Free hugs, anyone?

***

March 8

Maddy BFF: Happy Women's Day, Eva! 🤗

Eva <3: Thanks, Mads! Same to you too.

Maddy BFF: Wish u were here. We would so rock the town 2nite.

Eva <3: Or better yet, hire a limo around the Gold Coast and guzzle up some Moët. 😉

Maddy BFF: I've got a surpriz!

Eva <3: A surprise?

Maddy BFF: You've got a bank holiday and a short break in May, right?

Eva <3: Yeah... ???

Maddy BFF: Little Britain, here I come! ✈️

Eva <3: U serious?

Maddy BFF: Sure am, hon. We're rockin' London together! 🇬🇧

Eva <3: OMFG, no way!

Maddy BFF: Yes way!

May 4

True to her word, Maddy came to London to spend time with her long-lost soul sister (yeah, me) who was close to the finishing line with her MBA.

"Wow, tiny place" Maddy stated the obvious, when she walked into my room.

"I won't be here long," I nonchalantly responded.

"Is that a kiddie mattress?" Maddy wrinkled her nose at the sight of her tiny makeshift floor bed shoved next to mine.

"Yeah, you'll survive. Look at it as a trendy futon. It's the latest craze" I shrugged my shoulders and closed the door.

"It's so good to see your face." Maddy plonked herself down on my bed and grinned.

"I'm so glad to see you too. Mads, do you know that I'm this close to finishing grad school?" I pinched a snippet of excitement from the air with my thumb and forefinger, enthusiastically grinning like a model in a 1950s print ad.

"Cool bananas! Way to go, girl! How's life tutoring undergrads?" she asked.

"It's a part-time job that generates a bit of income." I rolled my shoulders and stretched my lazy arms.

"How is Eva behind the wall? Have you turned into the Night King yet? Should I have brought my obsidian spear?"

I cracked up at Maddy's Game of Thrones reference.

"I'm fine, Arya Stark." I sat next to her, smiled, and looked up to the ceiling.

"Really? Even without Sven?" Maddy quizzically stared at me.

"I can function without a dick for a few months." My blunt answers were reserved for people who asked absurd questions—even my dearest friends.

"Yeah, but surely he could squeeze in a visit. I mean, he's not too far away," Maddy refuted.

"He's leading a systems integration project for a client in Switzerland, so he's been commuting between Oslo and Zurich for the past few months," I replied.

"Oh, I saw a photo of him and his boss in a recent LinkedIn post. She's attractive. I hate to say it, but I wouldn't be surprised if there's some funny business between the two," Maddy over-analyzed.

"Maddy, there is no proof that Sven is hanky-pankying with his boss. I trust him," I defended my fiance.

"I'm just saying... He did kiss another woman before and he's red hot chili gorgeous. He's lonely, and he's eager to get a hefty bonus, given the opportunity, if you know what I mean. His boss seems like the kind of Andro-woman who would pounce on him, given the chance—"

"Drop it like a hot potato, Mads!" I got up and opened the window for some fresh air.

I stared outside for about a minute, in silence, when I felt Maddy tap my shoulder.

"Look, hon. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a party pooper. I just care for you." Maddy's intentions were genuine. Her eyes told me so.

"I know you care and I love you like my second sister. Sven's not the only one who's busy these days. I'm waist-deep with MBA assignments, presentations, and exams. Remember, eyes on the prize," I stated.

"Ha ha, that's so you, Eva! You've got quite a competitive spirit. Hugs?" Maddy stretched her arms out.

"Hugs!" I squeezed her tight, feeling glad that she was actually there with me.

I really missed her.

***

Going out with Maddy was a blast, but it usually came with a condition. Our trip to Hyde Park involved a task: we would campaign for free hugs.

There I was, advertising myself for hugs at Speakers' Corner on a warm spring day. I was an ass-whipped card soldier who did my bidding for Maddy, Wonderland's new queen of hearts.

I really didn't like hugs—I'm not a touchy-feely person and my best friend knew that all too well. However, I was too far down the rabbit hole to do anything about it.

Maddy stood by me, parrot-shouting at people to get their free hug. She may as well have been screaming, "off with her head!" She lasted for five minutes before venturing off to find the nearest cafe to get some coffee.

