Love in Theory and Practice: Chapters 1-13

Los Angeles, California.

I am now absolutely positive of what I suspected in Rome.

Even though Ville and I are always open with each other even if it leads to bickering or even full-fledged arguments, sometimes it’s hard to bring up big topics.

We’ve been fighting lately because I’ve been stressed with school and keeping up with the house and Ville. We’re still learning about each other and while that should scare me in a marriage, it doesn’t. But as our fighting and bickering increases, I’m learning things about both of us that make me uncomfortable. We each brought a lot of baggage with us into the relationship that is only now starting to show.

When I raise my voice, he instinctively shies away. And I instinctively want to kill the bitch that made him this way. I don’t know much about his past relationships aside from basic details, so Callie is filling me in on the gossip details about Jonna.

“Well she burst his eardrum.” She says casually over Toi. She’s already given me the low down on Jonna. I can’t honestly say I know anything about her other than what Callie’s dug up in tabloids.

“I know about that.” I say, playing with my food. The idea of Ville being afraid of me, whether he means to be or not, upsets me more than I can even describe.

“They had the police called on them once. I think he actually went to jail for the night or something.” She says, still casually. I know that she’s noticed my mood but she has chosen to ignore it in the hopes it’ll go away. When I’m angry, she just pretends nothing is wrong. I can usually pretend as well but today it just isn’t happening.

Halloween is tomorrow and she’s excited to dress up, she doesn’t want my sour mood to ruin her fun. She’s not selfish; it’s just how it usually works with us. When I’m grumpy and she’s happy, her happiness usually rubs off.

But I’ve been lackluster all day. Despite spa treatments, manicures and a hair cut, I’m still off. I’ve been back and forth with my moods ever since early September. And while I am almost certain of the reason why, I can’t bring myself to even say it out loud.

“I don’t think I want to hear anymore.” I say and push my plate away from me. Hearing about his life with her doesn’t help me but it doesn’t make it worse either. Every relationship is different and while some are inherently bad, sometimes it’s hard to tell.

Nils and I never had a loving relationship but at the same time, it worked. We fit together in a way that probably could have led to a good marriage. But there were always underlying aspects that we kept to ourselves. I see little ticks from being with Nils in my relationship with Ville and it makes me uncomfortable.

I’m not quick to believe him right of the bat when he says something nice. Or when he does something sweet, I have to remind myself that Ville is sincere even though Nils wasn’t.

“Well I’m just trying to explain why he’s probably a little bit afraid when you raise your voice. Although, you don’t really ever yell.” She says thoughtfully and pops a piece of broccoli in her mouth. “It’s not like you don’t have your peculiarities.” She says and points her fork at me.

I know what peculiarities she’s referring to but I’ve been trying my best to let them go from my life. With Nils I always had to watch what he was doing. He would shamelessly flirt with other women in front of me or he’d get so engrossed in something that he’d ignore every word that came out of my mouth for hours.

And I also had to watch what I was doing. He would criticize the way I was dressed, the style of my hair, and the tone of my voice. He had tried to groom me into his trophy wife and had ended up driving me away.

But with Ville, it’s different. When he speaks to another woman, I know it’s okay because there’s a tone of voice and a certain smile that I know are reserved for me. And when he’s caught up in what he’s doing, it’s easy to get him out of it and he’s never offended. Plus, he accepts me for my odd habits, my bad hairs days, and my, sometimes, sloppy behavior.

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with him and I’m not saying I’m perfect. I love him it just really hurts my feelings when he thinks I’m going to hit him.” I say and slump back in my chair. “I’ve never even raised my hand towards him.”

“It’s like a dog,” she begins and I raise my eyebrow. “It’s a learned behavior. He’ll either unlearn it or he’ll always be this way.”

“You’ve just compared my husband to a dog.” I say hollowly. She just smiles, shrugs, and picks a piece of pumpkin off my plate.

“What are you going to dress up as tomorrow?” she asks, further shutting down the subject of men and their issues.

“I don’t know. I have a few random things in my closet. I’ll probably just grab something.” I say and shrug.

Ville and I have been staying in my house in LA for a few weeks now. We came around the 13th for Callie’s birthday and we’re planning on staying through early November before heading home. The guys are working on a remix album for Screamworks so they’ve been here and there working with different people. And I needed some sunny weather.

“You should be a pea pod, or a big chubby pumpkin.” She says with a wicked smile but I’m so engrossed in turning my wedding ring around on my finger that I don’t see it.

“Why do you want me to dress up as a vegetable?” I ask without looking up. “I’ll probably just go as Peter Pan again.”

“You know, a pea in a pod…or a nice round pumpkin.” She says. I look up quickly and meet her gaze. She’s about to bubble over with excitement, she’s just waiting for my confirmation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say, grumpily. Even though I didn’t notice, my hand instinctively went to rest upon my tummy.

“You’re such a bad liar.” She says. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

After boxing up my leftovers for either Ville or myself, we head out of the restaurant and make our way to a few of our favorite LA locations. We stop in at Venice Beach, High Voltage Tattoo (just to say hello, not for new tattoos), and the Getty Museum.

While standing in front of a photograph of a mother and her child, I once again, subconsciously place my hand on my belly. Callie comes up and swings her arm around my shoulders.

“I won’t tell him, or anyone for that matter but I have to know why you’re not telling him.” She whispers.

“I’m scared.” I whisper back; I haven’t taken my eyes off the photograph. “I don’t want him to have to go through what I went through before. And I don’t want to go through it again so I’m ignoring it for now.”

“I understand where you’re coming from but I don’t think he will. I think he’d want to share whatever happens with you.” She says before walking away.

I look down at my belly. There is no outward sign of what’s going on inside me. No tell tale bump, no flashing sign on my forehead displaying my current status. There’s just the turmoil I feel while floating between pure joy and pure terror.

When I arrive back at the house later that evening, Ville is stretched out on the sofa in the sunroom reading a book. His feet are up on the armrest while his head rests on the opposite one. I suddenly realize just how tiny my little sofa really is.

He puts the book down and smiles at me. His eyes are happy and his skin is tan both from Italy a month or so ago and from the LA sun. He makes room for me beside him and allows me to snuggle into the space between his arm and his chest.

The guilt for keeping my secret is overwhelming but I still can’t bring myself to utter 3 little words. But I can’t say them. I can still remember the look on his face when I told him about the last one.

Complete misery. I could see the sadness all the way through his eyes and into him. I could read it in his every gesture, every move. I know that now, I would die to see him like that again.

“Is everything alright?” he asks quietly. I didn’t know it until now but I’d wanted to hear his voice all day. I take a deep breath and snuggle as closely as I can.

“Yes,” I say into his t-shirt. I love the way he smells. It’s changed since he quit smoking but I would still be able to recognize it anywhere.

“Okay then,” he says with a chuckle that means he doesn’t believe me. He reopens the book and begins to read aloud.

When we’re here in LA, our reading selection is greatly diminished in comparison to the selection in Helsinki. He’s reading The Great Gatsby.

While he reads, I allow my mind to go blank. I allow my body to relax. I know I’ll probably fall asleep but I think about the process that’s going on inside me and I think it would be okay to divert all my energy there. Maybe it’ll help.