game. Why would Carl want to be with him when he can have someone like that?
He instinctively moves back behind the display of chips and soda. He absolutely does not want to speak to Carl. They might live in the same small village, but over the past year Anton has managed to avoid him. And yet here he is in the store, only a day after they bumped into each other at the council offices in Järpen.
What cruel game is fate playing with him?
Seconds pass as Anton considers the alternatives. He could put down his basket and sneak out—although that would mean he doesn’tget any dinner. Or he can stand here and hide until Carl and his companion have left.
Both options suck.
Cautiously he peeps around the display. To his relief he sees Carl leaving through the glass doors. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Anton.
Which is . . . good?
He waits a few seconds before venturing forward. When he has paid and is back on the street, he can’t help looking around for Carl.
Needless to say there is no sign of him or his boyfriend. They are probably halfway home by now. Anton feels a stab of disappointment, although he ought to be relieved.
He makes his way to his apartment. His stomach was crying out for food a few minutes ago, but when he walks into the dark hallway, his appetite has disappeared. He goes into the kitchen and puts his purchases on the counter, then simply stands there.
Is this how the rest of his life is going to be?
Shuttling between work and home like a robot with his emotions shut down, because he lacks the courage to be open about what he really feels?
Or for whom?
Suddenly he hates himself for being such a coward. For not taking hold of his life.
He glances toward one of the cupboards, which contains a half-full bottle of vodka. Anton doesn’t usually resort to booze to solve his problems, in fact he probably drinks less than most people his age, but this evening it’s tempting.
However, he is well aware that he needs to be at the station early tomorrow morning. He can’t afford to have a hangover.
After a brief hesitation he goes into the living room and over to the corner where he keeps his saxophones. Music is his true consolation, asit has been ever since he started playing at the community music school as a young boy. That’s where he turns when there is nowhere else to go.