"Cop out," I called out at Maddy, who stuck two thumbs up and did a ditch-and-run for a refreshment.

After a minute of standing alone, I noticed a pregnant woman gravitating toward me, clearly by persuasive force. Her partner, a gorgeous guy who could have stepped out of an Armani ad, pulled her in my direction.

She looked like she was about to give birth to triplets. No wonder she looked glum.

"Oh, no! Don't you dare, Jake!" Ms. Glum tried to resist, as Mr. Armani steered her to me.

Did I smell bad? I sniffed my armpits to double-check. Nope, she's all good, mate.

"C'mon, Missy, I think you need a free hug," Jake encouraged the poor woman, who wore a floral maxi dress that emphasized her baby bump.

"Free hug?" I squawked like an overgrown scrub turkey, shaking the cardboard up and down as if it was salt and pepper.

Missy giggled at me and walked up close. I placed the cardboard down, patted her shoulders, and gave her a light hug, wishing her a good day.

"Now it's your turn, Jakey," Missy purred at her beau.

"Sure, everyone needs a hug, right?" Jakey winked at Missy, then hugged me.

I'm all into Sven, but hot diggity dang, Jakey was eye candy, and I was no blind mouse.

"So what brings you here to offer free hugs today?" Jakey asked.

"My friend roped me into it because I'm allergic to hugs," I admitted, as Missy released a soft laugh.

"My name's Eva. Eva King." I reached out and shook Missy's hand, then Jakey's hand.

"I'm Jacob Somersby and this is my wife, Lydia." Jacob wrapped his arms around his beautiful wife.

When I mean beautiful, wow, this woman was a rose among flowers. She had long, thick, jet-black hair—which I would kill for, amber eyes, and a slight upturn at the tip of her cute nose.

No wonder her hubby dearest couldn't take his eyes off her. I noticed his blue eyes had a violet hue, like Hollywood legend Elizabeth Taylor's violet eyes. Interesting, I thought.

"Jake calls me Missy though," Lydia explained.

"Where are you from? You've got quite an accent there," Jake queried.

"I'm Australian," I replied.

"Ah, I thought so," he remarked.

"Lydia, from your accent, I take it that you're also far from home," I commented, guessing she was either American or Canadian. I was hopeless with accents.

"Yes, but Jake's mom will visit us when the baby is born, so I'll have company," she replied, rubbing her swollen belly.

"I'm leaving London soon to join my fiance in Norway. He's Norwegian, like a Viking." I jokingly mock-growled to break the thin ice that comes with meeting strangers.

"So you're in a long-distance relationship?" Lydia asked. Her innocent doe-eyes peered at me.

"Yep," I answered.

"Oh, we did that before Jake and I got married," Lydia said.

"Oh?"

"You know what? We pulled through, and here we are," she concluded, clasping her hand into his.

"I admire you both," I complimented.

"Thanks," the Somersbys blurted in unison.

"It was lovely meeting you, but I've got a friend who was supposed to be back soon. I think I'm going to look for her," I explained.

"Look, I can take your sign and stand here with it, while you try to find her," Jake offered.

"Sure, that would be great. I'll try calling her too." I handed Jake the cardboard sign and grinned at Lydia, who reciprocated with a warm smile.

As I walked away, Jake whipped off his shirt and shook the sign up, while Lydia blushed.

Okay, this guy had a swimmer's body with six-pack abs, so I stole a quick peek before turning away. Other people who walked by did the same thing, therefore I wasn't alone.

It dawned on me that Jake was teasing Lydia, wanting to brighten her day. He reminded me of a male peacock, displaying his intensely colorful feathers to get his lover's attention.

I found it fascinating watching other couples express their love, in spite of their differences. Jake was a social extrovert, while Lydia was a shy introvert. Despite their contrasting personalities, they certainly had chemistry and a lover's language that was unspoken.

Sven and I also had this invisible connection. It was as if our souls spoke to each other for a thousand years before their energies were fused with our bodies as they were formed.

I walked around the area, looking for the nearest cafe, and spotted Maddy with a cup of coffee in her hand, chatting with some guy.

I was going to miss this fruitloop friend and the surprises she brought with her.

