“I’m honored,” I say. “You’re a beautiful woman and a lovely person, but I’m married and my emotions are…not as they should be.”
“You’re damaged. I see your pain. I want to heal you.”
I don’t know what to say.
“It’s OK,” she says, “unrequited love is sad and beautiful. In a way, I’m at least able to borrow you for a little while. And you’ll never forget me.”
“No, I won’t.”
I feel as if I’m getting worse, not better. I’m sleeping even more. When awake, I’m zonked on painkillers and tranquilizers. And I need them. The pain is severe. I’m living on soup again, as I did the last time my teeth were shot out. My knee throbs and something like knife stabs shoot through it. I can feel it, don’t have to be told they won’t be able to put it back together again.
That afternoon, Kate reaches over and takes my hand. She’s back.
She’s not only back, but lucid. And I snap back, too. Just like that. In the blink of an eye. Emotions start rushing, surging through me. It’s overwhelming. So much so that my mind blanks, just swirls. It’s both agonizing and joyful. The shock freezes me for a minute. I can’t move and the room disappears first into blackness, then to blurry white light.
As Jari told me it might, an event brought my emotions back. I feel love for the first time since my surgery. I feel relief that Kate has come back to me. I make my way over to her. We hold each other for a long time without speaking.
“The last thing I remember,” she says, “is shooting Adrien. Where have I been and what has happened since then?”
“Mostly, you’ve been right here. I’ll tell you what’s happened later.” I remained faithful, but I won’t tell her about Mirjami falling in love with me. I explain, though, that she’s been caring for us.
Finally, Kate lets me go, picks up Anu so she can nurse. She’s quiet for a long time, a couple hours. Then she says I’ve done terrible things. She doesn’t know if they were the result of my surgery, or if she doesn’t know the man she married. And now she’s become a killer, too. She’s become everything she despises.
Mirjami asks if her services are still required. I say I’m not sure, but Kate and I can get by for at least one night. We need the time together.
Mirjami gathers her things. “If you want me,” she says, “just call.”
Kate doesn’t catch the double entendre.
Kate rarely speaks through the evening, and we sleep together, but the distance between us is great.
In the morning, she says, “I’m taking Anu and going to stay at K?mp for a while.”
I lost her to brain surgery, finally got her back, and now she’s leaving me. I say as much.
“I’m not leaving you, I just need time to think. Are you able to care for yourself?”
I nod. In fact, it will be difficult. I’ve realized that I’m in such bad shape that I’m in trouble. The pain is at times exquisite.
She offers me no sign of affection. The door clicks behind her.
41
Over the next twelve days, we have dinner twice. It was a mistake to try. She didn’t want to be with me. The silence roared.
One day, I get a text message from Saska Lindgren. “They covered up the murder weapon I recovered from Roope Malinen’s summer cottage. He got a free pass.” No surprise.
June twenty-sixth is Midsummer Eve, the third anniversary of Kate and my first meeting. On the twenty-fourth, I text Kate, ask her if she would like to spend our anniversary together. She doesn’t reply.
Except for our two disastrous dinners, I’ve seen no one since I went into self-imposed isolation. I call my brother Timo. He’s having a party. He invited me a while ago, and I ask if I can still come. Sure.
I go, get whacked on Timo’s pontikka, eat grilled sausages. They light the bonfire at midnight. I get a text from Kate. “I miss you.” I don’t think she wants a reply. I put the phone back in my pocket, have a long drink from my glass of pontikka, and watch the flames climb higher.
BEYOND THE STORY