Festive Fling with the Single Dad

He chuckled. ‘So you just hold an exercise class?’

‘No, I hold one-to-one consultations as well. I have a lady with a frozen shoulder and one who’s recovering from a fractured wrist at the moment. And I also hold sessions for family members during the evenings and at weekends to show them how to assist their elderly relatives and help keep them as active as possible. Just a little of the right exercise makes a huge difference.’

‘It sounds like a good place.’ He manoeuvred into the drive-through entrance of the canine therapy centre and retrieved Dougal’s lead from the back seat. ‘I’m almost tempted to book myself in for a couple of weeks.’

‘You don’t strike me as the kind of person who likes a quiet life.’

Aksel shot her a sideways glance, the corners of his mouth quirking down for a moment. ‘I’m leaving what I used to be behind. Remember?’

He got out of the car, opening the tailgate and lifting Dougal out, leading him towards the glass sided entrance. Dougal bounded up to the young man at the reception desk, and Aksel gave him a smiling wave. Flora wondered exactly who he was trying to fool. Everything about Aksel suggested movement, the irresistible urge to go from A to B.

‘So you’re not convinced that Mette will benefit from sharing your experiences?’ By the time he’d returned to the car, Flora had phrased the question in her head already so that it didn’t sound too confronting.

He chuckled. ‘Spare me the tact, Flora. Say what’s on your mind.’

‘All right. I think you’re selling yourself short. And Mette.’

He started the car again. ‘It’s one thing to take her on pretend expeditions. But I have to change, I can’t leave her behind and travel for months at a time.’

‘No, of course you can’t. But that doesn’t mean that have to give up who you are. You can be an explorer who stays home...’

‘That’s a lot harder than it sounds.’

She could hear the anger in his voice. The loss.

‘Is losing yourself really going to help Mette?’

‘I don’t know. All I know is that who I used to be kept me apart from her for five years. I can’t forgive myself for that, and I don’t want to be that person any more.’

His lips were set in a hard line and his tone reeked of finality. There was no point in arguing, and maybe she shouldn’t be getting so involved with his feelings. She sat back in her seat, watching the reflection of the castle disappear behind them in the rear-view mirror.

* * *

It wasn’t fair, but Aksel couldn’t help being angry. Flora had no right to constantly question his decisions, Mette wasn’t her child. If she’d been faced with the same choice that he had, she’d understand.

But he couldn’t hold onto his anger for very long, because he suspected that Flora did understand. She’d seen his guilt and feeling of inadequacy when faced with the task of bringing up a child. She saw that he loved Mette, too, and that he would do whatever it took to make her happy. And she saw that even though he was ashamed to admit it, he still sometimes regretted the loss of his old life.

In that old life, the one he’d firmly turned his back on, he would have loved the way that she understood him so well. He would have nurtured the connection, and if it led to something more he would have welcomed it. But now, even the thought of that made him feel as if he was betraying Mette. The anger that he directed at Flora should really be directed at himself.

By the time they drew up outside the modern two-storey building, nestling amongst landscaped gardens, he’d found the ability to smile again. It wasn’t difficult when he looked at Flora. She got out of the car, shouldering her heavy bag before he had a chance to take it from her.

‘The exercise does me good.’ She grinned at him.

‘All that weight on one shoulder?’ He gave her a look of mock reproach. ‘If I were a physiotherapist, I’m sure that I’d have something to say about that.’

She tossed her head. ‘Just as well you’re not, then. Leave the musculoskeletal issues to me, and I won’t give Kari any commands.’

‘She won’t listen to you anyway, she understands Norwegian.’

‘If you’re going to be like that...’ Flora wrinkled her nose in Aksel’s direction, and then directed her attention to Kari. ‘Kari, gi labb.’

Her pronunciation left a bit to be desired, but Kari got the message. She held out her paw and Flora took it, grimacing a little at the weight of the bag as she bent over. As she patted Kari’s head, Aksel caught the strap of the bag, taking it from her.

‘If you’re going to speak Norwegian to my dog, then all bets are off.’ He slung the bag over his shoulder, feeling a stab of pain as he did so. He ignored it, hoping that Flora hadn’t noticed.

Inside the building, a woman at a large reception desk greeted Flora, and they signed the visitors’ book.

‘Here’s your list for today. Mr King says that he has a crawling pain in his leg.’