Thank goodness people spoke English at the airport, thought the woman. Sierra took a taxi. She didn't want to take the risk of getting lost.
Jonas had five known addresses, and they had to be in five different cities to jive things up. If it weren't for Dirk Alström, his lawyer Sierra would have visited each address.
Sierra reflected on her actions; nothing made sense.
Nothing she did was sensible since the wedding, or was it a little before that?
When did she become such manna of nonsense?
Here she was on unknown territory with her son and four jam-packed suitcases and a backpack in front of Jonas's door with a hiccuping heart of apprehension.
Many scenarios moonwalked in her mind.
What would Jonas say or do?
Sierra didn't call to announce her arrival; she didn't even book a hotel room just in case.
What was she thinking?
How could she candidly believe the man would welcome her with open arms?
Worse, how could she assume she could stay at his place?
Sierra imagined how Jacob would knock his knuckles on her forehead if he knew how little she prepared her voyage.
Panic struck, her heart throbbed in an unearthly manner.
"Breathe, Sierra. Breathe."
Sierra closed her eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and rang the bell. She was already there, come what may.
A minute passed, she pressed the bell again; perhaps he didn't hear.
Slowly it became clear to her that Jonas wasn't home. Before disappointment cloaked her, Leone released a little papa of hope.
"Papa isn't here, Leone," but the little boy in Sierra's arms who saw over her shoulder continued, "papa."
"Sierra, is that you?"
Sierra's heart stopped. The voice came from behind. When the beats took off again, the woman heard a symphony of tribal drums as she turned to face bewildered Jonas.
Almost two months had passed since Jonas plummeted her wedding, and Vincent canceled.
Jonas left just like the first time without giving any news or waiting for an answer.
Everything happened so fast that the woman experienced an emotional glitch and let routine govern her. From the future bride, she became a divorcee.
Guilt played on her consciousness, she tried not to think of him, but it was impossible. It wasn't just the stolen kiss. Everything concerning the man from the moment they met taunted her daily.
Vincent asked her if she loved him and her truth was not anymore. After a walk in the guilt wilderness, her anger reached its climax once the emotion of love claimed her.
"Sierra."
There stood the same old Jonas in front of a woman who saw him as a man.
Would he catch her if she fainted? The ground appeared to swirl under her feet, and Sierra felt giddy. Sierra fantasized and daydreamed daily, but real-life Jonas was spectacular, even unshaved with long ruffled hair.
"Sierra?" The man repeated and waited for a response as he, too, played the simulation game of their encounter.
Sierra gently put down Leone. The little boy stood steady.
She's here; the woman was really in front of his house. The shock was immense for Jonas, but its scent was sweet, the scenario wasn't something he would have bet on a few months ago, but he loved this reality.
"Leone, look, there's a plane," Leone loved planes, and the one he saw from the window hanging in Jonas's hall intrigued him.
Sierra assured that Leone wouldn't turn as she advanced to stand in front of Jonas. Before the man could utter another word, she lifted her hand.
Jonas gazed straight into her eyes.
"This is for leaving, for kissing me and abandoning me again.
Jonas waited, but her hand stopped before striking his cheek.
How could she love and hate him at the same time, yet it was how Sierra's felt. Her emotions jerked back and forth in repeat.
Jonas pressed her hand on his cheek with his. It took the man a second to realize he did not feel the cold sensation of metal on his skin.
Sierra's hand was bare.
Where was her wedding ring?
The man's thought had not landed. Only then did he begin to have a semblance of reflection that rekindled his heart.
"You acted like a jerk," she whispered while praying the tears would remain behind the barrage of her lashes.
"Sorry."
"But what I did was far worse."
Pain and suffering seemed to be a trademark between them. On those grounds, they understood each other.
Sierra went to pick up Leone, who stretched his arms to go to his father.
"If you hate me, why are you here?"
Sierra's eyes grew wide in shock, "huuuh, hate, when did I say that? Your interpretation is twisted.
"Then you wanted to see me?" The man needed to be sure it was not a cordial visit.
Sierra lowered her gaze, "see you, who would want to see you? I came because Leone missed you. He has been going papa, papa, sinceㅡ never mind."
