Status: Live

Holding Hands Won't Be Enough

Chapter 35: Jameson

12:30 a.m.

The phrase seeing red wasn’t often one Ville would use to describe how he felt, but right now, it was extremely fitting. If he were asked to recount how he came to arrive in his room, four floors down, and how he came to be pacing round a large bottle of Jameson he was having a staring contest with, he would not be able to tell you. The rage that bubbled and broiled inside of him was staggering. Caring not in the least for smoking regulations, he lit one up and continued pacing; fuming… He grabbed the bottle by the neck and ripped the stopper out, his cigarette puckered between his lips. He raised the bottle to his face and snapped out of it. The very smell kicked him back to a startling realisation – this is exactly what got him into this position years ago; drinking out of anger, hatred and self-pity. He roared and hurled the bottle at the wall with every ounce of might he could muster and left his room, slamming the door behind him.

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Bam sat with his legs crossed under him in an arm chair tapping his knee with one hand and his forehead with the tips of his fingers on the other. He hated waiting to hear news; he hated it even more when it concerned his friends. For years he had known the love Ville carried in his soul for Milly and the disdain he had for Jonna; for years he heard the words of the songs as only those who knew would – lamenting, yearning, mourning; for her. He knew the secret he kept for Milly was a large burden to bare; not only for him, but for his friendship with Ville. He knew that Ville wouldn’t be angry, that he would be understanding and kind as he always was, but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t be hurt and that ate Bam up inside. Though he tried, he couldn’t possibly put himself in either of their positions, he just hoped that they would come out happier people the other side.

“What are you doing babe?” Missy asked, approaching him from the suite. She crouched before him and touched his knee reassuringly. “You okay?” he nodded and stopped his tapping, her presence calming him.

“I’m just worried that shit’ll go down..” he sighed, pulling off his hat and running his hand through his fabric-matted hair. “I love them both. I feel so shitty, like I’ve done the wrong thing in not telling Ville, and like I’m doing the wrong thing by Milly in thinking I’ve done the wrong thing by Ville.”

“Babe.. They’ll work it out. I can tell.”

“How can you possibly tell?” Bam scoffed, assuming her answer would be something to do with women’s intuition. She reached behind him for the coat that she’d hung over the back of chair and dipped her hand into the pocket.

“Milly leant me her coat- this, was in the pocket…” she smiled sweetly, holding up a Polaroid. Bam smiled, studying the picture of Ville and Milly cuddling Oscar in the middle – all smiling, snow drifting across their faces. It was lovely. Just like a portrait of an established, happy, normal family. “I can tell.”

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02:00 a.m.

Missy had long been in bed when light knocking came to their door. Bam jumped up immediately, moving with haste across the room to answer it, eager to know everything had gone well. He pulled open the door to find Ville, his face and hair weathered, clutching a black bag in his hands, about to burst into tears. “Dude?”

“I have a son.” He choked. Bam bit his top lip and nodded.

“I know.” He admitted, he wasn’t going to lie to his friend, not now.

“I caused her to hate me so much she couldn’t tell me we had a child, Bam. I mean, for fuck’s sake… That woman loved me so much and I tossed it away for nothing- less than nothing. I threw away being with her all these years, being a father to Oscar, for Jonna.”

“You weren’t to know, man... Give yourself a break.” Bam reasoned. “Milly could have told you at any point.” Ville shook his head.

“I didn’t deserve it.” He scoffed, “If I hadn’t of turned up at her house, I don’t think I’d ever have known. I tore apart our lives…” he entered the room and followed Bam out to the balcony where they both took a seat and lit cigarettes. Bam looked on as Ville’s hands trembled so much he had trouble igniting the lighter. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as angry in my whole fucking life as I was an hour ago. I went into this rage that I haven’t experienced since I was drinking…”

“With Milly?” Bam asked, worried as hell he’d done something bad. Ville shook his head fervently.

“God no. No.” he exclaimed, “I just walked straight past her, if I’d stayed in the room I would have- well, I just don’t know.” He saw Bam recoil, obviously having scared him with his words. He realised then he hadn’t told Bam at all about what has actually happened, so preceded to, his voice as shaky as his body, tears still welling in his throat. Bam was stumped for words, he couldn’t fathom it.

“Why the fuck did she track you down to tell you that?” he asked, stunned.

“She was looking for me in L.A, Seth told her about Oscar.”

“Why was she looking for you? She knows you’re in America working, who cares?” Ville swallowed, he hadn’t said this out loud to himself, let alone anybody else.

“I’ve been ignoring her calls since-“ Bam nodded, knowing he meant since they’d arrived at Milly’s, “When Milly was in hospital, she made me speak to her..” Ville exhaled heavily and shuffled position in his seat, “She told me she was pregnant and I haven’t been able to bring myself to speak to her since.” His voice finally breaking into a raspy, emotionally strained croak.

“Fuck…” Bam cursed, dropping his head into his hands.

“I just wanted Milly.. And I have her in my life again and she’s right here whenever I want to see her, or speak to her, or be near her. And I threw myself on the line and kissed her-“

“You guys fucked.” Bam interjected knowingly.

“And now I have a son and a pregnant fiancée who’s chased me across a country and ruined a moment that the notion of has no doubt haunted Milly since my son, my fucking son, was born.. She took that away from me, from Milly.. From my son.” He stopped to wipe his face and draw from his cigarette, “I love her Bam.” he shook his head, “What the fuck do I do Bam? What the fuck do I do?” he sniffed.

“You go to her and you start from scratch.” Ville nodded, “And that means telling her about Jonna.”
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