“I fell in love with you last winter. I didn’t mean to, but it happened. And then I took
stock and realised that you were only here temporarily; one day you’ll be gone for
good, and I’ll stay here for the rest of my life. It hurt so damn much that I decided I
wasn’t going to let you in again when you came back from prison.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. When you left tonight I sat and cried. I wish I had the chance to
live my life over again. Then I would decide on one thing.”
“What’s that?”
She looked down at the table.
“That I would have to be totally insane to stop seeing you just because you’re
going to leave one day. Mikael, can we start again? Can you forget what happened
earlier this evening?”
“It’s forgotten,” he said. “But thank you for telling me.”
She was still looking down at the table.
“If you still want me, let’s do it.”
She looked at him again. Then she got up and went over to the bedroom door. She
dropped her jacket on the floor and pulled her dress over her head as she went.
Blomkvist and Cecilia Vanger woke up when the front door opened and someone
was walking through the kitchen. They heard the thud of something heavy being
put down near the woodstove. Then Berger was standing in the bedroom doorway
with a smile that rapidly changed to shock.
“Oh, good Lord.” She took a step back.
“Hi, Erika,” Blomkvist said.
“Hi. I’m so sorry. I apologise a thousand times for barging in like this. I should have
knocked.”