Summary: As much as she doesn't want to, Helen can't ignore her feelings. She loves him. After all this time, even after what he said, she still loves him.

Saturday, June 17th, 7:30 p.m., London

Another week gone by and Helen is as lost as ever. Things at the clinic aren't working or fulfilling her. The relationship with her mother is still strained, no matter how hard she tries to mend things. And Helen now realizes reaching out to Max, both in Switzerland and New York, had been a mistake. It was selfish of her to bombard him like that just to get some closure for herself. But the Max she saw last week wasn't the same person she left in New York. How could he think she'd run a skewed, biased drug trial? That would've been a betrayal of everything she stands for! Helen isn't sorry she hired Castro to save Max's life, but it came with some costs. And she certainly didn't expect the repercussions to bite her in the butt four years down the line.

Helen pulls her braids into a messy side twist, makes herself a cup of herbal tea, and scoops some ice cream. This rainy night warrants a cozy night in. As soon as she relaxes on the couch, Helen's phone rings, and she recognizes it as Max's new cell number she hadn't bothered to save. He tried calling her a few times throughout the week, most likely with apologies she's still not quite ready to hear yet. So Helen silences her phone and throws it across the couch.

She turns on the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice, usually one of her favorite movies. But tonight, it's hitting a little too close to home. The hardest scene to watch is when Mr. Darcy and Lizzie are arguing after running through the rain, both spitting hurtful things and accusations at each other. Darcy leans in close, and there's a moment when both he and Lizzie lock in on each other's lips. The sexual tension is so palpable, you could cut it with a knife! Then Darcy storms away, and Helen has to turn it off. She can't take the frustration anymore!

The pent-up rage within her is begging to be let out! Helen glances around and looks at her white-and-gold teacup and saucer on the side table. Max got it for her when they went to a Christmas market at Hyde Park during their first month here. One of the last pieces of him she kept. But maybe it's time to get rid of it, get rid of him for good.

She stomps the teacup set over to the sink, then forcefully throws it into the stainless steel basin, shattering it into a hundred tiny pieces. Helen stares at the mess, processing the result of her anger. She thought breaking the cup would make her feel better, or make her hurt less, she's not sure which. But she's still in as much pain as before. "SHIT!" Helen bellows while death-gripping the edge of the sink. "Bugger! Bugger! Fuck! Bloody hell! Dammit! Shit!" She pounds the counter with her fists before collapsing onto the floor in tears, slouching against the cabinets. As much as she doesn't want to, Helen can't ignore her feelings. She loves him. After all this time, even after what he said, she still loves him.

Helen doesn't know how long she sits there in a daze, it could be seconds, minutes, maybe even an hour. A pounding on the door startles her back into consciousness. Her first instinct is to hide or call the police. But then a familiar voice cuts through the darkness. "Helen! Let me in! I'm sorry, okay? I was an asshole! Please open up! I wanna apologize!"

Helen knows how persistent Max is. If she doesn't answer the door, he'll probably sleep in the hallway. She blows her nose, wipes the remnants of tears from her face, and smoothes her tank top before trudging toward the sound of Max's voice. Taking a deep breath, Helen braces herself as she opens the door.

Max's eyes are ablaze with adrenaline, his hair and long-sleeved gray shirt spattered by the pouring rain. "Oh, thank god! I wasn't sure if you moved. That could have been a nasty wake-up call for someone!"

Helen snickers and rolls her eyes, amused by his comment. But she's determined to keep a firm exterior.

"Can I… come in?"

For half a second, Helen contemplates leaving Max in the hallway and making him grovel. But his eyes are filled with such sincerity that she nods, moving out of the way as he slowly steps into the flat.

Max glances around, flinching as Helen turns on one of the lights. The place looks a little different. It's weird being back, disorienting, even. Luna's old toy-and-book section has been replaced by a shoe rack. Some of the artwork has been swapped out. And most of the plants they owned together are either gone or another plant is in their place. Max wonders if, like him, Helen spent the first few months of their broken engagement in such a depressive state that she forgot to water their plants and killed them in the process.

"Where's Luna?" It doesn't look like Max brought any luggage either, and Helen wonders if all he brought were the clothes on his back, his wallet, keys, and passport.

"Still in Switzerland. I got her a sitter for the night."

Helen crosses her arms in a defensive pose and trudges behind Max. "You said you wanted to apologize?"

"Yeah, I…" Max turns to face Helen, dumbstruck and out of breath. She's wearing a set of burnt orange yoga pants and a cropped tank top, as well as a matching loose knitted cardigan. Even in her lazy attire, Helen's still so beautiful! But her eyes are red as if she's been crying. It kills Max to think those tears were for him. "I… Helen," he breathes out, inching closer to her, but she takes a step back. It stings, but it's probably warranted. "I'm really sorry, Helen. What I said was awful! I never should have doubted you. I was just so hurt after everything went down that I didn't stop to think there could be another explanation to the drug trial."

