Getting space from someone who lives in the same house proved to be a bit difficult for Helga. She intentionally changed her normal routine the next day so she would not have to see him. Apparently, Arnold had the same idea, and they bumped into each other on their way to the bathroom in the morning. Arnold gave her the apologetic look, but didn't say anything to her. He didn't know what else to say to her that he hasn't said already. Helga avoided his stare and head back to room and wait for him to finish. The next day, Helga cracked her door open and waited to see him exit the shower before leaving the room.

During the day, Arnold went to work while Helga roamed the manor freely. Once he got home, she avoided Arnold at all costs. If she saw him in a room, she darted back to the direction from which she came. Whenever they were both in the hallway, she would quickly hide behind a column until he passed by. On days he didn't work, Helga would go into the city or the gardens for several hours. The only time she was forced to see him was dinner, and she would sit as far away from him as possible. Helga asked if she could eat in her room, but Rhonda refused, for it "threw off the balance of the table." So instead of taking her usual seat next to him, she sat on the opposite side and refused to look in his direction.

If the group was hanging out together in the evenings, either Helga or Arnold or both would complain of a headache and retire to their room for the night. "Are you sure you don't want to hang out?" someone would ask them after hearing the pathetic excuse. They all knew the story, and all tried to remain neutral for the sake of the entire household. The last thing they wanted was to be divided. They understood that they both needed time, but that didn't mean that they liked when one of the blondes had fake being sick just to avoid being around the other.

"Yeah, my head hurts. Sorry," one of the blondes would say before barricading themselves in their room for the remainder of the night. And that's how it went for three weeks. Most of the housemates were sympathetic to the situation and tried to accommodate for their friends. The girls would talk to Helga and try to convince her to talk to Arnold.

"But you two are perfect for each other!"

"You know you love him."

"He made a mistake. I'm sure he didn't mean it."

When their words fell on deaf ears, Curly stepped in and attempted to get through to his friend. "He saved your life! He risked his life to save you."

"And I saved his life before. I don't owe him anything," Helga rebutted. "And now, he doesn't owe me."

"It's not about owing anyone anything. It's about being there for each other through good and bad."

"You talk as if we're married," Helga snorted. "And we're not. Besides, you're forgetting that he lied to me. He kept something huge from me, and made himself look like this big hero when that was not the case."

Curly sighed in defeat. Helga's stubbornness was running deep, and it was proving difficult to maneuver. When Curly was unable to get the job done, the girls decided to avoid the subject of Arnold whenever Helga was around.

One evening, Helga excused herself from the group and went to her room. Arnold hung his head low as she left. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her, but Phoebe convinced him to stay away and let her come to him. And so he stayed in his seat, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from crying. Someone saw the hurt and pain in Arnold's eyes, and decided this has gone far enough.

Helga had situated herself on her bed, wrapped around one of her pillows when she heard a pounding on her door. She looked over to the door in confusion. No one had ever pounded on her door like that since Big Bob. "Um, come in?" Helga said in confusion. She was even more confused when she saw who entered the room. "Geraldo? What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to get you off your ass and go forgive Arnold," he stated while standing at the side of her bed, his arms crossed over his chest. "And then apologize to him for putting him through all this torture."

"Excuse me?" Helga asked as he sat up on the bed.

"You heard me. Now, I'm not going to be like the girls and coddle you about this fight. I'm going to be straight up with you. Get over your Pataki pride and forgive him. Did he mess up? Absolutely. But you are no better than he is."

"I never claimed to be," Helga defended, clutching her pillow.

"Your actions speak otherwise."

Helga scoffed. "He lied to me about being drafted."

"What did you want him to do? Stay and fight?"

"Of course not!" Helga shouted. "That is the last thing I want him to do! But after getting them from Auschwitz, he had plenty of time to tell me he was drafted. But he didn't. And I probably wouldn't have known about it if Harold didn't open his big mouth."

"So, you're upset that he didn't tell you about the draft and you found out from someone else?" Gerald summarized the situation.

"That's almost everything," Helga continued. "He also neglected to mention that the draft was the primary reason he left Germany. It wasn't because he was trying to save the others from what might happen. He decided to leave first and then thought to take them along with him."

"You're seriously pissed about his intentions?" Gerald asked, his mouth agape.

"Uh, yeah," Helga answered. "What part are you not understanding?"

Gerald busted out laughing, falling to one knee. He placed one hand on the bed to steady. Frustrated, Helga got up from the bed and towered over Gerald.

"What the hell is so funny?" she demanded to know. Gerald looked up and pointed to her, unable to breathe due to laughing so hard. Helga just stared at him, utterly confused about his bizarre hysterics.

Once Gerald was able to catch his breath, he stood up and faced the perplexed blonde. "I'm sorry," he said, still gasping for air, "but you are one of the most hypocritical people I have ever met."

Helga's face contorted into even more confusion. "I-I beg your p-pardon?" she stuttered.

Gerald pinched the bridge of his nose and began to pace the floor. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I recall that a certain someone was not interested in helping people escape from Auschwitz. Do you remember that?" Helga eyed Gerald, wondering where he was going with this. Gerald took her silence as a sign to continue. "This person was so dead set on not taking part in the escape plan, but she saw someone who she cares about deeply imprisoned in Auschwitz, her mind all of a sudden changed."

Helga crossed her arms. "What's your point, Geraldo?"

Gerald walked back to Helga and placed his hands on her shoulders. "My point is your intentions of joining the escape plan were not primarily for Harold, Eugene, or even Patty. You joined because Arnold was there. Let me ask you this: if he wasn't there, would you still have participated in getting them out?"

