I washed my hands of Orlando a long time ago. I told myself he was an addict, and there was nothing I could do before he admitted that at least he had a problem. It broke my heart at the time, because I really love that kid. But he turned into some kind of wild thing, and I was pretty fucked up at the time myself, so I did nothing
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Orlando's fine. He's out of the woods.
Take care of yourself, all right?
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There are so many things I want to tell you, say to you, share with you. I let you down repeatedly today, and I don't know how, or if I'll ever be able to make it up to you.
One thing above all things I want you to know, Sean, is that you do have a right. You have every right to say something to me. I asked you to be with us, live with us, stay with us. I want you with me -- I need you. I know Miranda wants and needs you. Now more than ever.
Maybe you'll try to turn me away, maybe not, but I'm not going to leave you alone again. I'm going to make things right for us. For all of us.
I love you, Sean. I want, hope for us to be together always. The three of us. I hold things back a lot, don't say what I should, but I'm finished.
*Viggo walks to the door to the bedroom they share. It's darkened, even against the light outside, shades pulled to keep out the glare. He walks to the bed where Sean is laying, knows he's not asleep. He sits on the edge of the bed and takes Sean's hand in his, his eyes speaking volumes -- ( ... )
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Listen, I'm in Rome, but . . . if you need someone to talk to . . . please don't think twice about calling, all right?
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Please...
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