This is a new chapter of Attraction, enjoy. xo

The woman seated behind her desk tapped a pen against the pile of forms, disturbing the pressing silence. She eyed us over her slim glasses.

"Mr Carlsson, you were here on a tourist visa. Did you travel here with the intent to marry?"

I remembered Lara's insistence that we should be as honest as possible. "I never intended to marry."

She flinched, studying me for a moment before she typed something on the paper in front. Her stark appearance only helped to make me nervous. "Yet, here you are, married less than four months ago."

I leaned into Tom's side, glancing at my husband beneath my lashes. "Tom happened."

"And how did the two of you meet?" she asked.

"I saw him across the dancefloor at a club I used to visit." I couldn't exactly tell her I'd worked there illegally.

"Which club?"

"Tempest."

"Do you frequent this club often, Mr Carson?" she asked, probing Tom for details.

"Not regularly. I was working that evening, making sure that Joah's friend, Chris, came back safely that night."

"So, you had a common connection?" She eyed me.

"Yes. Chris Sinclair. I took full advantage of that when I began to flirt with Tom."

"I see," she said, writing again.

My heart was beating precariously loud. I had no doubt she could sense my nervousness.

"And when was your first date?"

"I tagged along to a charity dinner, prepared with a playlist to give Tom as a thank you gift for driving me home as well that night after the club. I got Chris to invite me to the dinner and I sat there for ages, waiting and waiting until Tom wanted to talk to me." I smiled at Tom again, remembering how reluctant he'd been that night, but also how he'd taken care of me at the end. That wasn't a lie.

"He was pretty resistant to my first attempts. I think he thought I was too young or something. But it turns out he couldn't resist me." I was still looking at Tom rather than her.

"Mr Carson, why don't you describe your first date? I'm not sure it sounds much like a date."

Tom leaned back, seemingly at ease. "I'm not sure that was our first date. I think we had our first date the next morning when we went to get breakfast at a café close to my apartment." A lie, but a believable one. The timeline was simply a bit off.

"Am I to understand that you went home together after this charity dinner?"

"Oh, yes," I replied. It was almost easy to believe that it had truly happened.

A small smile teased the corner of her lips.

"When was your second date?"

"Does it still count as the first date if we went out the following evening, or is that the second?" I blinked at Tom. "You drove me back to my place so I could get some clothes, but I don't think we actually spent any significant time apart." I was mixing days, but she didn't need to know that.

She shook her head, maybe amused. "Why don't you describe that day, Mr Carlsson."

I didn't hesitate. "After breakfast, we went to the park. We found that we had quite a lot of things in common. It was kind of weird actually. I'm not usually that open, but with Tom it felt like I had nothing to lose. I told him about what happened to my family, and I never tell people about them right away."

Tom placed his arm around my shoulders, giving my temple a sweet kiss. "I told him about my family as well."

She nodded. "Why don't you tell me about Mr Carson's family?" The question was directed at me.

"Tom reconciled with his family after our wedding. We visited Virginia after I...I suggested that he could give both himself and them another chance. Before the wedding, I only knew what had happened and why they weren't on speaking terms."

"And what about Mr Carlsson's family?" she asked Tom.

"As Joah said, he told me about them during that walk in the park. His parents and sister died in Thailand 2004."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Her smile held a surprising amount of compassion. It was almost possible to like her until she asked the next question. "Mr Carson, what were their names?"

Tom gazed at me, stroked my back. "It's one of the few things you haven't told me."

A rush of cold circled my chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Please Mrs Bates, Joah has lived through a horrible trauma, losing his entire family when he was twelve years old. Right in front of his eyes. I've never wanted to push for more information. I do know that he grew up with is aunt Helena and her two daughters."

"I admit that it is a special situation." She checked the time on her wrist watch. "We don't have a lot of time, I'm afraid. Why don't you tell me about the wedding, Mr Carson."

I was eternally grateful that she hadn't asked me to answer.

"We had a quiet outdoor wedding with some of our friends in attendance. It was a beautiful day." Tom squeezed my hand beneath the desk. "I remember how nervous you were. But you were stunning in that light gray suit. Your eyes looked startlingly blue together with that purple bowtie. We had a kind officiant who gave us advice for the future. Dante played the violin, and your lips tasted of citrus. I don't know why."

"I'd chewed gum," I replied. He'd never told me this. His words brought me back in time. "And yes, I was nervous because I couldn't believe you wanted to marry me. That it was all happening. It felt surreal."

She continued to ask us questions. We stole snippets from moments we'd shared when we'd already been married and pretended they'd happened earlier. The longer we talked, the more she allowed us to simply continue without interruptions. When we'd been grilled for at least half an hour, she collected her papers.

