Just for Tonight

48.

The strict confinement faded and the world seemed to breathe again. Small shops reopened their doors, and the quiet murmur of life resumed in the towns and cities. 

The Finns, known for their resilience and love of nature, had overcome the restrictions with quiet determination. Life had not been completely interrupted, but there was now a collective sense of relief, a subtle, unspoken recognition that the worst was behind them.

To Migé and Chloe's surprise, Ville decided to return home. He had songs in his head and on paper, and wanted to take advantage of this global break to work in the solitude of his studio.

If Chloe was disappointed, she didn't show it. She and Ville now communicated mainly through e-mails and messages, writing being, for both of them, a good means of expression.

For her, she needed to get back to her own life. A job and a place to live was her mantra.

Restaurant after restaurant reopened. While going to the grocery store for Migé and herself, she found a job offer in a restaurant not far from Migé's as a waitress. She applied and got the job.

One evening after closure, while she was cleaning the dining room, she saw Ville's silhouette behind the window.

She finished quickly and closed the front door as he waited for her.

"When Migé told me you worked here... in this restaurant .... I thought he was making fun of me". He looked at her, serious.

"I need to work, to feel useful...", she began.

"Chlo ... you're a journalist!", he exclaimed.

"But this job brings me joy, Ville. I like it! And you know that journalism is over for me."

He raised his eyebrows.

"You deserve... so much better". He sighed.

"Ville, I'm trying to get my foot back in life. After the thing with Raf, after the pandemic... I need this. I need money. I need a home", she replied, raising her voice.

"Oh, sorry to worry about you!", he replied in the same tone.

They looked at each other. Suddenly, she laughed out loud. He looked at her, puzzled, but her laughter was contagious and he laughed back.

When they caught their breath, she smiled and said : "That's refreshing. No more politeness to hide our discomfort when we are together. We can talk freely again".

He smiled back.

"Come live with me, Chlo. I have enough rooms". It had come out of his mouth, but the idea had been with him ever since he had returned home.

"Ville ...". She gently placed her hand on his arm.

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I miss you." He looked straight ahead.

"I miss you too. But I have to get there on my own. Without anyone's help."

"Chlo ... I offered because of ... you know ... three little words". He blushed.

"I love you too, Ville. But we are not together anymore, or not yet. I confess I'm a little lost where we're concerned".

"There's something I'd like to share with you. Would you mind coming to my place for a few moments?", he asked almost shyly.

She nodded.

He took her straight to the studio part of his house.

She sat cross-legged on the floor, as she always did when she wanted to concentrate completely on the music.

He made her listen to three tracks he had recorded: Run away from the sun, Saturnine saturnalia and Salute the sanguine.

She remained silent as she listened, taking notes in her head.

Anxiously, he waited for her reaction.

"Ville ... it's ... so dark. Sad and hopeless. You sing of almost toxic love, poisoning the heart and soul. It's... beautiful and heartbreaking all at once. It's simply you in songs. Not HIM, but Ville, the man, in all his uncertainties and scars. The darkness in you, and the pain, with an increasingly complex choice of words. And the music lifts it all. It's ... wonderful".

" Maybe I can move on to a few more upbeat songs". He looked at her intently. "So, really, do you like it?"

"Yes, I really do. Even if it touches me directly in one place...", she added, pointing to her heart.

"Chlo ... how do you think I have spent the last four years? You've never asked me that...", he replied softly.

"I guess the answer is in those songs?", she half-smiled.

"I wrote some of those songs when we first broke up, around the time of Tears On Tape. A few phrases laid down here and there, which we didn't retain for the album. When you moved to London ... the rest came together. Do you remember one of the first questions you asked me in an interview? Should I write the lyrics first and then the music, or the other way around? I answered... It depends on my state of mind. When I'm sad, the words come first. And I've been sad, to put it mildly".

She endured his gaze.

"Will you ever forgive me?". She sighed.

"I can't... be with you, living with this fear that you will run away from me again. So I wonder... if we're friends ... you have no reason to run away...", he said softly.

"Friends?". She frowned.

"What do you think?", he asked with concern.

"What about you Ville, since you've apparently thought the matter through?", she replied defensively.

"Chlo ..."

"Come on, say it again, Ville. You don't love me anymore, you don't want me in your life... go ahead, shout it again, get it into my head. And just like in your songs... our love is toxic, isn't it? Say what's inside you, I'm listening! And please, kill all hope in me", she cried, standing up abruptly.

He stood up too, raising his voice.
"What do you want, Chlo? For me to tell you I love you? Yes, I do love you, and even more than before, if that's even possible. And really, I don't understand why. How can I still have this intensity of feeling for a girl who keeps rejecting me, running away from me. London, really? You could have gone to Australia for all I care! And a girl who thinks she'll get her redemption if someone else hits her? But what did you have in mind? Your redemption would have been in my arms! I love you, damn it!". He nervously ran his hands through his hair.

"I love you Ville, if my words still have any value to you. I'm tired of running away from you". Tears welled up in her eyes.

"But you'll go away again. Because it's stronger than you. Because you never believed in my love for you". His voice softened.

"I tried, Ville. But you said you didn't love me anymore. And something inside me broke. It broke into a million pieces. It never mended, we never had ... the chance".

"I never stopped loving you", he repeated.

"And I have been loving you since day one. I would like to erase the last four years and I don't know how to do it. I want you to forgive me but you can't. So if you want us to be friends, we can try. If that's what you really want, my friendship and nothing else. At least I'll have a little bit of you". She let her tears fall freely.

"Damn it, that's not what I want!", he growled as he approached her. He took her in his arms and kissed her.

He led her to his room. When he broke the kiss to remove her T-shirt, he saw a shadow pass over her eyes. He understood. Carefully, he observed every inch of her skin and found a few scars, some old, some more recent. The plant-shaped tattoo now stretched from her arm to her ribs, hiding some marks. He took a deep breath and rested his forehead against hers.

"Come back to me, honey. And stay."