“Okay, as I was saying,” Mom starts, “you’re… someone with a fan account, but you always seemed too busy with hockey to find anyone.”
“Only liking guys kind of narrows my options down, as does moving across the world every two years,” I mutter, grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“But then Luke happened,” Dad says, and I nod. “What happened there?”
“Nothing much. We met, hung out a lot, and couldn’t fall back to being friends after I had to move back to Sweden.”
“And now he’s moving here less than a year later.” Mom puts her wine down and rests against the counter, facing me.
“Sure, when you put it likethat, it sounds wild, but he isn’t being rash. That’s why it’s taking a while for him to come over. Planning and stuff takes time.”
Dad sits down. “That’s a huge decision.”
“Exactly. And if anyone should be concerned, it’shim. Moving was his idea.”
Mom sighs. “Erik, forgive us for being alittleconcerned. Think about how it sounds to us: you suddenly mention that you’re dating someone, he’s in another country, and he says he’ll come here to be with you. I hope you both know how hard it is to find a job here without fluent Swedish. Does he even work? How is he?—”
“Mom, stop.” I take a few breaths to steady myself before continuing. “Yes, he works. He isn’t quitting his job. His company lets him work from anywhere in the world. He makes more money than I do. I’m certain he isn’t trying to scam me because he would have given up in favor of an easier targetlongbefore now.”
Finally, everyone is silent.
Until Eva isn’t. “He makes more thanyou?”
I give her a terse nod.
She snickers. “Damn, Erik has a sugar daddy.”
“Christ, Eva. Luke isn’t my sugar daddy.”
“He could be, though. Luke accepted my follow request, and he posts fromeverywhere.” She turns her phone to our parents. “This is him in Korea. I’vealwayswanted to go to Korea.”
“Yeah, I heard the northern part is beautiful. You should go there,” I mutter.
Dad chokes on his sip of beer and Mom drags a hand over her face, but I don’t care.
“Why is he movinghere? It’s so cold and dark,” Eva says, changing the subject.
“Luke actually likes it here, and he visited inFebruary. He said it was nice and warm.” Luke was probably kidding, but itwasrather pleasant when he visited.
“Seriously? Helikedit here in thewinter?”
“He did. What about it?”
“I’m sorry—your boyfriend has fucking Stockholm syndrome.”
The rest of my family groans while Eva leans back in her chair, smug and crossing her arms.
“Making bad jokes is supposed to bemyjob,” Dad says, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Okay, guys, we’re getting a little off track here,” Mom says. “Erik, we’re glad that you found a nice guy, but there still is a lotthat’s up in the air. What if his visa doesn’t end up working? The government here is getting stricter with immigration.”
“Then Erik will marry him,” Eva says, acting like it’s a done deal.
“Should I?” I speculate out loud. Marrying a guy I met less than a year ago is a huge deal, and yeah, I’m notactuallyconsidering it.
Still, Eva firmly tells me yes at the same time Dad says “no, don’t.”
Mom frowns. “That’s very impulsive, Erik.”
