Arnold watched Helga butter her toast.

"Where's mine?" he asked, half serious.

"You have arms and legs, Arnold. Use them," Helga told him, taking a bite out of her toast.

"Do you treat all your guests this way?" he asked.

"No, I never bring them home," she said. "I always go to their place. Look Arnold, this isn't some little love nest. We had sex. I'm not going to turn into some domestic goddess, if that's what your looking for."

"No, no, I just thought-"

"Well don't," she said, picking up her coffee and walking towards her studio room. "You can find your way around alright?"

Arnold nodded.

"Okay," she said, walking into her studio and shutting the door, leaving Arnold sitting at the kitchen counter dumb struck.

"Wow, first time this has happened to me," he mumbled. He couldn't understand the turn around in Helga. Last night, between them, had been incredible. Now, in the harsh light of day he was wondering what he had done. He sighed, getting up and making himself some toast. Had he made a mistake? It was dawning on him now that he had just chucked away a four year relationship, for what? What had he thrown it away for?

'But last night . . .' his mind was thinking. It had to mean something, right? Now he was starting t worry. What if he had made a mistake. The toast popping up brought him back to reality and he prepared it, then sat and ate. He would think about things after breakfast. He hadn't actually had much time to really look around the apartment, so he did so now. Which was when he noticed it.

There was no television. At all. Anywhere.

"Huh," he said. "Wonder where it is?"

He cleaned up after himself and went to the room Helga had said he could have and stood staring out the window. He was in the middle of a busy city. You could open the ranch slider and stand on a small deck, which he did, and looked to his left. It went along the length. Past his window, past the living room and probably past Helga's bedroom window. He took a walk to see if he was right, and yep, he was. That confirmed he started back to his room. He wondered then how many bathrooms there were. He knew there were two at least, one attached to Helga's, one attached to his. But he didn't know if there was a main one. He entered the room across from his and saw that this room too, had a bathroom. Three bathrooms. This room didn't have a window though, and was next to the kitchen. So it was a four bedroom apartment. He saw this room had a computer in it. The room had been turned into a study, though there was a double bed in there. But it hadn't been used by the looks of it, even though it was made up to be.

He left the room and wandered into the living room and sat down on the couch. Helga came out of the fourth bedroom.

"Lunch?" she asked. "I feel like omelets or something."

"Omelets for lunch?" he asked.

"Yes, Arnold, omelets for lunch," she said sighing. "Problem?"

"No, I just see omemlets as more of a breakfast thing," he explained.

"So you don't want any omelets?" she asked.

"No, I do!" he said.

"Okay, what do you want in it?"

Arnold watched her move around the kitchen making the omelets. She was telling him about the commission she was doing for Darius.

"Isn't it sweet?" she asked. "Lucky bitch."

"I thought Gladys was your best friend?" Arnold said.

"She is," Helga confirmed. "I don't mean that literally, Arnold. She's the greatest thing since sliced bread, and would give you her undies if you had none."

"That supposed to be shirt," Arnold told her.

"Yes, but then she'd be cold, you nit," she said, shaking her head. "Men."

She put her plate on the bench and walked off towards that room.

"Pheeb's is coming over, just send her in," Helga said over her shoulder. Then she closed the door.

Ten minutes later there was knocking on the door and Arnold opened it to find Phoebe standing there.

"Hello, Arnold," Phoebe greeted him. "Is Helga home?"

"She's in her studio," he said, stepping back. "Um, so-"

"Gerald and Lucy are playing the blame game," she told him. "At the moment they're busy ripping each other apart, rather than coming after you. Though I don't expect it to last long."

Phoebe continued past him and entered the room Helga had gone into.

….

"So what happened?" Phoebe asked, dropping her purse onto the floor and sitting down on the chaise.

"I cancelled Darius today, for starters," she told her. "No way would I be able to concentrate. And Arnold and I slept together last night. Alcohol was involved."

"Of course it was," Phoebe said sighing. "Nature must laugh her butt off at us stupid humans."

"Pheebs, we laugh at us stupid humans," Helga told her. "She probably just wonders where they heck she went wrong."

"True," she conceded. "So what happened?"

"He just showed up on my doorstep yesterday, dressed to the nines, came in, made himself at home, explained he caught his finacee and Gerald in the toilets-"

"Ugh, who does that? I mean the toilets?" Phoebe said, making a gagging face. "Classy."

Helga laughed.

"Well apparently Arnold had been off with the maid-of-honour the night before," she said. "I don't know these people."

"Okay, well, Gerald had sex with Lucy, to get back at Arnold for having sex with Elizabeth," Phoebe told her.

"Who's Elizabeth?" Helga asked, turning back to her painting.

"Gerald's girlfriend," Phoebe told her.

"Seriously?" Helga asked.

"Yep. Anyway, Lucy found out why Gerald was sniffing around her and is crazy mad at him saying it's his fault Arnold took off," Phoebe concluded. "At least, that's what I'm figuring."

