CHAPTER 1: Flora is Very Depressed (For real, though)

Flora sighed and looked out the window. The sky was cloudy and grey, as if it was designed to make her depressing day even more so.

"Professor Flora?" Said a hesitant voice, snapping her out of her sulking trance. She looked up slowly, to find Fidel, a freshman with short blond hair, standing in front of her desk and staring at her with concerned eyes. "Are you all right?"

Flora smiled as happily as she could (which wasn't very) "Yes, thank you. Are you done with your assessments?" She asked, busying herself with anything but her own thoughts.

"Yes." The students murmured.

Flora approached the lab table and examined the markers that the students had placed in each of the pots of unruly plants.

"Sorry boys," She said patiently. "But if you tried to eat either this one or this one," She pointed at two pots. "You will either have violent seizures or loose circulation in your toes."

The class groaned and began accusing each other until the bell rang.

"All right, Boys!" Flora yelled weakly to her departing students. "Practice out of your textbooks for the quiz tomorrow!"

She returned to her desk and gathered up her papers, watching as the students filed out in small groups. When they had all left, she relaxed, and laid her head on her desk

"Come on, Flora," She told herself. "You can't just stay in this green house forever."

"Yes I can." She whispered. She felt a tear escape her eye and land on the desk.

The door opened, and her head shot up. It was Cordatorta.

"Oh… erm…" He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Helia told me to look after you while he was gone… so I'm…"

"Thank you!" She squeaked, as fresh hot tears pooled in her eyes. She hastily scrambled up her papers, slung her bag over her shoulder, and hurried out the door. "See you later, Professor!" she choked, and jogged as inconspicuously as she could down the lawn to her home. Upon reaching the door, she wrenched it open, and threw herself inside the house, slamming the door behind her. She ran through the small foyer, leaving her things scattering across the marble floor, and fell apart on the living room couch. Her hot tears stuck her hair to her face. She held her stomach tightly.

When Flora had finally gotten her tears under control, she shakily pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. The creases where it had been folded were soft and worn- some words were almost completely gone along the lines, while others were mangled by tearstains. It read:

Dearest Flora,

I am so sorry for running out on you like this, but I need a little time to think. I will be no longer than two days, if that, and when I return, we will resolve everything.

I love you so much,

Helia

Flora read the note for what felt like the 100th time, and, for what felt like the 100th time, felt a lump swell up inside of her throat. The same questions that she had asked the night that she had come home from the ball and found this note on the table chased each other around in her head: If he loved her so much, why did he leave? If he was sorry, why did he leave? And how was he planning to "resolve" this? Flora couldn't see any real resolution. But she guessed she would find out soon, seeing as tonight was the second night Helia would be gone.

Flora got flustered when thinking of Helia's return. She missed him so much, but, at the same time, the last time she saw him was when she had told him she was pregnant at Bloom's ball, and then watched him disappear in to the darkness. What would she do if he didn't want to have anything to do with their baby?

Flora was tired, and hungry, and she just couldn't make herself cry any more, so she sat up on the floor and tried to forget how pathetic she was being. She was a Sirenix fairy, and would one day be the official presiding guardian of Linphea! She had defeated Lord Darkar, Valtor, the Trix, the Ancestral Witches, the wizards of the black circle, and Tritannus! She had rescued the planet Sparks and brought magic back to earth! She had survived the Omega dimension! She was famous all over the magical and non-magical dimensions for these achievements! She shouldn't be crying her heart out because of a little tiff with her husband! All her life she had been told that she was too much of a pushover, too lenient. Helia had always been really good about understanding that and not taking advantage of her because of it.

"But…" She thought, "Why does this feel like the hardest thing I've ever done?"

She stood up, put the folded note back in to her pocket, and walked through the house to the kitchen, leaving her things strewn about the floor.

She opened the fridge to find it uninspiring. She grabbed some milk, and a bowl from a nearby cabinet.

"Looks like cereal again," she mumbled sadly, opening the box. She and Helia had always enjoyed cooking together. The food they made was sometimes… bad, but they always thoroughly enjoyed making it, and spending time together. She laughed absentmindedly thinking of the time that they burnt dinner so badly that they just gave up and went to Magix for dinner. She felt a twinge of pain in her stomach as she remembered that she was eating cereal alone again for dinner.

The clock read 5:45, too early to go to bed, so Flora set about grading quizzes. Despite her brief stunt at Alfea, she never even considered teaching until Helia was offered the headmaster's position after his grandfather stepped down. But, despite it not being her original plan, Flora loved her job. She loved being able to help young people learn and become better, smarter people, and watching their eyes light up when they understood, she loved knowing that what she was teaching would help them later in life, and she loved being the on campus "mother" and "sister". The boys always came to her for advice on girls and clothing, and sometimes more serious things, too. Flora sighed. She wished she could get some advice right about now.

As if on cue, Flora heard a "Hello?"

It was Bloom. Did nobody knock? She walked in to the kitchen, to find Flora with her papers dispersed across the table.

"Grading papers?" Bloom asked.

"Yes." Flora responded, trying to sound cheerful and up beat, even though she just wished her best friend would leave. "I don't mind." She said, noticing Bloom's exaggerated look of disgust.

