Ingvild took an early taxi home, Yngve stayed and it was painful to see that he didn’t appreciate her more, that he was happy to see her go. If it had been me I would have flung my arms around her. I had worshipped her. I had given her everything I had. Yngve didn’t do that. Did he care about her at all? He must. But he was older, more experienced, a different light burned in him than my stupid naïve one. And what I also saw was that he gave Ingvild space, a larger space than she occupied, which I couldn’t have done, never in this world, because we were in the same space, she and I, the space
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