"Okay, it's official," Helga said, putting her paint brush down. "He's out."

"Out?"

"Yeah, I'm not having soap drama follow his cheating, lying ass here," Helga said. "This is my sanctuary. I'm not having it sullied."

"Helga-"

"What?"

"Elizabeth looks a lot like you," Phoebe said.

"So?"

"So, think about it. He's been cheating on his fiancée with a girl who looks like you," Phoebe told her. "Then he takes off, comes here, and Elizabeth hasn't heard from him at all. He's not answering her texts or calls or anything."

"What are you trying to say?" Helga asked, though she had an idea that she knew what the answer was going to be.

"I think he was looking for you."

Helga was quiet a moment.

"Yeah, he said something to that effect to me yesterday," she said. "I thought he meant literally looking for me."

"He has been for a few years," Phoebe confessed. Helga eyes widened.

"A few years?" she asked. Now a ball of anxiety was starting to bounce in her stomach.

"Me and Lila always sort of brushed him off," Phoebe said.

"Pheeb's, I don't think he was in your place to sleep with Elizabeth," Helga told her.

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked. "Why else would he be there?"

"To find out where I lived."

…

Helga did cook dinner that night for Arnold. She placed in front of him.

"Thanks," he said, looking at it. "What is it?"

"Couscous with chorizo and chickpeas," she told him. "If you don't want it put it in a container and I'll eat it for lunch tomorrow."

"So what did you and Phoebe talk about?" he asked.

"You," she stated.

"Me?""

"You."

"Why?" he asked.

"Hmm, let's see . . . um, you show up out of the blue after not talking to me for five years, dressed for your wedding, and begging for a place to stay, come out with me, drink with me, fuck me, try to take a shower with me all in less than twenty four hours," she tells him. "What do you think?"

"I think we should top it off by running off to Vegas and getting married," he told her smiling.

"Haha, no," Helga said. "What's going on, Arnold?"

Arnold played with the food on his plate, digging through it with his fork.

"I had this dream," he told her. "The week before, and in it my grandparents were sitting in the front row shaking their heads and telling me I was making a mistake."

"Okay, but it was just a dream," she told him. He shook his head.

"It was more than that," he said. "In it my grandpa takes me to the packard and drives me to the old FTi building and your there, waiting for me."

Helga takes a deep breath.

"I remembered it all, and when I look to get away my grandparents are there smiling," he admitted. "I took it as a sign."

"Arnold, we were nine. It was sixteen years ago," she told him.

"But I couldn't get rid of your voice," he yelled, standing up. "Everytime any girl ever told me she loved me, I always remembered that morning, Helga! Always. It was your voice I would hear. Do you have any idea how badly you affected me?"

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said. "But what-"

"I could never find you!" he yelled again.

"Listen, can you keep it down a bit?" she asked.

"So when Elizabeth caught me at Phoebe's I made something up," he said. "That's how it happened. Then I snuck into her office, found out where you lived, and came here."

"Okay, now I'm thinking I should call the police," she said. "Should I call the police?"

"I wanted to find you before I got married, fuck you, get you out of my system, then I could go off and forget about you," he said, pacing.

"Gee, thanks, now I feel special," she said. "You're a real romantic."

He stopped and stared hard at her.

"What?" she asked, looking uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It didn't work," he said. Before she could say anything, he strode over to her, threw her over his shoulder, and despite her protests took her to the room.

She was more submissive that night, but no less passionate. He didn't attempt the morning shower stunt again.

"So when are you going to go get your stuff?" she asked, unwrapping her hair from the towel. "I only have enough clothes to last you another day or so."

"Why?"

"Because you need clothes, you dumbass," she said, laughing.

"No, I mean, why do you have men's clothes?" he asked again.

"Sometimes I have friends in the same position as you are, except they go back to their wives after a couple of nights," she told them. "They sleep in one of the spare rooms, and I keep clothes aside in case it's a rushed thing and they don't have time to pack."

"Oh," he said, feeling relived.

"So? When are you going to get your stuff?" she asked again, sitting on the edge of her bed and towel drying her hair.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe I'll just buy some new things."

Helga shook her head.

"Your gonna have to face her sometime, Football Head," she told him.

He knew she was right.

"What do I tell her though?" he asked.

"Beats me, that's your problem."

….

By the time he got back to his shared apartment with Lucy he felt sick, he was that nervous.

"Maybe she went on the honeymoon alone?" he said to himself quietly. He took out his keys and opened the door and entered.

"Lucy?" he called out. Silence greeted him. He breathed a sigh of relief. She must be out. He made his way upstairs and to their bedroom. He saw their suitcases were still packed. That was helpful. He grabbed it and took it down to his car, then went back and took out two more. He emptied his things from the closet, then started on the drawers. He was in the study when he heard the door open downstairs.

"Arnold?" he heard Lucy call out. He didn't answer her. The feeling of needing to be sick returned, and his scalp prickled. "Arnold!"