"That's not who I am, Max! Out of all people, you should know that!"

"I know! I know!" Max heaves a weighty sigh, more frustrated with himself than ever. "You were trying to explain why you… stood me up. I wasn't listening. I was acting like a dick, and I'm sorry. Please forgive me, I'm begging you!"

All Helen could have hoped for in this situation was a heartfelt apology. She breaks down in tears again, and when Max opens his arms, she immediately retreats into their safety. His racing heartbeat is reassuring, the scent of his cedar cologne familiar and comforting.

Burying his face in Helen's hair, Max gently caresses her temple as they sway in place. "I don't hate you, ya know, for leaving me." Max feels Helen stiffen in his arms as if she's hanging onto his every word. "You were right, we weren't ready. I was so excited about us that I kept plowing forward. I didn't stop and listen to what you wanted. I didn't listen when you were hurting. I'm sorry for that too."

Helen shudders and wraps her arms around Max, needing to be closer to him. "I hope you know… making that phone call was the most difficult thing I've ever done. But the worst part about all this was that I lost my best friend in the process." Tears still rolling down her cheeks, Helen cranes her neck to gaze up at Max. "I really miss my best friend."

A memory floods Max's head: embracing after a heartfelt discussion about parenting at their rooftop spot, Helen said "I'm really glad that we're friends." At the time, it was a signal that she wasn't quite ready for something more. Max wonders if that's still the case. "I really miss my best friend too," he hums, entranced by her soft, shimmering brown eyes.

Both Max and Helen's eyes drift down to each other's lips, aching to feel their warmth again. They know they should break out of their position, that they're tempting fate. But maybe this is inevitable. Sliding her hands up Max's chest, Helen threads her fingers through his damp hair, pulling his face closer until their noses brush. She stops short, catching herself. "Max?" she whispers.

Max is hypnotized by Helen's voice, unable to break away from the power she holds over him. "Yeah?"

"We shouldn't."

In his head, Max knows this will probably end with his heart broken again, but every inch of his body is telling him to throw caution to the wind. "Would it really be that bad?"

That's all Helen needs, the signal that maybe he still wants her too. She's not sure who moves first, but suddenly, Max's mouth is on hers, and Helen's whole body is on fire! Never in her wildest dreams did she think they'd be here again!

"Mmm, mm-hmm!" Max mumbles with his tongue in her mouth, getting as lost in the kiss as she is. His hands roam down her back, her waist, and over her thin yoga pants to squeeze her butt.

Helen presses Max against the wall, clinging her arms around his neck to keep him as close as possible, but it's not enough! She breaks their embrace long enough to huskily utter "Bedroom!" before dragging him up the stairs along with her.

Max all but runs after Helen, seeing every moment their lips aren't connected as wasted time. They've wasted enough time already!

When they get upstairs, it's a hurried frenzy ridding each other of clothes. They've done this so many times, they could do it blindfolded. Max wants to take his time with Helen, but she's been missing him so much that she takes over, speeding through the warmup.

"I'm clean." Max hates that he has to even bring it up; it's an ugly, bitter reminder that he moved on and slept with someone else. "But do you have protection?"

Since Helen has been celibate for the past year, she's neither on birth control nor has any condoms. "I don't care," she whispers as she straddles Max, grinding against his hardened length. "My ovaries are practically useless."

Regarding that particular risk of unprotected sex, Max doesn't really care either. However unlikely, even if… no, he shouldn't finish that thought… if something happens, maybe that'll be the universe's way of sending them a sign that he and Helen are meant to be together.

When Helen sinks down onto Max, she feels whole again, like she's finally found the missing part of herself she lost a long time ago. She begins rolling her hips, threading her fingers through Max's as their bodies find their familiar rhythm. The sight of Max gazing up at her in awe makes Helen's stomach feel warm and fluttery, like it's their first time all over again.

Max and Helen made love frequently during her stroke recovery, starting with "strip poker" speech therapy night. It was the first time Helen started feeling like herself again, and like Max really saw her struggles. Later that night, a few more words tumbled from Helen's lips as they joined their bodies, words she had said many times before. It's happening again, only this time, the words are coming from Max. "I love you!"

The declaration catches Helen off guard, wondering if Max really means it or if he's only saying it because he's in a sex-induced haze. She doesn't have much time to overthink it. One of Max's hands massages her breast, the other rubbing circles with his thumb between her legs, making Helen's body shake and explode with pleasure. She steadies her palms on Max's chest until she comes back down from her high, then he flips them over to do the rest of the heavy lifting.