Helga sat back on the bed. She didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure of what she would have done. It probably would have taken more persuasion to get her on board with the whole situation. Hell, it took some begging just for her to go there, and that was when she didn't know where he was.

"I don't think I would have been as willing," she admitted shamefully. "It was the first time I saw him in almost three years, and he looked so frail. Everyone there did. It wouldn't take much effort to snap them in half. That place still haunts me. Seeing him like that haunts me."

Gerald sat beside her on the bed. "You really care about him, don't you?"

Helga looked at him. "I love him. I have ever since we were little. He was the one of the few people who have shown me kindness before being part of this group."

"Do you really want to risk everything you two have gone through over a detail that now doesn't even matter?" Gerald asked outright.

Helga sighed and curled up. "I don't know if I can trust him. If he didn't tell me about this, what else could he have lied about?"

Gerald rolled his eyes. "What could he possibly lie about? The guy's crazy about you!"

"Well…" she started as she played with her hands, avoiding Gerald's face, "there's something he said he did, but I'm unsure if he really did it."

Now it was Gerald's turn to be confused. "What thing are you talking about?" Helga gave him a look, and soon he realized what she was talking about, he face palmed. "Are you kidding me? You seriously doubt he killed Wolfgang?"

"It's not like him to kill," she explained, rubbing her head. "He hates guns; he's a pacifist. Yes, he was a good shot in school, but that was the one thing he absolutely hated it."

"Do you think that may be the reason why he left Germany in the first place? So he didn't have to fight?"

"I wouldn't know, because apparently I'm not important enough to him to tell me!" she retaliated, waving her arms around.

Gerald shook his head. "You have no idea how crazy he is about you. He wanted to go after you as soon as you were knocked out. Sid was the one who stopped him because it would have landed him in jail, too. But he was onboard going back for you and he tried to find a way to get you out in one piece. Wolfgang was the last guard alive, and Arnold shot him right in the head. According to Sid, Wolfgang said to Arnold, 'You're the weird-headed freak who Helga loves.' And Arnold replied, 'Damn straight, and this is for her.'"

Helga curled up tighter and avoided Gerald's eyes. Slowly her anger was fading away, but she wasn't ready to admit it.

"He's scared to death of losing you," Gerald mentioned. "He has been ever since that night. And pushing him away hasn't helped. Now for some strange reason, you two seem to work together very well. But if you keep him away for too long, he's not keep waiting. He will go away because he will think that is what you want. So if you still want him, you're going to have to accept the fact he didn't tell you about his draft, that he was trying to save himself, but still had the heart to save others instead of going by himself, and he is sorry for all of it. Understand that there will be times that you two are going to hurt each other. You need communicate with him, not yell and then ignore, because that's not going to solve anything. But if your pride means more to you, then by all means, don't talk to him." Gerald stood up and went to the door. Before he left, he looked back at Helga. "Don't let your fear of getting hurt hinder you from being happy, or else you're going to be alone and bitter for the rest of your life."

As Gerald left her room, Helga lied on her bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to take in everything that just happened. She hated to admit that Gerald was right because she personally couldn't stand him. Then again, he was the only one who was direct with her about how she was acting. Curse you, Geraldo! You just had to be the voice of reason. She pulled out her locket to see his current picture staring back at her. I really made this worse, didn't I my love? I couldn't be reasonable and listen to what you had to say before exploding. Oh, I am such a basket case!

A knock came from the door. Helga hid her locket and looked over. "Come in," she called out. When the knob didn't turn, she went to the door and opened it. "I said, come-" Her sentence stopped short at the realization she was talking to no one. She looked down both ends of the hallway. Am I losing it? She then looked down to see a vase filled with a variety of pink flowers, including roses, tulips, and lilies. Beside it was an envelope with her name scripted on it. She picked up both objects and closed the door. She placed the flowers on her nightstand and sat in a chair to open the envelope. Helga began to read its contents.

Helga,
Words cannot express how sorry I am for not telling you about the draft. It was a stupid thing for me to do, and I cannot explain why I didn't tell you in the first place. I mean, I didn't tell you when I first left to protect you. I didn't want anyone to come after you. That part was true. When I was getting ready to leave, I met with Harold and told him about the situation. At that moment, I decided to ask them to come with me so they could be safe as well. Everything else that happened is true, with only one exception. When we were sent to Auschwitz, I was also charged with skipping the draft. They gave me the choice of either fighting or Auschwitz, and you know what I picked.
But none of that matters. What matters is the fact I hurt you and betrayed your trust. I don't know what I can do to regain it, but know that I'm willing to do what it takes. It kills me that you won't speak to me, but what kills me even more is the hurt in your eyes. I want nothing more than for you to be happy, and if you are without me, then I will step aside.
All I want to say now is I love you. You mean more to me than life itself, and it has been that way for years. I meant it when I said you were my blessing. You gave me my life back, and I could not thank you enough for that. You will always be in my heart, Helga, and no one else can replace you.
All my love and apologies,
Arnold

Helga folded the letter back up and took a deep breath. She stood up, changed into her pajamas, and left her room. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach flapping frantically as she walked down the hallway. Before she knew it, she was outside the door she was looking for. She softly knocked on it, debating whether to stay or bolt. The door opened to reveal Arnold's face. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles underneath. But it was his smile that she really noticed. It was soft, as if he was relieved to see her.

"I guess you got my gift and letter?" he asked her.

Helga nodded. "Can I come in?"

Arnold moved out of the way as Helga slid passed the door and shut it behind them.