“I’ve been talking to Marta. I know the situation. I assume you do as well.”

He did. And it was suddenly, unbearably heavy how intimately he knew both the situation and Astrid.

She won’t stay. She promised her father. She can’t put that weight down.

Not even for me? Not even if I carry it for her?

He envisioned a giant scale. One pan held all the love he’d cultivated in three short weeks. On the other side was a lifetime. A father who died before amends could be made. Promises sworn. Unassuaged guilt and shame. Burdens that were hard enough to bear without someone else using them as weapons.

No matter how much weight Kennet took on, Liisa Virtanen had her finger on the scale and a different definition of “taking care.” It was her way or nothing.

She’ll make Astrid choose. It’s Liisa or me.

But aren’t I doing the same? It’s Liisa or me?

Do I even have that right?

That’s not love. It can’t be love.

Major said don’t tell secrets out of obligation. What is love but laying bare all your deepest secrets?

The scales tipped.

I’m going to lose her. She’s leaving. It’s over.

“I know you know I’m right,” Emil was saying. “And I know you’ll go to the station tomorrow and say goodbye like a gentleman. But you don’t have to feel good about it. It’s not easy doing the right thing when love is ripping your stomach open and making your teeth ache. It’s one of the worst parts of growing up.”

“Can’t believe people fall in love on purpose,” Kennet muttered.

“I’m sorry, Nyck.”

“Don’t call me Nyck. Please.”

The name belonged to Astrid now. Nobody else.

Emil got up, crushed his smoke beneath his shoe. “She’s a fine, lovely girl. I wish—”

“Paps, please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“All right. I don’t blame you.” His hand fell warm and strong on Kennet’s head, then his kiss brushed Kennet’s hair. “I don’t blame you one bit, gullgosse. And I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Now please go talk to your sister. Both of them. They’re convinced they’re entirely to blame for all of this. Trudy’s about to shave her head and dress in sackcloth to atone. Cripes, and I thought Major had a flair for the dramatic.”

She was ripped out of him so fast and so thoroughly, Kennet was surprised he wasn’t left with a gaping wound or a missing limb. Ten years he’d dreamed of her. He’d fallen in love in mere weeks.

She was gone in an afternoon.