Chapter 142: CH 142

Erna quickly opened the door and was immediately battered by the ferociousness of the wind that had been waiting.

The powerful gust pushed Erna back and it took her a moment to work up the strength to look out into the blizzard. Peering outside, in the dim light of the lamps, she could make out the shadowy form of Bjorn, his back to the blizzard and edging himself closer to the door until he stood in front of Erna.

“Hmm, 11:52, I’m actually quite early.” He smiled and tucked his pocket watch back into its pocket.

Erna felt lost and unsure about what to do. Acting on instinct, she reached out and pulled him into the shelter of the hallway, so that she could shut out the wind. Once the door slammed closed, the hallway delved into a profound silence.

This man was undoubtedly insane.

In the faint porch light, she could clearly see that he looked messy and covered in snow. His face was extremely pale, making it seem like he could be a ghost.

“Why are you here?” Erna said, gripping Bjorn’s frozen arm. “In the middle of the night, in such dangerous weather, why?”

Erna was overwhelmed with emotions, leaving her at a loss for words and the questions she did ask were laced with resentment.

“Well, I promised, didn’t I?” Bjorn looked down at Erna with a gentle glow in his eyes as he spoke.

“When did you start taking your promises seriously?” Erna shouted, she had never taken it as a real promise. Why was this man, who used to be casual about his promises, now acting so strangely?

“Do you really get this upset when your husband keeps his promises?”

It wasn’t until Erna noticed snow melt dripping from his platinum hair that he was soaked through. There was a growing puddle of melt water at his feet.

“Please, go inside, get yourself warmed up and into some dry clothes.” She swiftly turned around and made her way upstairs, practically stamping her feet as she took each step.

“I will get you a bath ready if you wish.” She walked away from the door calmly, leaving behind the words she had promised.

*.·:·.✧.·:·.*

Erna’s diligent steps echoed through the heavy silence. She lit the fire in the guest bedroom and hurried down to the kitchen where she had put more milk on the boil. She searched through the cupboards for her grandfathers liquor. The smell of cloves and cinnamon filled the air.

Once warmed up, she removed the milk, poured it into a cup with a shot of the liquor then took it up to the guest bedroom. Despite the roaring fire, it would take awhile for the chill of the room to leave, after being left for days. A pang of regret hit her for not heeding her grandmothers advice.

The sound of the plate crashing onto the kitchen floor broke the silence of the night. Erna quickly covered her mouth, suppressing the urge to scream.

The sharp light from the broken plate’s shards left her momentarily dazed.  Glistening tears formed a delicate pool in her eyes. It was hard to understand why the broken plate could affect her so deeply , cascading through her like fragments of her heart, mirroring the brokenness of the dish that lay before her.

Erna sought comfort, hiding her face in her hands and crouching in a kitchen corner, avoiding the light. Tears flowed down her palms, like released rivers, freely and openly expressing her vulnerable state.

She didn’t want to admit that she was waiting for Bjorn’s return, but the moment she saw him emerge from the blizzard, realisation struck her and the emotions she had been denying. She yearned for Bjorn not to come back and yet, wanted him here.

Why did her feelings for him always hold so much weight and significance? The memories of their shared past flooded her mind, followed by tears that only strengthened her emotional turmoil.

She hadn’t chosen divorce out of hatred, in fact, it was because she didn’t hate him and the absence of hatred made her decision all the more difficult.

It was impossible to harbour hatred toward the man she desired. She loved him and her forced hatred grew stronger with each passing day, becoming a burden that caused immeasurable pain. She tried to turn away from it, to escape to the only place she felt any comfort, only to find herself right back where she started.

She was afraid.

She was afraid of being wounded by the shattered fragments of her love, the haunting thought that she was going to end up like her mother, who’s love had only brought her loneliness.

Once the tears subsided, Erna washed her face like she was purifying herself. She found Bjorn sat at the fireplace, drinking the hot milk and brandy she had prepared for him. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the damp hair and ill fitting attire.

“If you’re still cold, add some more alcohol, it’ll warm you up,” Erna said, offering the bottle of brandy.

Bjorn looked surprised, but obediently accepted the bottle. Erna retrieved a blanket from the bed and handed that to Bjorn too, who took it with a bashful grin. She took a step back and watched him. She was relieved to find he had not come to any significant harm.

“It’s still too cold in your room, so you should stay here a little longer.”

“Erna,” Bjorn suddenly called her while looking the blanket on his back and lap, “What about divorce?”

Erna stopped walking and turned her head to look at him. “What?”

“The calf,” Bjorn said. “The calf I named.”

Although he had only taken a few sips of the milk and brandy, Erna felt sure that Bjorn was somehow drunk. She looked at him silently, trying to guess at his game. She smiled, finding it rather silly.

“It’s Christa,” Erna said flatly. “The calf’s name is Christa.”

“Is that not too grand a name for a calf though?”

Erna’s expression turned stern. “I don’t think anyone who would give an animal such a demeaning name like ‘Divorce’ has the right to comment.”

“Christa…” Bjorn said thoughtfully. “It worked out well in Schuber…..Your cookie jar has grown considerably.”

“Your Highness,”

“I had planned on bringing you a gift to celebrate, but as you can see, I come empty handed because you dislike my gifts so much,” Bjorn said carefully, looking about the drawing room, last time he was here, it had been stocked with presents. “Did you put all those presents away?”

“Yes, the warehouse is fit to explode,” Erna said sarcastically.

“Did you open any?”

“No, I left them all as they were, so you can take them back with you, that brooch as well.” Erna’s eyes sparkled like precious gems in the light of the fireplace.

“But you accepted it.”

“I only accepted it on the day because I did not want to embarrass you in front of everyone, but the more I think about it, the more I think it would be better if you took it all back.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels strange to be receiving expensive jewellery when we are on the verge of divorce,” Erna said.

“What about the letter? Will you be returning that too?” Bjorn said with a smile.

Erna struggle with nodding her head. Bjorn looked at her, noticing her cheeks flush.

“How was my letter?”

“How was it?”

“I’m curious. Its the first time I’ve ever written a love letter.”

“Really, what about the one you wrote Gladys? Apparently you have a talent for beautiful letter writing.”

“Well, what can I say, Lechen is blessed with some of the finest poets.”

“You mean, you had a ghostwriter write your proposal?”

“She really thought I had written in?”

“It’s a letter true to your character,” Erna chuckled.

“Was that a compliment, or an insult?”

“Think of it as you wish. Now stop..”

“Don’t go,” Bjorn said suddenly, he sounded sincere. “I wanted to see you, I missed you so much, so I came back. Erna…”

A droplet of water fell from his wet hair and ran effortlessly down his nose. He wiped his face with a shaking hand, tried to swallow a lump in his throat that made it hard to talk and became of the dancing flames in the roaring fireplace.

“Please don’t go,” he said again.

Soft words broke the silence between them as they held their breath, locking eyes.   Outside, the storm continued to howl across Buford.