Two days after my final exam.

"What do you mean you don't accept foreign marriage certificates? I am telling you that the certificate will be in ENGLISH. E.N.G.L.I.S.H!" I explained on the phone to the Australian embassy officer who fed me a pack of lies that contradicted the website's instructions on filing a change of name form for my passport.

Fucking Mickey Mouse officer, I thought, as the condescending idiot continued to scold me that the embassy would not accept Norwegian marriage certificates.

After Sven told me that the Oslo courthouse wedding date was scheduled for July (and not June as we had hoped), I considered adding my soon-to-be new surname on my passport post-marriage. However, I would also retain my current names, so that my passport would show: Eva Juliette King Hansen.

The embassy website's information on the requirements was vague, so I called passport enquiries to receive further clarification.

"So, are you telling me I have to marry again in Australia for a marriage certificate that you would approve?" I asked.

"That's correct," the officer replied.

I had just been licked by the flames of fury.

"Who's going to pay for the airplane tickets? Would you like me to send you the bill?" I huffed.

After the phone call, I was seething. If I was a cartoon character, I would be Skeletor, from He-Man: Masters of the Universe, and steam would be blowing out of my skull.

I remembered the officer's name: Brenda Morris.

Okay, what next? C'mon, Eva, think!

Hmm...

If you're ever in trouble, you can call me.

Ben Adams! Of course!

I searched for Ben's contact on my phone and tapped his name when it came up on the screen.

"Hello, Ben?"

"Eva? Do you have any idea what time it is here?"

"I'm really sorry, but I need a favor from you," I pleaded him. Just as he pleaded me when his washing machine broke.

I'm kind of desperate here. I've got a work function tomorrow evening and I have these pants that need washing.

I remembered Ben's words in April.

"Ben, I'm asking this once," I continued.

"Fine, what do you need?" Ben yawned.

"I need your new boss to reach out to the Australian ambassador here. You've got my email address, right?" I began.

After spending the next five minutes explaining to Ben my dilemma, my problems were resolved.

One day later, I received a personal email from Brenda Morris profusely apologizing for misinforming me about change of name requirements for passports.

A marriage certificate in English from the Norwegian authorities was sufficient for a change of name on my passport.

***

June 21, D-Day.

"Sven, pick up your phone and answer your messages, please," I stressed in frustration, as I held my iPhone to my ear.

I stood at London Victoria Station with my luggage, waiting for the Gatwick Express train to arrive on platform fourteen.

The London weather was miserably sad, as the clouds rolled in and showered the city with melancholic rain.

This was the day my life would begin in the land of the Vikings. In about five hours, I would arrive at Oslo airport and I had no idea if my missing Norse god would even be there.

I couldn't get through to Sven for the past few days, and all I heard was his voicemail every time I called. He had been offline his social media and was literally M.I.A. Missing in action.

You know what's worse? There was not one single message from him.

What I really wanted was Sven's I Just Called to Say I Love You. Just one phone call would mean the world to me.

What the fuck, Sven? Are you still alive? I tried ringing him for the millionth time.

"C'mon, pick up the phone," I muttered, after the last dial tone faded out.

Babe, I tried to call you. Can you talk later? I texted him.

A few hours later, as I took my seat on the plane, I still heard nothing from him.

Regardless, I was hopping onboard Norwegian Air, and when I find my missing Viking, I was going to demand answers.

Something was up, and I wasn't sure what it was.

Maybe Maddy was right.

I mean, what if he had changed into vampire?

Or worse...a werewolf?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the most amazing writers I have ever met, who supported me with Keepsake of My Love (my first book) and Love Fool. I feel truly grateful. I thought I'd surprise you with a little visit from Jake and Lydia, set after they moved to London. 😀

DariaLamtsova
PSPhoebe123
HRKhani
neurotick
GayatriRamchandran
DannBritts
tanellia
⭐️ Readers, these authors are seriously talented; they're pros on writing.

I've got a question for everyone: if you've written something on Wattpad, what did it feel like to tap the publish button for the first time? If you haven't written anything yet, would you consider writing a story on Wattpad?

Eva and Sven are already giving me a headache for what they're about to do in the next chapter. 😖😖😖 🤦‍♀️ Oh boy!