Whiskey & Wildflowers

Chapter 19

Fan = literally means 'devil' but translates as 'fuck'

Jävla idiot = fucking idiot

Vafan = what the fuck

Älskling = Term of endearment, usually darling or honey

Josie's knees buckled as Henrik paused at the edge of the trellis and turned to someone behind him. He reached out a hand, and a moment later, a woman appeared at his side, her fingers twined with his.

He had switched.

Josie's head started spinning, and her stomach threatened to empty itself of its contents as she swayed on shaky legs. She was barely aware of the murmurs around the fire pit and someone's low whistle of surprise.

She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to five, hoping and praying that when she opened them again, he would be alone in front of her, and the other woman would turn out to be a figment of her imagination. Or maybe she was still on the daybeds, taking a nap, and this whole recoupling was all just a dream.

Her eyes opened. Her vision was much blurrier this time, but the woman was still there. The mop of reddish curls was unmistakable, and Josie burned with anger as she stood taller, her lips pursed together and nostrils flaring. Another redhead? Really?

She wasn't sure what was more surprising — the fact he'd switched, or just how much it fucking hurt. Like a knife wound deep in her chest. This, this was why she didn't do relationships. If even Henrik, for all his supposed loyalty, would switch on her, then how could she trust anyone else?

Blinking back her tears, she forced herself to glare at him as the two of them continued their too-long trek from the villa to the fire pit as she stood there like a mug. The smile had disappeared from his face, replaced by a shell-shocked expression. His skin had gone white, paler even than the day he'd walked into the villa with Lucas by his side, and his shoulders had dropped. It was like his whole body had deflated in just a few short seconds.

He stole a look over at the boys who were still lined up in a row in front of the fire pit, where Magnus was shaking his head with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey there, little brother," he said. "You're a fucking idiot."

"Magnus—"

"Nah, shut up. She's not Nils." He let out a string of angry-sounding Swedish words, and Josie could only presume he was cursing his brother out. She stared at him in confusion, wondering what he was saying and what he meant. Who was Nils?

"Okay, I think that's enough," Laura cut in, her eyes wide with bewilderment. Maybe if she knew what was being said, she would have let it continue, but what was the point if the English-speaking audience wouldn't even understand?

Magnus let out another choice-sounding word before shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively. Henrik just stood there, hanging his head.

"I'm so sorry, Shannon," Laura said to the new girl. "What a way to come into the villa!"

Shannon.

Josie snorted as the other woman shrugged. "You're apologizing to her? What about to me?" Her voice shook as she spoke, and she blinked back the persistent moisture pooling in her eyes as she fixed her glare on Henrik. "What the hell, Henrik?"

He flinched, as if he had been slapped, but didn't look up.

"I... I don't know what to say," he said, so quietly she could barely make out the words.

She stared incredulously at him.

"You don't know what to say? You've made me look like a mug, standing here by myself while you come strolling in with this—this—with Tits McGee over here?"