Page 136 of Crease Collision

As we venture deeper into the woods, the path slopes upward, and the air grows cooler. Ozzy slows down as the trees thin out, and when we enter a clearing, he stops us. We’re on a small bluff where the ground drops off. Below, the lake is a deep blue, dotted with a few sailboats. The sunlight glinting off the water makes me squint.

“Come here,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to a flat spot where the ground levels off. We sit with our shoulders touching. We’re probably forty feet above the water, looking down at everything below.

He points at a patch of red barely visible through the trees. “That’s Mamma and Pappa’s house.”

“Their sommarstuga,” I say, proud because I was brave enough to try the word.

“Listen to you. You’re getting more Swedish every day, baby.”

Anna and Fredrik are sitting on the dock in lounge chairs. “How long after your parents were married did they buy this place?” I ask.

“Oh, they are not married.”

I look over. “Seriously? They’ve just lived together all this time?”

Ozzy laughs. “Don’t sound so scandalized, hjärtat. It’s not like they’ve been hooking up for twenty-seven years. They are sambos.”

“What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Sambo,” he says again, shifting so he can look at me. “Basically, people who live together. But it’s not just having a roommate you sleep with. Here, it’s official. You register as sambos, and it means you’re a team, fully committed. The church and government don’t tell you how to define your relationship.”

I blink and look at the red house. Anna and Fredrik built their life together by choice. Two kids, homes, a shared history. No traditional boxes to tick. Just a quiet, legal promise between two people.

My voice comes out soft. “It’s a permanent relationship? Because they choose each other?”

“Precisely. You choose to be each other’s home.”

Now my mind goes into hyperdrive. What about us? The condo in New York, the mornings waking up together, the quiet moments and loud celebrations. We’ve been together more than a year, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

The static in my head goes dead. For the first time in my life, I have no backup plan or exit strategy.

I know exactly what I want.

OSKAR

The Next Day

Bringing Kai to Sweden is one of the best things I’ve ever done. As wonderful as the last year has been, he’s never seemed so content. He’d gotten along with my parents when they visited New York, so I knew that part would be fine. What I didn’t know was how much fun he’d have in Stockholm, learning a new city and exploring my old home.

And I never imagined how much he’d like it here. The house, the lake, the woods… relaxing in the clean air. The lake has always been my refuge; now, with Kai, it is more so than ever. How amazing it would be if we’re still coming here long after we retire from hockey.

The best thing is that we have another week before heading back to Stockholm. Yesterday, Kai told me he’s already in love with Sweden and wants to come back next year for Midsommar. If I could, I’d buy the tickets today.

“Ready for our road trip?” I ask, leading him to the old car.

“We’re taking this?” He gestures at the faded blue Volvo station wagon that’s been a fixture at the summer house for as long as I can remember. “This thing looks like it’s been here since the Middle Ages.”

“Hey.” I try to look offended. “It is a classic. Besides, it has character.”

“Character or multiple personalities? Which one are we getting today?”

“Keep it up, Mercer, and you’ll find yourself stranded alone on the back roads of Lake Hjälmaren.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” He holds up the picnic basket Mamma gave him inside. “Where should I put this?”

“Back seat’s fine,” I say, sliding in behind the wheel.

The car’s interior smells like my childhood. Nothing can replace the memories of sun-warmed vinyl, pine needles, and the faint scent of lake water that no amount of cleaning ever eliminated.