***Author's Note: Revisions! Revisions! I was never really happy with this BUT I you can't get better if you DON'T EVER WRITE! And what better way to do that than to tweak something you already wrote? Mostly just changes in format because *yeesh*, looking at paragraphs that are waaay too long can get tiring on the eyes.***
Helga released a deep sigh. Rubbing her face with the palms of her hands, she quickly shook her head to dispel the nagging thoughts from her mind. A gurgle sounded, and she stood up to check on her daughter. She was still sleeping in her crib, but Stella wasn't always a peaceful sleeper. Her baby girl was prone to fussing, especially around three a.m, not yet used to being completely alone. Helga lightly touched her daughter's cheek and drew her finger down to the tip of her chin. It was too late in the night for her to still be awake, and she knew she would pay for her restlessness throughout the day. But he was weighing too heavily on her mind tonight.
She would see his smiling face every time she closed her eyes; bright green emeralds would stare at her intensely, and she could feel the touch of his fingertips ghosting over her hand. Helga wanted to stop the memories of what she once had; the brief time she had with him had ended years ago. Yet, they had burned into her consciousness. She remembered everything they had been through together. Their first encounter, the bullying and angry words she directed at him and regretted saying immediately after, her confession atop the FTI tower, only for her to take back every single word and her heart dying in the process.
Throughout middle school and most of high school, she had effectively ignored his very existence. But on the first day of her Junior Year, she saw his face in her first period class. Then he appeared again in her third. By the end of her school day, he was in 4 of her 7 classes. Things were made even more complicated when their respective best friends began to date. There was just no escaping him that year.
And then there were the words that started everything all over again.
"My feelings for you have rekindled…"
Flabbergasted, she had wanted an explanation. He must have been stoned off his rocker to have ever looked at her anything more than his bully but she couldn't bring herself to question him. If she began to ask questions...what was to stop him from asking his own?
With his admission, a tentative relationship began to form. They weren't together, yet they weren't exactly friends either. They tried to be around one another a bit more often…maybe a casual date here and there before he officially asked her to be his girlfriend. But just as quickly as everything came together it soon fell apart.
He had called her at the end of the school day asking to see her. She quickly obliged, meeting him at the boarding house to find his Grandfather ordering movers around. "Be careful! That's an antique! Pookie! They aren't stealing anything, put the poor guy down!"
Arnold was moving; his parents had been found in San Lorenzo, captives of the river pirate La Sambra and he and his grandparents were selling everything to fly down to South America. She barely heard a word he said. She couldn't follow everything he was telling her but she understood one thing and one thing only: he was breaking up with her. The distance was too much, they couldn't make it work. And she found herself speaking the words that had been repeating in her mind; it began as a whisper and now was drowning out all coherent thought.
"All I want is you."
He had kissed her tenderly on the forehead before drawing her close to him. He mumbled something about keeping in touch, that they could still be friends. And before she knew it, he was gone.
She tried to avoid everything that reminded her of him at first. Anything Arnold related was taboo and her best friend never mentioned him when they were together. But Gerald had let it slip one day that Arnold was seeing a pretty girl in one of the local villages and she swore that her heart was breaking all over again. It hadn't even been a month before he had left Hillwood behind and he was already with someone else. After school that day, she had walked to the pier alone and sat on the edge of the dock watching the sunset. She made herself a promise: as much as she loved him, she would not wait on the sidelines while he lived his life. Helga resolved that she would find someone who loved her, someone who wouldn't leave her behind.
It wasn't long before she found that someone. At first, all she wanted from Michael was friendship. She knew him from a class they shared, and after casually mentioning the reason why she never drank, he had admitted that his father was both an alcoholic and drug addict. They had understood each other on a level that no one else ever had. He asked her out, and she had said no the first two times. But after remembering how quickly Arnold had moved on and the promise she had made to herself, she made up her mind to move forward and asked him out.
