Helena brought very little with her that evening she moved in. Only a few bags of luggage and a violin case strapped over her shoulder. She'd taken the room across the hall from yours with a grateful smile and over the next few days, you develop an easy routine.
The mornings are quiet as you tiptoe around each other, each taking turns using the bathroom. You somehow manage to meet in the kitchen for a light breakfast of toast and jam. There are shy glances over mugs of steaming liquid, tea, for her and coffee for you. Then with soft smiles to each other and general well wishes for a good day, you leave for your classes and Helena for rehearsal.
If it weren't for those shared mornings, which you will not admit how much you look forward to, or the soft music emanating from under her door each night, you'd think Helena was only a wonderful illusion.
That all changes though at the end of your first week living together. Rising from bed, stretching your arms above your head before gathering your clothes to change into, a noise startles you. You hear footsteps, running down the hall towards the bathroom and then….oh no.
You quickly leave your room to walk down the hall towards the bathroom. Its door lies open ajar and you approach the room cautiously. Hearing the sound again, you step forward and push the door open wide. Helena lies on the floor retching, her beautiful hair falling into her face. Without hesitation, you stand behind her, gently gathering the silky tresses in your hands, pulling the long strands away from her face.
Helena turns surprised eyes on you. Their depths briefly reflect gratitude and you offer her a sympathetic smile before she's turning away again to be sick. You stay with her, gently rubbing circles along her heaving back until the nausea passes and she leans back against the tub exhausted. Pulling out a washcloth from the cupboard, you run it under the faucet, allowing the cool water to soak the cloth.
She takes the cloth from you with another brief smile before dabbing at her face.
"This blasted morning sickness. I thought I was finally rid of it," she apologizes.
"I have some saltine crackers in the kitchen. They should help the nausea," you offer and Helena smiles weakly.
"Thank you, yes. I used to keep some near my bedside at the beginning of my pregnancy. I took to just eating them as soon as I awoke; it helped immensely."
"I'll be right back then," you say as you hurry to the kitchen. You find the saltines easily and also pour a cup of orange juice. Helena still hasn't moved from the floor of the bathroom when you return and you offer the crackers and juice to her before joining her on the floor once more.
"Thank you, Myka," she says between taking a bite of cracker and sipping the juice.
"Should you stay home today? Do you want me to call someone to let them know you're not feeling well?" you ask concerned.
You're rewarded with another soft smile. "I'll be fine in a few minutes," she assures. "Thankfully my morning sickness has been confined to just that. I'll be well enough to attend rehearsals, but thank you for asking."
"All right, then. I should probably get ready for class," you say standing.
Helena sighs. "I should best get ready as well." As she struggles to stand you reflexively extend your hand to help her from the floor. In an instant, your eyes meet hers, full of warmth and appreciation and you feel as if all the breath has been knocked from you at the sight.
"Okay then," you say awkwardly as you let go of her hand and take a step back. "If you need anything, let me know," you manage to say before practically fleeing the room for the safety of your own bedroom.
You really need to get a grip. Helena is beautiful, but you can't fall in love with her despite the suspicion you already have. You're only here for six months…and she's pregnant…and you don't know how you feel about kids…and you don't have a permanent job and the list goes on of all the reasons why you should not fall in love with her.
Still, you know berating yourself like this is virtually useless. You're pretty sure you're already in love with her.
"Hey, Mykes, how goes London?" Pete asks over the phone. "Pip, pip, cheerio and all that," he laughs in his usual chipper manner.
You can't help laughing with him, so glad to hear his familiar voice. "London is beautiful," you say. "Really beautiful," you amend as the image of Helena flits through your mind. You shake your head, trying to shake off the image. "How's Amanda?"
"Beautiful," comes Pete's immediate reply, causing you to laugh again.
"Things are going well for you two then?"
"If they could get any better, I'd be flying over the moon."
"What does that even mean?" you ask amused.
"Just that I'm over the moon for Amanda," he laughs. "So, what about you? Have you forgiven me yet for not joining you across the pond?"
"Well since I've managed to find a roommate, I guess you're forgiven," you concede.
"So soon? That's great, Mykes. So who is this roommate of yours? Do I need to talk with them to make sure they meet the standard of roommate material?"
"Roommate standard, really Pete? I'm pretty sure you never measured up to any such standard considering you once used one of my books as a coaster."
"Hey, hey now, that was one time," he whines, " and I learned my lesson. I think I have a permanent dent in my arm from the punch you gave me."
"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure that's a lesson Helena has never had to learn. She appreciates the written word and respects books as one should."
"Helena, huh? She sounds snooty."
"No, she's…Helena," you falter lamely.
"Why do you sound all breathy when you say her name?"
"What? No I don't," you argue defensively.
"Yeah, you so do," Pete counters. "Do you like her or something?"
"Of course I like her, Pete, I let her move in."
"That's not what I meant and you know it. You're attracted to her, aren't you?"
"Pete," you reply exasperated. "It's not like that, okay? She needed a place to stay and thanks to you, I had an extra room and need of someone to help pay the rent."
"And you like her."
"I just met her."
"So? You like her."
"She's pregnant, Pete," you blurt out.
There's silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. "Pete?" you ask hesitantly.
"You work fast, don't you?" he laughs.
"You're such a child," you mutter, "and you know, sometimes I really hate you."
"Yeah, I love you too, Mykes. So she's pregnant. You can still be attracted to a pregnant woman."
"Really? Thank you for explaining that to me," you reply sarcastically.
"I knew it, you are attracted to her," and you can practically hear the grin in his voice.
You sigh heavily. "I think it's actually more serious than that." Biting your lip, you finally say the words aloud. "I think I'm in love with her."
Pete whistles. "That is serious. Are you sure?"
"I'm not sure about anything anymore," you admit dolefully. "I never thought a person could fall in love at first sight, but I think I have. Ever since our first meeting, Pete, I've felt this…longing for her.
"Maybe it's just lust?" Pete offers helpfully.
"No…I mean, yes, it's that too, but it goes so far beyond that. I care about her, I worry over her, and I just want her to be happy and safe."
"Yep, sounds like love," Pete agreed. "So, what are you going to do about it?"
"I have no idea," you groan.
"Hey, Mykes," Pete soothes, "just take it a step at a time."
"Yeah, a step at a time," you breathe.