His gaze flicks to me over the table. “You do?”
“I was four when my mother died in a boating accident.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t remember much about her. Just little flashes. She smelled like this one specific brand of sunscreen and wild jasmine. I remember her humming melodies around the house and how she never finished a chocolate bar without offering my dad a piece. Small, somewhat meaningless things similar to that. But mostly, every other detail about her is gone from my memory.”
Rasmus watches me, something unreadable in his expression.
“My dad remarried,” I continue. “To Gloria. You’ve met her, right?”
“Yeah, I met her at the party.”
“Well, she was my nanny first, but then she became my stepmom pretty quickly,” I shrug. “And honestly? She’s amazing. The best thing that could’ve happened to us. Gloria raised me, and she’s always loved me like my brothers, her biological children.”
“But you still wonder.”
“Exactly. I wonder what life would’ve been if my mother had been here instead of her. If my biological parents had stayed together and my brothers were never born…” That thought alone makes a tear fall down my face.
Rasmus shifts, his chair scraping against the floor as he stands. A second later, he’s crouching next to me.
“Hey.” His voice is low and steady. “It’s okay. Let it out.”
I shake my head, swiping at my damp cheeks. “I?—”
“I know.”
“I wish she was here to experience all of this.” I motion to my slightly swollen stomach.
“Everything is going to be okay.” He gets up, offering his hand to me. “Let’s sit on the couch.”
A fresh wave of tears threatens to spill over. His arms come around me instantly, solid and warm. I press my face against his shoulder, tears wetting his shirt. His hand rubs slow circles over my back to help me calm down.
“It’s weird, isn’t it? Missing someone you don’t remember,” Rasmus whispers.
“Yeah.”
The room around us feels heavier, the weight of our sharedgrief settling between us. I blink rapidly and press my palms to my eyes. “God, I hate this.”
Rasmus exhales deeply, his gaze dropping to my stomach and coming up again to meet my eyes. “I don’t know what it’s like to have a mom who’s there,” he admits. “But I do know what it’s like to wish for something that can’t be.”
“What helped you to move forward?”
“Time. I also realized that I was unbelievably lucky to have my maternal grandparents. They were there when my mom couldn’t be.”
I sniffle, my voice small. “What happened to her?”
“She eventually got sober and moved to one of those farm communes. The last time she called was to ask for some money because she saw me on the news.”
“Oh Rasmus,” I pull back from him, my eyes burning again.
“She doesn’t deserve your tears, sweetness,” his hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a single tear.
That nickname.
I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly we are only a few inches apart. My breath catches as his eyes flick to mine, searching, and then he leans in further.
The second his lips touch mine, the familiar warmth floods through me. The kiss is soft and slow, but there’s something deeper beneath it. Something that makes my stomach flutter, full of butterflies.
But then I pull back abruptly. “Sorry, but we can’t. I?—”
Rasmus blinks, his jaw tightening and he nods. He shifts back, giving me the space I need. “Okay.”
