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“That’s the problem. We’re both married to our jobs.” Well, that wasn’t really the problem was it? That would only be the problem if they weretryingto make something work. “None of this matters, anyway. These feelings are entirely one-sided.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” he said, thinking back to the explicit conversation they’d had on the topic, a conversation that had been initiated by her.
“Have you expressed any of these supposed one-sided feelings? Have you asked her how she feels?”
“Oh for god’s sake, Torkel. I’m glad you’re happy but honestly, Sebastien has turned you into a starry-eyed romantic.” He shoved a spool of ribbon toward him, even though experience had taught him that Torkel couldn’t make a bow to save his life. “Are you here to help or not?”
“I’m here to help. I’m just saying that you’re allowed to want things for yourself.”
“What doesthatmean?”
“You arrange things so everyone else is happy. I know that’s your job, but it goes beyond your job. All these couples you’ve gotten together. These Christmas baskets. When doyouget to be happy?”
“Service to Eldovia makes me happy,” he said, and though he had always believed that to be true, it suddenly sounded like a hollow refrain.
“That’s fine, but don’t you ever want things that have nothing to do with Crown or country?”
“I—” He did. He just didn’t know what todowith that want. It was an unfamiliar, ill-fitting thing. “What if what I want is beyond my reach?”
Torkel shrugged. “Well, you’llneverget it if you don’t try.”
The next morning, Cara woke up to her phone ringing. It was Matteo. They’d texted a lot, but they’d never talked on the phone.
“Matteo? Is everything all right?”
“Let’s go skiing.”
Her stomach dropped. “What?”
“Skiing. We can go to the run we saw yesterday. It’s nearby. It’s good for beginners.”
“I don’t ski.” She heard the ice in her tone, but honestly, had he heard anything she said yesterday?
There was a long silence. She was about to put an end to the conversation when he said, “I know, but I think you don’t ski because of Bradford Worthington III, and that seems a shame. Bradford Worthington III doesn’t seem like the kind of person who deserves that much power. And you wanted to do all the winter things this weekend, did you not? I can teach you. It’ll be just us. No one will see you.”
She gasped. Oh, Matteo. Good, kind, generous Matteo whom she had completely misjudged. He was setting up an exorcism for her. Even though, after she left, he would never see her again, he was trying to make things better for her. Because that was what he did. Her throat tightened.
“But of course you’ll be busy,” he added. “It was merely a passing thought, and probably an ill-advised one.”
“I don’t have the right gear for skiing.” She hoped he would take that as the assent it was. He was giving her an opportunity here, a chance to get rid of this heavy, ugly thing inside her. She wanted to take that opportunity, but for some stupid reason, she couldn’t make herself outright say yes.
“You mean there’s something you don’t have in that bottomless Mary Poppins–style bag of yours?” She could hear the smile in his voice, and something in her chest settled. “We can rent everything at the hill.”
Ninety minutes later they were doing just that. After they hadall the stuff she needed, he led her outside and sat her on a bench near the base of a small hill. He was kneeling at her feet to help her with her boots, but he paused and looked up at her.
She knew he was asking, without actually asking, how she was doing.
“I’m okay,” she said. And she was. It was a little odd how okay she was, actually, but she wasn’t going to question it.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I thought this was going to be a big deal. An exorcism. And maybe it is an exorcism, but apparently it’s not going to be a big dramatic one.”
“A quiet exorcism,” he said thoughtfully. “I like that idea.”
They smiled sort of goofily at each other for a moment before he finished getting her into her boots and leading her to a very small hill. She almost laughed. This hardly counted as skiing.
