How could we ever make a relationship work while living nine hours away from each other?
I’m a broken man. Thanks to my boyfriend’s psychiatrist uncle, however, I might finally get some much needed professional help to come to term with my past and my post-traumatic stress disorder. But it all feels hollow and empty without Geir—because he was the one who made life worth living.
We might as well live a world’s apart. He can only visit during holidays now that he lives in the capital, and I can’t face going to a big city. A year’s a long time. Can a tentative relationship such as ours survive that long apart?