Finally, knowing he would have to confront her eventually, especially if he wanted to get out of the house, he exited the study.

"Oh my God, there you are!" she cried out, reaching out for him. He took a step back. "What's wrong?"

Everything he could think of to say sounded so cliched.

"I'm just getting my things," he told her.

"What? Why?" she demanded. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to stay with a friend for a little while."

Lucy said nothing, but followed him into the bedroom.

"I'm sorry, Arnold," she said.

"I know," he said. "And so am I. I haven't been fair to you. At all."

"What do you mean?" she asked. He just shook his head. "Is it about Elizabeth? Because, yeah, I'm pissed, but we can call it even, right?"

"No, Lucy, we can't call it even," he said to her. "Something like this won't be healthy for our relationship. Ever."

"Look, I know it seems-"

"I'm not in love with you," Arnold said. "I'm not, okay? I . . . I can' even say for sure that I ever was. I mean I liked you. A lot. And loved you, too, but I wasn't in love with you. Damn it, I can't make it make sense."

"Oh, I hear you loud and clear," she snapped. "You never loved me. I was just something to fuck until your real true love came along, is that right?"

"What?"

"Oh please, like I didn't hear you talk about Helga in your sleep," she said. "Is that who your staying with? Is that you "friend"?"

"Look, Lucy, I'm sorry okay? That's all I can say. I'm sorry."

She burst into tears.

"Just go, get out!" she yelled. She turned and walked into the office and slammed the door.

Arnold finished his packing then took his suitcases down to his car and loaded them up. He went back in and grabbed a few more things, then got in his car. He looked back once.

"I'm sorry, Luce," he whispered, then started the car and drove away.

….

"How'd it go?" Helga asked, as he came in.

"Fine," he said, not saying anything more. He was waiting for her to continue prying, but she didn't. she just nodded.

"Chinese for dinner?" she asked, pretending like nothing was going on.

"Aren't you going to push me for answers?" he asked sarcastically.

"Nope," she said. "I hate it when people ram their nose into my business before I'm ready to talk. I believe in treating others as you wish to be treated."

Arnold was quiet as he watched her pick up a phone and dial a number.

"What do you want? Hi, can I get a Chicken Chow Mein and a Sweet and Sour Pork please?" she said, then looked at Arnold.

"That sounds fine," he said, taking a seat.

"That's all thanks," she said. "Okay, be there soon. Thankyou, bye."

She walked over to him and patted his shoulder.

"You'll be fine," she said. "I have a bottle of whiskey in the cupboard, help yourself."

…..

Helga bumped into her elderly neighbour, Shirley, on her way down.

"How is your new friend dear?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's alright," she said. "Bad break up, he's hanging around for a little while, get back on his feet and all that."

"He seems like a nice young man," she said, peering at Helga. "Strong, young, verile."

Helga turned pink.

"Really, Shirley," she said.

Shirley just laughed.

"Have fun with him dear," she said. "He'd make a good daddy. He has that look, you know?"

"I'm not after children," Helga told her.

"Yet," Shirley said. "I never planned them either, but sometimes men can have a way of changing a woman's mind. Especially the good ones. But you watch yourself til then."

"Don't worry," Helga said, patting her upper arm. "I'm safe."

"Famous last words," the old lady quipped.

….

"Why don't you have a TV?" Arnold asked her that night.

"Don't like 'em," Helga said, putting the last cup away.

"You watched it a lot when you were a kid though, right?"

"What's your point?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"So why don't you have one now?" he asked.

Helga sighed. "Too distracting."

"You have a computer," he said.

"In a room on the other side of the apartment," she told him. "With a little alarm clock."

They were both quiet, not knowing what else to talk about.

"I'm gonna go do . . . Stuff," she finally said. "Feel free to borrow a book or use the computer. Password is w-o-b-k-n-I-p."

Arnold watched her enter her studio and close the door. Sighing he went to the spare room and went online. Messages galore were in both his email inbox and facebook inbox. Some were from Gerald, a couple from Elizabeth, a ton from Lucy, one from Lucy's parents . . .

He made a face and deleted them all, not even bothering to open them and look. He spent a good ten minutes deleting people from his facebook and email. There was deleting comments, blocking people, changing his status to "It's complicated." he played a couple of games, but got bored, so caught up with some of his shows. Got bored again. Switched everything off, went into the kitchen, looked in the fridge, nothing to eat, went to his room, unpacked his stuff, then just sat there staring out the window. It was then he realised that it had grown dark. He looked at his watch. Three hours! He got up again and went into the living room, just as Helga was leaving her studio.

"Occupied yourself alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, staring at her from across the room.

"Well, I'm off to bed," she said, yawning. "Goodnight Arnold."

Arnold watched as she closed her bedroom door. Not knowing what else to do he went back to his room and went to bed himself, but he couldn't sleep.

He was too lonely.