The Love We Had

The Love We Had, a novel

Chapter 1. I Love It When Things Are Normal

I came home at about the usual time. I came in, closed the door behind me. I listened, heard no sound, nothing. I called up the stairs.

"Hello!"

No answer. It was quiet in the house. An unfamiliar silence. I thought it was a bit strange. I took off my shoes and hung my jacket on the hook.

I see myself as an ordinary man. I dislike it when things get messy. Or to put it another way: I love it when things are in order.

Everyday life is where I prefer to be. I like to walk in the usual tracks. In the morning I leave the house every day just before seven. I always close the garden gate behind me. Then I walk down the same streets as always. Past the town hall, I turn right. I walk in through the same gate every day. Inside the factory I spend the eight hours I get paid to do my job in there. Then I return to my house. I walk through the same streets. I enter through the garden gate. Often someone has failed to close the gate so I close it properly. I walk to the front door, open the door, I enter.

Now, something was wrong. I noticed it already as I stood in the hallway. I kicked off my shoes. It was quiet. It almost always was quiet in the house. When she didn't have the radio on.

I climbed the stairs. I came up to the main floor. Immediately I saw that she was not there. Not in the kitchen, nor in the living room or the bathroom. I hurried up the attic. I opened the doors to both bedrooms. Empty!

One thought strikes me - don't know why: - What if she has disappeared?

Photo by Renns Art on UnsplashI walked through the rooms. I thought about it. - Maybe she was just out on an errand. But there was no message anywhere. She might go out to retrieve something she had forgotten. Or maybe she had traveled to her parents in the fjord, as she sometimes does. But then she always says it to me. I thought this was weird.

I went down again and into the kitchen. I looked around at the bench and the table. There was nothing that could give me a hint of where she was. I went down and looked in the closet. Her coat was hanging there. There were a few empty hangers there. She had probably put on a jacket and had gone out. But where? I tried to reason. She did not have any girlfriends that she used to go to during the day. Not that I know. It was only Berit, the classmate from high school. She had hardly gone to see her. Berit worked in a shop in the town centre. I had seen her down in the street today.

I decided to take a lap. Just walk down the downtown streets. Maybe I would meet someone. Maybe someone had seen her.

When I got home, she was still not there. I started to think about what could have happened.

- What have I done wrong, what is it now?

- What has happened to my wife? She is no longer here. Has she quit? Has she run away with a guy, or what?

I stood down by the wardrobe. I sorted on the hangers and outer garments. Thoughts ran off wildly. - While I was at work, she might have gone on the bus south. Maybe she had traveled up the mountain on a trip or something.

Or maybe she did something I didn't even dare to think about. I have heard stories about it. A woman a few years ago, she had just disappeared. Had been observed walking along the lake. She was never found later. Not. found, either in the river or in the sea. And right after the war, a girl had gone into the river. People had seen her from a distance, but no one could stop her.

That's a worst case. It is something that will be very difficult to live with. But it may just be that she has gone to visit a friend. Or she has traveled to the fjord to visit her parents, as she sometimes does.

Or maybe she escaped for good. Maybe traveled to Bergen and took a plane over to America. She once said she wanted to go there.

I dismissed the idea. It was almost a bit ridiculous to think that way. No one would want to travel to America, even if it were the land of dreams. It is a very strange thought. No one would ever leave children and husband and family like that overnight. And leave everything behind and just leave? No way!

«No, Eira, » I said half-loudly to myself, «you did not. »

"Have you talked to Mom?"

It was the guy from the top of the stairs. He had probably been standing there for quite some time. The girl was also there:

"You said mother's name! Is she here?"

I answered with the words I could possibly say. Said something vague about her coming soon enough.

I told the two of them that they could watch on TV. I had to go out again, there was nothing else to do. Had to go out again. Must clear the thoughts, find out.

I thought this was unreal. This was not like her.

I closed the gate carefully. I turned and looked down the street.

I imagined talking to her, inside, silently despairing.

«Don't you realize - this is so hard for me. To think about this - what is this? What is it that happens in our life? What have I done that is not good? - Have I done something to you that I should regret? »

I tried to think. Have I done something wrong to her? Something that makes her feel sorry? Is this why she wants to get rid of me? Or maybe she just wants to disappear.

I dare not think about it. It's so painful to think about. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do about it. I get totally lost.

The rest of the afternoon I was in the house. I walked from room to room. I waited. Waited for her to come. I thought she was perhaps safe, together with a girlfriend. She was safe on a trip. She was probably busy with something. It was certainly not dangerous.

But the hours went and she didn't come. It was at this point that I began to become uneasy.

«Something has happened to her.»

