Chapter 18

My pink elephant took a long holiday. 

Three years to be precise. Alas its credit card ran out of money: it was evicted from its hotel: its plane ticket was about to expire or for whatever reason it had to come back, that bumbly pachyderm returned to my life. 

It also brought along his good friend, Mr. Bull in a China Shop. Maybe they’ve become pals over the holidays but were determined to destroy my precarious life balance.

 They took the shape of Lars’ father and son. Maybe Linnea was around too. 

It was Lars’ fault entirely. He opened Pandora’s box. 

After three years of living in peace, he had no better idea than to start all over again with that marriage mambo. I never asked for it; I didn’t want nor need it. Me? Being Mr. Berggren II? No way.

Lars had to screw it all with his control freak ways. My books were sitting in his library; I had no savings, a shitty writing career and one foot in the homeless shelter if he kicked me out. I was the one in need of reassurance, support, help, assistance; not he. 

Did Lars ask me for my hand? No, of course. 

He announced the upcoming wedding to the side of the family he was still in speaking terms; his father, son (maybe he got an e-mail) and executive board.