At the bottom of everything.

Tuesday, when Bam was busy working in his office, I paced the spacious kitchen with the telephone grasped in my hand. The other held a cigarette; my 10th that morning. I chewed on the edge of my finger nails, smoked a little, and then chewed again. Over and over, up and down; I was a disaster.

I stopped at the window and looked out into the blanket of snow covering the back yard. Bam’s beloved dog bounced around after the birds and snapped at the falling flakes. Such a beautiful, innocent sight had a calming affect over me. The snow will do that to you if you take the time to let it.

I gazed down at the telephone. I had to bite the bullet, this was the day; D-day if you will. Carefully, and quicker than I would have liked, I pressed in the area code and then my family’s number.

As I listened to the dial tone I gnawed on my fingers and prayed for the Gods to cut me some slack.

“Hei?” My mother’s sweet and humble voice echoed in my ear.

I didn’t answer; I just listened to her calm breathing.

“Hei?!” she asked again.

Truth be told I was terrified. In my experience most terrified men run and that’s just what I did. Sharply I hit the ‘disconnect’ button and threw the phone onto the counter. One hand was placed on either side of the sink and I stared down into the white porcelain. Every fibre in my body hated me for hanging up, I had a change to end this and I ran. I was a pathetic excuse for a human life and I could well believe it.

“Willa you okay?”

I gazed up at Bam, standing in the kitchen door way with a coffee mug in one hand and a packet of Malboro in the other.

“Just dandy Bambam.” I snapped.

He sighed and approached me.

“I’m putting us on a coffee and we are fucking talking about this.”

“No. We’re not love.” I turned to leave but he roughly took hold of my elbow.

“Yes. We are.”

He pulled me away from the door, led me into the living room and pushed me onto the sofa. I crossed and put both feet up onto the coffee table.

“Don’t pout. It’s for your own good.” Bam scowled in typical April style before going to tend to the boiling kettle.

I was acting like a child, I’ll admit, but this was something I really had no intention of talking about and I was determined to stick to my guns. In the kitchen I could hear Bam making up two cups of coffee, the fridge opening and closing and finally the rustling of a packet. He appeared in the doorway moments later with a packet of potato chips in his mouth, accompanied by a bushel of apples.

“Here. Eat.” He said after all was removed from his mouth and the coffee was placed in front of it’s assigned drinker, “I know you like fruit so chow down.”

I remained where I was, as I was, with my arms folded and my head hanging down.

“I’m not hungry.”

Bam sighed, “Christ Willa. You’re like a fucking child! Do you wanna get this out of your system or not?”

“You think talking about it is going to get rid of it. I’ll talk to you, spill my heart and BANG it’s gone?”

“No, I’m not stupid, I know it’ll take more than that but talking about it can’t hurt. I’m not going to judge you or make fun of you or get sick of your ranting. It’s just not good to go on bottling it up.”

“You do it! Why can’t I?” I snapped.

He narrowed his eyes at me and set his coffee down gently on the table. I remained silent, knowing all too well that I had struck a nerve with the man.

“Yeah I bottle things up. But not around you or Ape. I think you know that by now.” He replied calmly.

I did know this. And yet I had just said the exact opposite. He acted differently around Ape and me than he did with his friends. It was a male pride thing, I knew that much, and yet here I was knocking it down. He had taken real caution to make sure his emotions were kept in check and I was laying a seed of doubt.

“I’m sorry if I want to seem like the ‘Jackass’ I’m renowned for being when I am in public and with my friends. But you have always seen my softer side and so has Ape.”

I nodded, “I know.”

“Then why won’t you talk to me? D-don’t you trust me?”

I crossed my legs and let my hands drop into my lap. There, I played with the loose threads on my jeans.

“Of course I do.” I whispered, “It’s just hard.”

“I know Willa, but we have the whole day and you can take as much time as you need. But, it has to be today. I can’t stand sitting in the side lines not knowing what to do. You think it’s just ripping you apart inside? Well, my heart is fucking in shreds man. J-Just one smile, a laugh, a genuinely cheerful gesture would help stitch it back together.”

I gazed up at him, shocked at his words.

“I thought I was the poet in this relationship Bambam?”

“You’re a romantic. I pick up on your cheesy lines and I can fire them back at you ten fold.”

“Cheesy, maybe, heartbreaking, definitely.” I whispered.

Admittedly my throat was beginning to burn with tears. I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Bam, especially not to this extent. And my friends back home, Linde, Gas, Burton, Mige; God, it stung.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“Happiness is a virtue.”

He cocked an eyebrow before swinging a sip of coffee.

“Big word Willa.” He said, gesturing in a downwards motion with one hand, “Dumb it down please.”

“Virtue? It’s only five letters.” I giggled, despite my self, “I’ve seen longer words in a children’s book.”

Bam smiled, “You read children’s books? Perv.”

I threw a cushion at him and he yelped before firing one back at me. I laughed at the mess he had made of his coffee, now all over his jeans, and I decided to settle down, wanting to drink mine and not wear it.

“See? That was fun.” Bam said as he stood by the fire to dry his pants.

“Is your heart feeling a little less torn?”

“Still a few stitches to go Willa, don’t jump to the ‘casting off’ just yet.”

I laughed, “That’s knitting.”

“Whatever.”