For several months, Michael and Helga were happy; they talked on the phone late at night, kissed each other shyly until their relationship blossomed into a mature intimacy. But after that first year, her heart began to send her flashes of him. She would dream that they would be sitting on the steps of school, just talking. He never touched her, she couldn't even make out what the conversation was about. It was as if they were just catching up, as if he were checking up on her. And she would wake, a sob caught in her throat while Michael slept peacefully beside her.
She tried to break up with him a few months later. She had tried. But she was not successful; Michael would talk about how he could change, how he could do better, that she just needed to have patience and that being in love was all new to him. She didn't have the heart to tell him that the real reason why she wanted to part ways was because she was still in love with someone else. When it came right down to it, the fear of being alone always won out in the end and she would find herself accepting his pleas. She did love Michael; you can't live with someone for years without having a deep connection and affection for that person. She understood his fears, his insecurities. They were similar in temperament and both had families that mistreated and ignored them. Michael had saved her life; if he hadn't come into her life when he did, she probably would have killed herself from the overwhelming loneliness she had felt. She owed him a great debt that she felt she never could repay.
The years continued to tick by, and one day she found herself accepting a marriage proposal. A few years later, their daughter was born. She hadn't told Michael the reason why she had named their daughter Stella. He hadn't asked. The way he looked at their daughter, as if she were the most precious thing in his life, swelled her heart. She was loved. She had built a family who she could pour her love into and see grow into something more than what she had ever experienced. Yet, Arnold was always on the fringes of her thoughts. She would see him in town from time to time; they would chat for a bit and then he would disappear from her life all over again, leaving her feeling guilty about imagining that they could have been happy together. She had accepted that Arnold was the love of her life and that was never going to fully recover her heart from that man.
And then the unthinkable happened. Michael had gotten a job as a mechanical engineer several years ago; he often worked late at night, leaving her to her own devices until he came home well after 9 p.m. Nothing changed after their daughter was born. If anything, he seemed more tired at the end of the day. Tiredness morphed into indifference, and eventually detachment. This was normal behavior for him, so she didn't think anything of it. He didn't manage his stress well, and often retreated into his man cave for several hours before he could even hold a conversation with her.
But one night he came home earlier than usual. His fingers were trembling, and he couldn't sit still for very long. He was rambling, his words coming out at 90 miles an hour. Michael was leaving her. His company had hired a new intern, someone he was to mentor and help grow within the industry. He had known this woman for more than a year and he kept repeating, "I was always faithful, I never broke our wedding vows". He loved this other woman; he loved her with such a passion that he couldn't fathom being without her. He was apologizing, saying how Helga could take everything, he didn't mind, that she deserved it. Yes, they were going to get a divorce, yes, he was going to move out and yes, he was going to grant full custody of their daughter to her.
"I don't want this to be an ugly thing, Helga. I loved you, I still love you. But what I feel for her, what I think I could have with her…try to understand, please. Don't hate me, I just…I can't help it. I know you deserve better than this, better than anything I could ever give you." And then he was gone. Like a puff of smoke, his presence dissipated leaving her feeling emptier than she had in years.
For months afterward, she experienced a whirlwind of emotions. She was angry that Michael had left her, and yet an overwhelming sadness would creep up on her. She felt like a failure, a person you cast aside when something better comes along. Yet she rationalized it, telling herself that Michael was a better person than she was because he had the decency to end their relationship when he knew that his heart no longer belonged to her. He had the guts to go after what he wanted, and even remained faithful to her despite his feelings for this other woman. She had settled, snatching up the first person who had shown her the slightest bit of interest and held on to him despite her heart telling her that it was wrong.
Helga released yet another sigh. She no longer cried when she thought about everything she gave up. She was still hurting, but she had a daughter that she wouldn't trade for anything in the world; Stella was her reason for waking up every morning. She would make sure that the child she carried for nine months, that stubborn bright eyed little girl, would know that her mommy loved her more than anything in the world. She was done with men. A new resolve set firmly in her mind, Helga finally dragged herself to her bed. She could still get a few hours of sleep in before her daughter crawled out of her bed and demanded attention.