God, Max missed this! Being here feels so right. By this point, they know every detail of each other's bodies: every scar, every tattoo, every curve and contour. There might be one or two more wrinkles due to the passage of time, but she's still the same Helen. She's still his Helen!

It's been so long since they've been together that it doesn't take much to bring Max to the edge, simply Helen's moans of pleasure and hands running all over his body. "Helen, I— ugh… I'm close. Do you want me to—?" he asks through shuddering gasps, pulling back a little.

"No!" Helen's hands grip his buttcheeks, drawing him closer. "Stay inside me… if that's alright?" It's probably a stupid idea. She feels weird even asking. But Max doesn't seem to have any hesitations about it, probably wants it himself too.

Max's movements become fast and jerky before thrusting hard one final time, collapsing on Helen and groaning into her neck. The feeling of his length pulsating inside her is intoxicating!

They both still for a few moments, the only sound being their ragged breaths cutting through the silence. Max rolls off of Helen, stares at the ceiling for a moment, then glances back over at her. She's dewy with sweat, completely radiant! But instead of a smile, Helen's face is plastered with regret. The reality of what happened finally hits Max. What the hell did we just get ourselves into?

9:30 p.m.

Max and Helen clean themselves up, get dressed while awkwardly avoiding eye contact, and go downstairs to find some sustenance. Since he came straight from the airport, Max hasn't eaten dinner yet. The late hour paired with the time difference and their physical activities has him famished. While Max scarfs down some reheated leftovers, Helen clears the broken pieces of her teacup and saucer from the sink. She feels Max's eyes on her as she throws the pieces in the waste bin, but she can't explain the cup is smashed because she was upset about him.

Once Max has finished eating, Helen offers to take his plate, but everything seems stiff and a little too polite. She places the dish in the sink and stands there for a minute, not looking forward to what's coming. Max walks up behind her, not touching her, but hovering three inches away. His voice in her ear makes Helen melt and shudder all at once.

"I guess we should talk about it, huh?"

Trying to relax her tense shoulders, Helen turns around, unprepared for how close Max really is, and it knocks the air from her lungs. "I—" she clears her throat and tries to speak again. "Yes, I suppose we should."

It takes a few seconds, but Max finally realizes he has to move before Helen can go anywhere, so he backs up, nervously rubbing his forehead.

Helen leads Max back to the living room couch, not knowing how to sit or what to do with her hands. So she grabs a pillow and places it on her crisscrossed legs, fiddling with the tassels on the ends to release some nervous energy.

Max sits on the far end of the couch, but rethinks his position and relocates to the ottoman so he can face Helen directly instead. "Helen, that was…" He hunches over and leans his elbows on his knees, taking Helen's hands. "That was incredible!"

Based on his tone and sullen expression, Helen senses there's a "but" coming.

"Being with you is like nothing I've ever felt before." After everything they've been through and finally being so close to repairing what they had, it pains Max to do this. "But where do we go from here? I don't see how this can end happily for either of us."

"I know." Max just moved to Switzerland. Helen can't ask him to come back to London for her, nor would she let him if he tried. "But Max, I'm completely out of my mind for you! Geneva is less than two hours away by plane. We could try to make it work." Helen knows she's grasping at straws. They did long-distance across an ocean for a few months, but that was before Helen broke Max's heart. She's not sure he'd be willing to try that again. And they'd end up feeling the need to pick one location eventually.

Max sits up, pulling his hands back. "Helen, I can't… Luna and I just got settled, and I'm finally prioritizing her the way I need to."

"No, I know. That was an idiotic suggestion." Tears prickle Helen's eyes. She reconciled with Max only to have him ripped away from her again. "Under different circumstances, would you want to try again?" Max's initial hesitation to answer hurts.

"I don't know. It's just…" Max hates himself for feeling this way, "How do we know things would be better this time? I went through a lot of heartache to get over you. I can't put myself through that again." For the first few weeks, other than for work, he couldn't even get out of his pajamas. Although he tried his best to be there for her, his grieving process negatively affected Luna too. She lost the only mother figure she'd ever known. He can't risk Helen walking out on his daughter again. "And I have Luna to think about."

Hearing the little girl's name causes Helen's tears to spill over. It's painful enough knowing she can't have Max back. It's a different kind of pain knowing he's protecting his own daughter from her.

"I'm sorry, Helen. I didn't mean–"

"No, it's alright. I deserved it." Helen wipes the tears from her cheeks. "I didn't just abandon you last year, I abandoned her too. Turns out, Mum was right. I'm no better than my parents."

