Page 57 of These Tears

I fiddle with the document in my pocket just as Elias puts his in front of her. The woman starts typing something into her computer.

A breath sits on my tongue.

My fingers are too shaky to grab onto the goddamn passport, and I pull out a gum wrapper instead.

Then the agent asks a question in what I assume is Norwegian.

And he—fucking—answers.

I whip my head towards him with disbelief. He meets my stare without a trace of reaction, and the confidence in his eyes jolts me back into the role I’m supposed to be playing.

I drag a smile to my face as the woman turns and cheerfully asks me something.

My eyes start blinking rapidly. I must be stroking out, because I can’t understand a single word that comes out of her mouth.

‘My fiancée is English; she doesn’t speak Norwegian,’ Elias says to her.

Something irrational pinches me when her face brightens for him.

Of all the things my body could choose to do right now, jealousy should not be on the list.

‘Your accent,’ she continues in English as she looks up at him. ‘Nordland?’

I finally hand her my passport. She skims over it while Elias hooks his forearm against the surface of the counter and graces her with a despicable smile. ‘Good ear. Helgeland,’ he divulges, pronouncing it the way only a native Norwegian might. ‘My family’s close to Røssvatnet.’

‘Have a good flight, Mr Halvorsen, and welcome home.’

Home?

Her gaze flicks to me, a warm smile attempting to thaw reality. ‘Future Mrs Halvorsen.’ She nods at me and cheerfully hands back both our passports – which Elias snags right under my hand.

My mouth dries.

Our eyes meet. I watch him pocket my passport in his jacket.

My way home.

No…

We pass.

Oh my God—we pass?

Those last three steps before the archway swallows us, I throw a single glance behind at the security and open my mouth.

And then Elias yanks me into the tiny lift. My cabin bag rumbles over the threshold while I struggle to steady it. The man already inside takes one look at Elias filling the doorway and mutters something under his breath before he backs out.

Elias’ thumb finds the button before the poor bloke can reconsider, and the doors slide shut.

There’s nowhere to go.

The handle catches the small of my back as he closes the distance between us.

‘What did I say about misbehaviour?’ he grumbles into my face.

‘Elias, you can still stop this, Conall can—’

‘Conall can do shit!’ he interrupts. ‘I told you not to dig. I told you to leave things as they are, so now… you’re stuck with me.’