(I don't own these characters)

The blonde silently wept. Three months. Three months she had been trapped here. Three months ago she was supposed to have been married. She was then going to go on a tropical honeymoon with her loving husband. Then they would return, buy a home, have a family. The whole nine yards. Her first book had just been published. What had gone wrong? Why had he done this to her?

She looked around the room she was in, then down at her wrist. It was tied to the bed post.

She had tried to run. Big mistake.

Now she was back at the beginning, right where she had started.

She curled in a ball on the bed and continued to cry quietly. If she made a noise he would come and comfort her, and she didn't want that.

Oh, how Helga G Pataki hated him right then.

Here, she had nothing to do but think on how everything had turned to hell.

…

…

Three Months Earlier

..

"What do you think Pheebs?" Helga asked, twirling around and letting the bottom of the dress billow around her. "Too much?"

"I think it's beautiful," Phoebe said, smiling. "I love the bridesmaid dresses, too."

Helga had settled for blue bridesmaid dresses. Pink did not suit Phoebe at all. A shame. Helga was not one for believing that her bridesmaids should look ugly on the day. If Phoebe looked ugly, it would ruin the pictures.

She had gone with a Regency theme for the dresses. The bridesmaid dresses fell to the ground and were a light pink, but Helga matched Phoebe with a light blue spencer over the top. Olga was planning to wear green but Helga had told her that if she dared to go against the colour scheme she was out of the bridal party.

Helga's veil was going to be fine lace that would lead into a train. If would not go over her face however, it would start from her hair down, and would have light pink ribbon on the edging. She had already decided to go with light pink pearls, for jewellery, and already had picked out white ballet flats, which she planned to glue pink pearls onto. She would have earrings, necklace no bracelet though, as she would be wearing satin gloves to her elbows.

She was glad they had chosen Autumn for the wedding too. She already had on a chemise, corset, and three petticoats. Part of her was asking herself why. Why was she putting herself through this?

"Do you think Patrick will make it through the reception?" Phoebe asked.

"Who knows," Helga said, smoothing her hand over the dress. She was in love with it, it fit perfectly. Which was good, because she had two days. She was paranoid about gaining a incy wincy bit of weight, so had been living on very small amounts of meat, with bigger servings of salads, vegetables and fruit.

"Oh, you will never believe who I bumped into the other day," Phoebe exclaimed suddenly. Helga turned around and raised a brow.

"Who?" she asked. Phoebe was so excited.

"Gerald Johansson and Arnold!" she gushed.

"Oh, are they in town?" Helga asked, all nonchalance. She rarely, if ever thought of Arnold these days. Hadn't in years in fact. He had moved away, they attempted contact, but eventually life had gotten the better of both of them and they gave up.

Well Helga did.

Arnold sent three letters, but after she didn't reply to them he gave up and she had never heard from him again. The last letter she had sent, she had mentioned Patrick, but only in passing. It had been love at first sight. She sighed remembering her first meeting with Patrick in the garden of her Sorority House. She had been puking from having had too much to drink, and she had felt someone pull her hair back and hold it for her.

"From that to this," she said quietly, shaking her head and smiling.

"What?" Phoebe asked.

"Oh, nothing, just thinking about mine and Patrick's first encounter. From holding my hair while I threw up, to getting married to me five years later," she said, laughing. "Who would've guessed?"

"It is an odd way to meet your husband, I suppose," Phoebe mused. She had gone to a different University to Helga, and had a very different experience. She had never joined a sorority, only had one romance. It had ended badly, and hurt Phoebe deeply, so she was now much more careful about the men she met. Helga had tried to set her up with some of Patrick's friends, but it never seems to get past the first date. Helga eventually gave up, figuring Phoebe would find someone when she was ready.

"Anyway, I bumped into Arnold and Gerald the other day, and we were talking and I mentioned your getting married," Phoebe said. "Gerald practically chocked on his coffee and demanded to know what mad man would marry Helga G Pataki, and Arnold just smiled and said good luck."

"That's nice," Helga said. "Can you pass me the comb?"

Phoebe passed the comb to Helga, and watched as her friend left some tendrils down and did the rest into a messy bun and secured it in place with the comb. It was a pretty comb, also with pearls on it.

"Anyway, Gerald is a radio DJ and Arnold is a doctor," Phoebe continued. She looked over to see Helga wasn't even paying attention. Phoebe smiled. When they were kids Helga was never one to ignore anything related to Arnold. Now? She didn't even flinch at his name."So are you meeting up with him again?" Helga asked.

"Who? Arnold?" Phoebe asked.

"No, Gerald, you dope," she said, laughing. "Why would you meet up with Arnold? Or is there something you aren't telling me?"

"I don't know, do you think I should?" Phoebe asked.

"Follow your heart, Phoebe darling," Helga said in a posh voice, teasing her soon-to-be mother in law.

"Well, he did give me his number," she said quietly.

"What have you got to lose?" Helga had asked.

…

…

Present.

…

"What a dumb move," Helga muttered to herself. If she could turn back time she would. And maybe she wouldn't be where she was now.