Could it be that she has gone astray. That she has gone up the mountain and cannot find the way back?

No, it's unlikely, I think. Soon the kids will become impatient. Then there will be questions for mom.

"When's Mom Coming?"

"Well, she sure will come soon."

I can't say that I don't know when Mom's coming. I can't answer that I don't know where she is. I answer that I do not know. During the evening there will be more questions without answers. They are going to get uneasy.

I decided to go out and look. I thought she might have gone over to the river. The river was big right now. Lots of water in the river, it was dangerous. Maybe she had been walking alongside. Maybe she had fallen out into the water.

As soon as I had thought this, I felt worse. I saw for myself that she had taken overbalance. I saw her falling out into the water.

I walked out onto the bridge. I stood in the middle over the water masses. I saw a woman walking by. I turned to her. I followed her with the gaze. She crossed the bridge and went onto land on the other side.

There was no one else to see. I began to walk towards the land on the other side. I stopped and went back to the middle of the bridge. I stood looking down into the running water. I thought: It's dangerous. I've heard stories about people who fell out here. They didn't have a chance. - Scaring!

I walked back towards the centre. I walked through the streets and up towards the house. I hoped with all my heart that she would be back home now. I hoped so much that this should be resolved.

If not - don't know. What do I do then? What is happening now, if not -?

I see for myself that I come home. The kids come running towards me and ask:

"Where's Mom?"

"I want Mommy to come."

"Where's Mom?" Asks the elder, and I don't know what to answer.

"I want to Mom," the little one says.

"Where's Mom?"

"No, I don't know."

I look at the kids. I watch the clock. I don't know what to do.

I decide to wait. I'll wait a little more. Then I call the police.

The clock approached midnight. I thought I had to call and alert. Maybe she was unlucky. Maybe she had fallen and settled on one of the nature trails around the town. Or maybe she had been assaulted by someone. Maybe something had happened to her.

I came home from the police station just before midnight. Of course, they didn't want me to go. Finally, they reluctantly let me go. But it happened only after I had said several times that the children were alone. I had to explain and reiterate that our children were alone and that it was not justifiable.

Before they let me go, they asked me more questions. Many of them were rather unnecessary. Many of the questions were about how our relationship was. He asked how we were doing. I thought it was a bit on the edge of the police officer. Why ask me such questions? He insisted all along that I had to be honest and tell the truth. He was much younger than me, had barely a thin beard on his chin. He was a mere youngster, probably just graduated from the police school. He was between ten and fifteen years younger than me. Alongside him to assist him, he had an even younger police lady. She was barely in her mid-20s. She did not say a single word during the whole interrogation. I could see that she was watching closely and noting every single word I said. He who spoke repeated that I had to be honest and tell the truth. He said this many times. I thought that then I had to do what he said, so I answered all his questions.

Some of the questions were a little odd. He asked if we had a problem in the relationship. I said:

«Why do you ask that?»

He said:

«Just routine questions.»

«Well, she has been a bit depressed some times,» I said.

«There have been a few times she has been crying. She has seemed completely out of her.»

I told the officer things like that. When I said what I said, he stopped in the interrogation, looked at me with a serious expression, and said:

"But then you must be kind to your wife, man! You must not make your woman cry.»

"But," I said, "but listen, you, I didn't do her a thing! Nothing wrong!" I said.

I felt upset. The police officer looked at me.

"Okay, well, then," he replied, flipping through his papers.

What I didn't get to say there and then, was that we had lost a new-born. It happened a few years back. That's where a lot of this started, as I feel.

The police officer sat still for a minute. He was flipping through the papers. He conferred with the assistant. I didn't say anything. He fluttered the paper on the table in front of him. Then he lifted his eyes and looked straight at me. He said my name, my first name. I was astonished. It was as if we had suddenly become confidant, close comrades:

"Yes, Lars, it is best that you go home for your kids now."

I walked through the downtown streets and up. I thought many strange thoughts. What was a common denominator, was that she had to come home now. She absolutely had to come home now. I needed to see her in the kitchen or inside the living room as usual.

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A note from the author:

The novel "The Love We Had" is made up of three parts, where the three main characters tell how they experienced what happened.

Part 1 The Longest Night, chapters 1-3, told by Lars

Part 2 The Light Inside, chapters 4-17, told by Aslak

Part 3 Save Our Secret Love, chapters 18-49, told by Eira

Next chapter:

Chapter 2. I Came Home as Usual

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Øivind H. Solheim is a novel author and a nature photographer from Norway who loves writing fiction, poetry, essays, and articles helping others understand life, other humans, and themselves. He has published six novels, two non-fiction books, and a poetry book.