𝑶𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒖𝒏

Chapter 5 - Cookies to melt the ice

The sun peeked through my curtains when I woke up the next morning. I tossed and turned a bit longer before finally deciding I would not be getting any more sleep, chances of them resulting in another nightmare were too high anyway. Tired of seeing Luc chasing me, gun in hand, his men right behind me.

It was ten am and Nonna was doing her weekly cleaning of the halls, the soothing white noise of her vacuum cleaner filled the block.

I sipped my coffee, turned on the tv. Four weeks of watching Italian soaps and I still didn't understand a word of what they were saying. But then how at all was I supposed to understand people living a normal life? With their happy families, their nice dads and caring moms and their plenty of friends whom they could rely on. Why not make a tv show that was actually relatable? Or then maybe that was just the thing, people didn't watch tv to relate, they watched it to escape that which they related too much to. Because honestly could anyone relate to the Kardashians? To the people in Friends? To people who were entirely happy with the course of their lives? At least seemingly so?

I got my sneakers with a sigh and put on my running clothes. It was the perfect weather for a good, long run.

As the sweat ran down my face and I found a comfortable pace, I let my mind wander. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about that Alec guy and his cute American accent. And the peculiar way in which he had interacted with me. It had been the encounter I would immediately tell Rune about, but then I wouldn't just call her for just about anything either. We used to see each other nearly every day before, which made it so much easier for us to discuss every little tiny detail about our daily lives. I guess this was what people meant when they said friendships changed over the years. Not necessarily in a bad way, I could always count on her and she on me, but we talked less often, no longer went over every tiny minor event that happened.

I came to a stop near the pier to watch the sea, the crashing of the waves, and listen to the howling of the wind. Sadness washed over me so thoroughly, I had to stop myself from crying. Here I fucking was, in Italy to escape a marriage I was sure would go through if I returned. There was only going forward from here. And I had to stop looking back. Rune was right, I needed to make more friends here. I couldn't go on like this–being by myself the whole time. And I knew just where to start.

I showered, did my nails, my hair, and kicked back on the sofa with a book after stuffing the cookie dough into the oven. I put extra chocolate chunks in them, hoping the extra sugar would win Nonna over.

My phone went off, I ran to pick it up thinking it was Rune when to my horror I read Granny on the lit screen. I had specifically told her not to call me, for fear that my father might have found out I was calling her every now and then. I'd made sure she saved me under another name, but that didn't make me any less paranoid. Grandma had also promised she wouldn't tell dad we kept in touch. But then what if it was the nurses? What if something had happened to Grandma?

I picked up, not saying a word as I held my breath.

"Larsi?" Grandma asked. She didn't sound urgent, or in a panic. Father wasn't there.

I sighed in relief. "Grandma! I told you not to call me!"

"Oh honey. I know, but I miss you so much, I needed to hear your sweet little voice," she said. A pang of hurt prickled in my chest as I realized I wasn't the only one feeling so lonely.

"Grandma," I said, smiling to myself, "Of course, that's okay. I missed you too."

There was a little chuckle from the other side. Grandma had been in an old people's home since last year. Grandfather had passed away and she could no longer cook or clean for herself. Father had arranged for her a pleasant nursing home, with lots of staff and plenty of things to do, but ever since grandpa died she hadn't been the same.