ACCEPT / IGNORE
Smiling from ear to ear, I click on ACCEPT and get the message: Congratulations! ERIK_STORM is now your Date.
I laugh alone in the dark, sitting at the desk that no longer belongs to me. Tears of happiness stream down my cheeks, and I’m almost getting up to rush to the English pub when my phone vibrates.
It’s not him. I have a bunch of unread notifications from my family, as usual.
This time, though, I don’t ignore them. I’m in a hurry to meet my date, but I can squeeze in a couple of minutes to answer my messages.
Dad: How did it all go? Did you get the job you wanted?
Sol: No... I got the job I needed.🖤
Mariana: Tell me your HOT boyfriend did something DELICIOUSLY SEXY (and a little romantic) to get you back!
Sol: He became a forró dancer and made a dating app to ask me out. All in one week. Pretty sexy if you ask me!
Mariana:😲👄🌶🔥
Mariana: If you come back to sleep in this bunk bed with me after this, I’ll kick you out of your own room!
Sol: Don’t worry. The room is all yours. I intend to stay right here.
Larissa: My family will join yours for Christmas Eve🎄 and you’re FaceTime-invited from 11pm–6am CET for some virtual turkey, dad jokes (involving the pavê dessert of course), corny karaoke, and a Secret Santa with cheap-looking gifts under R$20. RSVP so I can put your name in the Draw Name Generator.
Sol: Count me in! Even if I go to Jutland with Erik, I won’t miss that.
Larissa: Are the two of you Thor and Natalie Portman again?
Sol: You could say so.
Larissa: Nice! And cool that you can be at two parties at once and drop out when the jokes become unbearable.
Sol: Not “at once” because you can bet Danish Christmas celebrations don’t run that late. They don’t eat dinner at midnight like us.
Larissa: Well, I’m jealous anyway. Your Secret Santa gift at our party will not be ugly socks or a crochet magazine. You’ll get a GIFT CARD.
Sol: To some restaurant or shop I can’t visit.
Larissa: Then you’ll give it to me. Hee-hee.
Sol: Or I can make you take pictures of the entire store so I can pick what I want and then make you internationally ship the gift to me for five times the price of the product.
Larissa: You’re okay, right?
Sol: With getting a Brazilian gift shipped here? Totally. Include some gummies in the package, please.
Larissa: I meant in general.
Sol: I’m better than ever.
Mom: Should I worry about you, Sol?
Mom: It’s fine to come back, you know...
Mom: But it’s also fine to stay.
Sol: Thanks, Mom. I’m where I’m supposed to be.
Not quite yet.
I look at the clock. Then I take my things and leave at once.
I find Erik in the English pub standing by the counter. He is as Viking-looking as when I first saw him. But even hotter.
And I have absolutely nothing against Vikings now.
I walk toward him, both of us smiling, and when I reach him, he kisses me passionately, lifting me off the ground. I laugh against his lips, and we kiss more.
“I’m so glad you came,” he says. “I’m deeply sorry, Sol, for shutting you out, and for Lars—”
I put a finger over his lips, shutting him up. “I know, Erik. I know it all, and I’m so happy I could dance right here, in front of all these people. With you.”
Erik’s smile brightens the whole room. He leans closer, a hand cupping my cheek.
“I love you, Sol Carvalho,” he whispers in my ear. Hearing his deep voice uttering those words—and saying my name in such a delicious accent—fills me with so many emotions I almost can’t breathe. My vision gets foggy, blocked by the tears emerging in my eyes. I grip his nape, pulling him toward me, and he kisses me. Again and again.
“I love you, Erik Storm,” I say with every ounce of truth in me. “And I’m going home with you.”