Jonas looked at the four suitcases stacked near the door, "how long do you plan on staying here?"
"Till Leone and I get bored to death of seeing your face."
The man who wasn't in the mood to smile found himself trying to refrain from doing so as he said, "sounds good, you won't get bored."
Sierra rolled her eyes; the man's easygoingness was unwarranted, just like her resolve" are you just going to leave us here?"
Jonas stepped forward, and Sierra stood aside to let him open. He then went to grab the suitcases and entered. Sierra followed with Leone.
They needed to talk, they had to clear things up, yet they registered the situation at that instant.
Sierra stood in the vast space supposed to be a hall.
How big was his house?
They advanced the living room alone was as big as two-thirds of Sierra's apartment. The woman didn't have time to ponder has Jonas's dog came to Sierra's feet.
"Leone arrête [Leone, stop it]," the little boy who loved animals battled for Sierra to put him down.
"Leone."
"You can let him down; Rufus likes kids."
Sierra did as Jonas suggested, and Leone sprung jumped from her arms.
Empty-handed, Sierra found herself looking at her feet.
What was supposed to happen next?
"Sierra."
"Yes, Jonas," her eyes locked on the man's face. It seemed like an eternity, his eyes and expression how she missed him.
Like teens, they stood in an awkward stance while Leone wrestled and got acquainted with Jonas's dog.
"Eh, perhaps I can show you your rooms."
It took a second for Sierra to register, "huh, yeah."
Leone automatically got up and followed only to be scooped up by Jonas, "gosh, how you've grown, and you walk and everything."
"That's your fault. Leone looked for you everywhere."
Sierra virtually banged her head against the wall.
Why did she keep rubbing things in when she was the one who needed to apologize?
Sierra didn't want to talk about it then. She was still rehearsing her eloquent love declaration in her mind.
"This is Leone's room."
Sierra frowned, "you had a room ready for him?"
"I was restless when I came back from Paris the first time. I began with the bed, and I just finished the wardrobe."
Everything was handcrafted the bed, the wardrobe, and the rocking horse.
Sierra stepped inside, "It must have taken ages."
"Yes, it didn't, but I couldn't sleep so."
The man didn't need to say it. His traits were hollow; his state resembled Vincent's.
What kind of monster was she? Sierra could not know the stigmas were of all the battles he fought while she lived the good life.
"Jonas, are you okay?"
The man nodded, "we have all the time to talk, don't we?"
Sierra nodded; she came for him. She wished to be by his side, "of course, Jonas, we have all the time we need." In his room, too, Leone battled to get down. He hurried straight to the rocking horse.
"Papa, cici."
Jonas looked at Sierra, who translated, " he said come here. He can't say vient ici correctly."
"Sierra, he said, papa," Jonas exclaimed.
"Yes, he knows how to say dad."
"How does he know I'm his father?" Jonas asked with a sheepish expression.
Sierra cocked a brow, yet an uncanny smile boarded her lips "tell me, how does he know I'm his mom. He knows that's all."
Jonas went to join Leone and assisted him while he rocked back and forth. Sierra walked to the window and looked at the new landscape. She was in Halmstad city in Sweden with Jonas.
The thought shone in beaming lights in her mind.
"It's beautiful here, Jonas."
"I guess we'll be able to play that Swedish scrabble after all," he teased.
Sierra turned and smiled. Leone played while Jonas opened a door across from Leone's, "you can sleep here. It's one of the guest rooms."
"One of, you say?"
"My family is huge. I always conceive the interior of my houses with them in mind. You and Leone will sleep here. Mine is downstairs since I work at night. I hate to bother everyone with my shuffling steps.
"I see."
"I'm not far, Sierra."
"I didn't ask," the woman said, widening her eyes. It embarrassed her to think her feelings showed.
"Are you guys hungry? What do you want to eat?"
Sierra refrained from saying anything made by you and answered, "Kalops."
"It's quite warm outside, Sierra. It's a winter dish, are you sure?"
"Yes, I want your Kalops."
Some things didn't change. Food was still an element paving the way to the woman's heart.