"No, Helen! Don't say that!"

"Don't try to appease me, Max. It's true."

"But you said it yourself. You're going to therapy. You're doing the work. You're getting healing. The generational trauma can end here."

The faith Max has in her brings Helen some comfort, but it's not enough. "Only not together with you?"

Max waits a second too long before saying, "I guess? At least not under our current living situation."

Helen sniffles back a few more tears, finally accepting that she has to let Max go once and for all. "Okay."

"I don't want this, Helen. I really don't." Max reaches out for Helen's hands again. "But I think it's what's best for everyone."

"I know." Helen leans forward to match Max's position, resting her forehead on his. "If we gave 'us' another go, I'd do right by you this time 'round."

There are a few things Max would do differently as well, starting with being a better listener. "Me too."

Both of them are silent for a few moments, knowing once they pull away, that's it, they're done.

Max's phone buzzes. "What is it?" Helen nervously asks as he stares at the screen.

"Nothing. I just have to check in for my flight back home tomorrow."

"What time does it leave?"

"10 a.m." Twelve hours from now. "Tomorrow's Father's Day. Well, at least American Father's Day. Switzerland celebrated theirs two weeks ago. But still."

Helen feels a pang of guilt. If she had just answered one of his many phone calls, she wouldn't have pulled him away from his daughter so he could apologize in person. As Max clacks away on the screen, Helen wonders if he got a hotel or if he assumed he'd be sleeping over. "Do you need to stay here tonight?"

"Yeah, uh, if I could, that'd be great. I didn't really get that far in my plans." Weary from the events of the day, and the one-hour time difference on Max's end, they're both ready for bed. Max stands and looks around the room, first at the stairs, then at the couch. "I can sleep down here if you want."

Helen is half-tempted to invite him to stay in their… no, her bed. But she knows that would blur lines even further, and they already crossed one major line earlier. Out of self-preservation, Helen refrains from asking. "Okay. I'll get you some things to make it more comfortable. How about you go brush your teeth? There's a spare in the linen closet."

Max knows this flat backward and forward, but wandering around, particularly without Helen, somehow feels like he's intruding. After he's used the toilet, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth, Max gazes at the bedroom door. There wasn't time to focus much on his surroundings earlier, but he wonders what subtle details Helen changed about it. He wonders if she still sleeps on the left side of the bed. For well over a year after Georgia died, Max still slept on the right. He still does occasionally now that he and Helen are no longer together.

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs and sees Helen making up the couch, Max worries he's making a mistake. He's still in love with her, and she's working on resolving her issues. But trying to restart and sustain a relationship when The English Channel and France are separating them doesn't make sense. If they're meant to be, maybe the universe will send him a sign.

Helen smoothes the blanket and stands up straight to admire her handiwork. "All set." She tries to give Max a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Thanks." The hesitant way Helen is walking over to him reminds Max of how she stood to greet him at the cafe last week, wanting a hug but too afraid to ask. He opens his arms and welcomes Helen in.

Helen wraps her arms around Max's torso and nuzzles her face against his chest, cherishing the cozy feeling one last time. "If Luna asks about me, would you tell her I love her?"

Max doesn't think he should go out of his way to tell Luna that he saw Helen, but if she brings it up again, giving her Helen's love is the least he can do. "Yeah, of course."

"Would you do me one more favor?" Helen whispers as she presses her ear against Max's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat.

"Anything."

"Leave before I wake up. I don't want to go through saying goodbye again."

Max swallows hard, the pit in his stomach growing with every passing second that brings them closer to the end. "Yeah, sure." Maybe he'll get breakfast in town before his flight. Max tilts Helen's head up, brushing their noses, and leans down for one last kiss. It's soft and slow, but full of passion, longing, and desire, conveying everything they'll never get to say to each other again.

Helen finally breaks the kiss and presses her lips to Max's forehead instead. "Goodbye, Max."

"Goodbye." Max holds onto Helen's fingers until she slips away. "Helen?"

Gripping the stair beam for support, Helen partially turns her head to glance at Max from the corner of her eye, knowing that if she looks at him directly, it'll only be more painful. "Yes?"

"I meant what I said last year. I'm always gonna love you. No matter what. Even if…" Back then, the "even if" meant something different, even if her speech never fully came back. But it could be applied to any situation. In this case, he means "even if we can't be together."

Helen gazes at Max fully. A pained smile is plastered on his face and the whites of his eyes are reddened with tears, making the greenish-blue irises stand out. The sight breaks Helen's heart, and she has to choke back a sob. "And I, you." It takes all the strength she possesses to continue trekking up the stairs alone.