A five year old Stella was pouting in the cereal aisle, stomping her little feet with each step.
"But I NEED that cereal, Mommy! It's my favorite!"
"And I told you, Stella. You already have two unopened boxes at home. So, no! I am not buying any more. Crimeny!"
The small girl continued to pout as they made their way through the grocery store, Helga stopping every dozen steps or so to grab something from the shelves and scratch an item off of her grocery list.
"Okay, little lady." She cringed internally at the nickname, conscious of the fact that that was what her father called her on occasion. "Stop pouting. You can pick something else that you would like as a treat. But you only get to pick one and it has to be under $5. Deal?" Helga extended her hand out for her daughter to shake. Stella cocked her hip to the side, her eyes rolled up to the ceiling in thought, before a grin broke out on her face.
"Okay! Deal!" She eagerly shook her mother's hand before running down to the end of the aisle to look for her newly desired treat.
"She's quite the negotiator, huh Helga?"
Helga froze at the sound of the voice coming from behind her. She slowly closed her eyes and swallowed the gasp that almost slipped past her lips.
"Yeah, she gets that from me. I was quite the master negotiator when we were kids."
"I hardly think threatening us with Ol' Betsy and the Five Avengers was proof of that. I'd say it was more so a clue into your desire for world domination."
"Technicalities. How ya doin', football head?"
"Good, great. I see you're doing well. How old is she?"
"Five, going on twenty. That girl makes me look like a cake walk." Helga laughed, shaking her head at the memory of the numerous shenanigans she found herself in.
"Well, she's beautiful. Just like her mom. How long have you been married now?"
Helga blushed at the compliment, but before she had a chance to respond her daughter chirped from her side.
"My mommy's not married. Who are you? Are you a stranger? Mommy, why are you talking to a stranger? Do you know him?"
Arnold laughed at that, a deep baritone that caused her heart to beat like thunder in her chest.
"No, I'm not a stranger. I knew your mom when we were kids. I was just about to ask her if she would like to catch up with me later, if that's ok with you."
"Well, I dunno. Mommy promised to take me to the park. Do you wanna go? I like the slide the best."
He looked up at Helga, who just smiled and nodded once, accepting his silent inquiry.
"I'd love to go with you. I don't think we officially met." He reached out and shook the younger girl's hand. "My name is Arnold. What's your name?"
"I'm Stella. Nice to meet you."
Arnold looked up at Helga, his emerald eyes meeting hers with such intensity that she was almost alarmed. She remembered that he used to look at her that way all the time,, as if she were the only one within the whole universe. She didn't know what to say, what to think or how to explain herself. Yes, she named her daughter after his mother. Yes, she still loved him after all these years. No, she did not want to talk about it right now. He seemed to sense her hesitation, but grinned at her daughter nonetheless.
"Pleasure is all mine, Stella. I hope that we can be friends, like your mom and I were."
"Sure! You seem nice. Mommy! I didn't find what I want yet. Can I keep looking?" But before Helga could answer, she was running down to the end of the aisle again.
"She's got a lot of energy."
"Yes, she does." Helga could barely hear her own voice, she was so nervous and didn't know what he would say now that they were alone again.
"I know we have a lot of catching up to do. There are many things to say…are you alright with me coming to the park still?"
"My daughter invited you. She's a pretty good judge of character. I think it'll be alright, football head."
He smiled at her, his eyes dazzling her into silence. He turned to walk away then, heading to the opposite end of the aisle to get his shopping cart.
"Whatever you say, Helga. I'll give you a call in an hour to find out which park."
"Wait! You don't have my number." It sounded more like a question than a statement.
She could hear the smirk in his voice when he responded. "I got your number from Phoebe ages ago. See ya soon, Helga."