"So, Helia working late?" Bloom asked hesitantly.

Flora bit her lip hard for several seconds, before she was confident enough to say in a cracking voice: "No, he's out of town."

Bloom's face contorted "That scummy bastard" she said through gritted teeth, her anger seething.

"Don't call him that…" Flora said quietly, looking down at her interlaced fingers in her lap.

"He's still gone. He never came back to you on that bench, did he?" Bloom asked hotly.

"How do you know that?" Flora asked. "The bench at the ball, and then he... he walked away…"

"So I was right?!" Bloom raged. "It took me years to get past that, and it was for nothing. I was right all along, I never should have listened to me!"

Flora stared blankly. "…Bloom?"

"Nothing!"

Flora was suddenly worried, and remained silent.

"Nothing Flora, I just had a weird dream! What's that?" Bloom said hastily, pointing to where the weathered piece of paper that was Helia's note sat on the table.

"I got home, and this was on our bed," Flora said. As the tears that she had been avoiding began pooling in her eyes, she handed Bloom the note.

Bloom read it with a look of disgust.

"I'm going to kick his ass." She said determinedly.

"No, Bloom, please!" said Flora quickly. She had no doubt that Bloom would do violent things to Helia for this. "He's just… scared."

"OH." Bloom yelled. "AND HE DOESN'T THINK YOU ARE? OF COURSE IF HE'S SCARED THAN HE SHOULD JUST WALK OUT ON HIS WIFE AND UNBORN CHILD."

"It's only been two days—"

Bloom stood up from her chair. "YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD MAKE ME MORE SCARED?" She bellowed "IF I FINALLY TOLD MY HUSBAND THAT I WAS PREGNANT AFTER BEING WORRIED ABOUT HIS REACTION, AND HIM WALKING AWAY. THAT WOULD MAKE ME MUCH MORE SCARED."

"Bloom, I'm OK, if he needs this time, then—"

Bloom looked at the empty bowl of cereal on the table, and then the five other ones in the sink, and her eyes narrowed.

"Have you been only eating cereal since he's been gone?" she asked shakily.

"I just don't really feel—"

"That's so bad for the baby, Flora!" She exclaimed "And you, too! You of all people should know that!"

"I never thought of…"

"Look, here's the deal." Said Bloom, massaging her temples in an obvious attempt to calm down. "I'll make your breakfast and lunch for tomorrow, if you come to dinner with me tomorrow night."

Flora didn't want to accept the deal. Helia, being a man true to his word, should be back tonight. But… what if he wasn't? He had walked out in the first place, did that mean…?

Bloom seemed to notice Flora's internal conflict, and rolled her eyes. "Look,"

She sighed. "If he comes home, you're off the hook."

Flora blushed. "OK"

Bloom rolled her eyes again, and began bustling around the kitchen. Flora just watched.

"Bloom," She said suddenly. "Do you need help or anything? Aren't you due in, like, a week?"

Bloom scoffed while cutting vegetables. "I'm due in a month, Flora. There's nothing I can't do! Except pick up that tomato that just fell on the floor. Would you?"

Flora laughed emptily and picked up the fruit. The night continued with small talk and cooking, and, by the time Bloom left, there were two square meals in the fridge waiting: one for breakfast, and one for lunch.

When Flora was finally alone again, it was 9:30, a completely acceptable time for her to go to bed. She graciously ascended the stairs, and crossed the landing. But she stopped right before passing the door on the left; Helia's art room. The door had stayed firmly shut in his absence, and every time she saw it, Flora felt a spasm of pain. She loved Helia's art, and his creativity. She loved how thoughtful and deep he became when he painted or drew; she really just loved him.

She passed the door reluctantly, a lump welling up in her throat for what must have been the 6th time that day, and entered the double doors leading to her bedroom. The room was a mess. Her clothes and shoes thrown everywhere, along with a few of Helia's shirts, which smelled faintly of Helia himself, and Flora had taken to wearing to bed in his absence. The bed was unmade, towels were lying on the floor, and books were strewn every which where. Flora just couldn't motivate herself to take care of anything; not herself, not her home, not even her plants.

But Bloom was right: she was being stupid. She had to take care of herself, because in doing that, she was taking care of her baby. Tears broke free again when she realized how unhappy her child must be. Only eating cereal, no father, and a depressed lazy mother who never spoke. Flora sobbed.

"What am I doing?" She said, falling on to the bed holding her stomach.

Flora suddenly remembered Stella saying that if you speak to it in the womb, your baby will know the sound of your voice. She was startled to realize that she had never spoke to her baby. Did people do that?

"Hi…" Flora said tentatively. "Um…I… I'm your… your…" She struggled with the last word. "M…mom…"

"I'm sorry I did this to you," she choked between tears. "You don't deserve this." She began trying to steady her breathing in attempt to stop the tears. "You… you… you deserve better." She said quietly, arousing a new round of violent sobs.

She stopped abruptly. "What if it never hears Helia speak?" She thought in horror "What if it doesn't know the sound of its father's voice? What if…" she couldn't finish her thought. She would not let herself get upset about that, because Helia was coming back. End of discussion.