She appeared to want to roll her eyes. "You two are ridiculously in love. But we will be in touch regarding your status, Mr Carlsson."

"Oh, sure." I hoped that was a good sign. She didn't sound too unhappy at least. "Thank you."

* * * *

We were back in the car, waiting for a chance to leave the parking lot. The traffic was hysterical.

"We need to get some milk."

Tom's chuckles filled the air. "You and your obsession with milk."

"It's a Swedish thing. Come on, it's healthy. It's standard back home. Kids drink milk all the time. Not sodas like they do here. You tell me if that's healthier."

"You're not a kid."

"Maybe not, but we still need milk." What served as milk here tasted nothing like it did back in Sweden, but I'd grown used to it.

"Anything else?"

"Well what do you want for dinner?" I asked.

"You."

"You can't have me unless we buy milk first."

"You drive a tough bargain." His smiles were lovely. Always. Even when he teased and prodded.

"I think we should get tacos."

"You mean the Swedish kind?"

Tom hadn't been impressed with the Swedish take on Mexican food, to which I'd told him there were worse examples. A friend of mine had stuffed her enchiladas with banana for topping.

"I'll make dinner if I get to decide," I replied.

Tom finally found a gap between two passing cars that were wide enough to claim. "No, I want to make you dinner."

"I'll do the dishes then." I excelled in that particular area. Besides, Tom was the better chef in the household. If he wanted to make me food, I wasn't about to complain. I had tried to introduce some Swedish specialties from time to time just to keep memories alive, but so far he wasn't convinced.

Tom focused on driving for a while, or at least that was what his silence implied. I should have known better.

"Are we going to talk about the interview?"

"You mean about my family?"

"Yes."

"Not today." I'd had enough stress to cope with during the interview.

"But you called your aunt the other day, didn't you?" Tom hit the brakes, close to dent the bumper on the car in front.

I adjusted the seatbelt and thought back on the conversation. I'd meant to tell Tom about it, but hadn't found the right moment. Until now. He deserved to know.

"I've been thinking a lot since we met your family. I know that was some months ago now, but I needed time to convince myself to not be such a chicken shit."

Tom only hummed in response, allowing me to continue undisturbed.

"I thought about how you'd left your family, and how I've always claimed that I simply left a city—that my family had already left me. I realized that wasn't entirely fair. Helena took me in and struggled to keep the four of us afloat with a single income. I was mourning, but so was she."

I paused, wincing because it was painful to continue. I'd treated Helena like shit, and I wasn't proud of it.

"So you called..." Tom nudged me to continue.

"I called. I apologized."

He turned the steering wheel, slowly making his way around a corner. I finally recognized where we were. The apartment wasn't far.

"I feel guilty for not appreciating her enough. I was a really difficult teenager, and I don't think I've ever even thanked her for taking me in. She raised me, and I've been ungrateful from the start."

"Don't you think she understood? You went through a lot, after all, more than anyone should have to deal with."

"I never talked to her about it, so I don't know what she knew. I kept it all inside and pretended that it was fine. It was easier that way."

"Well, you don't have to pretend with me. I'd rather you not, actually."

I smiled, remembering that time when he'd reproached me for not showing who I really was. He'd seen through my act from the start. "I know. But, you should know that I'm pretty excitable sometimes, and it's not an act."

He laughed. He truly laughed. "Yes, sometimes it's not an act. Sometimes you're simply silly for no reason."

I slapped his shoulder. "You're mean." I didn't sound very angry, though, and Tom just smiled in response.

"We visited my family. Maybe we should visit yours."

"In Sweden?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know if I'm ready." I hadn't even realized how true that was before I'd voiced the words. I'd come here, looking for another life—a life away from memories and emptiness. Somehow, I'd found what I'd been searching for. Family. A true sense of belonging.

I clasped Tom's hand where it rested on the gear stick. "Someday."

"We're not in a rush," he replied.

We're not in a rush. The words tumbled around in my mind, and perhaps for the first time, I felt the weight of them. Everything between us had been rushed from the start, but here we were, building something solid together as time passed.

"Are you working tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes, Lara and Dante are going to some sort of social gathering. An anniversary, I believe."

"Dante agreed to that?"

Tom smiled. "It was his idea."

"Good." After the argument between them, things had changed for the better. It had taken time, but I had a new appreciation for allowing certain things to resolve naturally. People needed time to contemplate.

Tom stopped the car and cut the engine. I'd been thinking so hard that I hadn't realized where we were.

"You wanted milk?" That half smile would drive anyone insane.

"Yes, let's go and be domestic as fuck. Grocery shopping, then dinner, a movie and some lovin'."

Tom grinned, tugged at my shirt and urged me to get close enough for a kiss. "I like the sound of that."

A/N So, just a heads up that this was the last chapter before the epilogue :)