And who wanted a husband like that? Gunilla had already dealt with her own shared misery but had fortunately still not given up all hope in him. They had far too much in common, too many memories that would always be theirs, no matter how this turned out. That was why she was sticking it out—he had known that for a long time.

His shoes squelched and he could feel the water penetrating through the stitching, but he didn’t care. Instead, he remembered how Gunilla had looked at him on that terrible January afternoon in 2014 when he had come home unhappy and anxious. She knew him and could tell how he was feeling. The days had passed and she had become happier, keeping pace with him becoming happier. Until that newspaper article had been published about the man who had died in the awful single-vehicle accident. Jan hadn’t quite been able to conceal his reaction when he had read it, and Gunilla had probably guessed what was going on in his head. But had she held him accountable? No. She had most likely asked herself what he had been doing in such a remote place at such an odd time. A woman, obviously. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But there were no questions, no accusations. She respected and loved him for the man he was, despite his faults and shortcomings.

A few days later, she was just a few metres away from him in the kitchen when he had opened that letter. He had thought it looked like an invitation to a party, but quickly discovered that the contents were far from what he had expected. He had begun to sweat and sank onto a chair. It hadn’t passed her by, but she had returned to her household chores without comment. Jan had weighed up the situation and then withdrawn to the study where he had examined the photographs with a magnifying glass. This had led to an underdeveloped idea about who had witnessed the accident and was now blackmailing him for money. When dinner was ready, Gunilla had appeared in the study. She had obviously been aware that he wasn’t himself and had asked about the letter. Caught off guard, he had been unable to do anything but seek help in her eyes. That was what you did if you loved someone that much—you looked to each other for support and you got it.

A normal man in a normal relationship would have denied all knowledge of those pictures from the scene of the accident until he was blue in the face. He would have claimed they were faked or taken out of context. But not Jan. He had been candid with his wife.