They would have argued every day.
She’d probably say something against how he preferred the closed windows, with the drapes concealing all the glorious sunshine the room can take up in the morning while she already begins to make the bed and he was still in it.
He would have complained back since he believed she shops for plants too much, and the garden was getting too cramped in the backyard. Then, she would remind him that his memory was way more constricted because he forgets that it’s his turn to wash the dishes today, and their little boy was going to be late again for class.
Springs would have been fun in the chateau his grandfather Jacques owns in Paris, and their summers would be busy. He could see her making a fuss each humid mid noon since the Orchids she propagated were slightly drying up and he was just standing there, laughing, instead of giving her a hand and she’d say she was glad their son didn’t inherit his poor gardening skills.
Autumns could be all radio, red scarves and Paul Anka crooning “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” in the evening, with their foreheads pressed together and he’d find her eyes at the middle of the verse to read them like he did when they first met.
They would be lazy in the winter. They wouldn’t dare to acknowledge the sun’s presence. She’ll also probably ask why there are too many mistletoes hanging everywhere, and he’d wink and show her an all-knowing grin only she could recognize. Tattered wrapping paper would litter the floor around the tree, and their boy would most likely chant out his gratitude for the gift he just received, like the soft, polite child he is.
They’d just look at him, simply—because everything was already theirs.
But Pierre opened his eyes.
She was actually sitting there at the edge of what seemed like his bed, her head quickly whirling towards his direction. Helena bit her lip, anxious, not wanting to meet his weary gaze, and he was so sure she was holding something awfully familiar in her right hand, and she better give it back.
“L-let go of it,” He darkly rasped, groggily doing his best to lift himself from where he laid. The brunette shook her head, her expression hardening, for the countless time ever since they met again. Her concern was soon guised with a glare, as in a flash, his anti-depressant pills were tossed into the bin beside the nightstand.
“Helena! What the hell was that for?! Those were–”
“You keep swallowing those after a sip from your wine, after a meal, after your body feels like it. What are you trying, Pierre?! I found you in the bathroom, out cold, one of those little devils in the palm of your hands!”
A mirthless chuckle slipped past Pierre’s dry mouth, “So that’s how much it’ll take for you to care about me, huh, ‘Lena?”
“Damn you, Pierre.”
“No, no, I think you got it all wrong, really,” Pierre bitterly laughed, “I hate you. I hate that you just love to barge in and out of my life whenever you want without thinking maybe I take those pills to live, to forget that you ran and you took what was left of me with you.”
“I had no place in your life, for godsakes, Pierre,” Helena coldly rebuked, “And I was already struggling to find my place in my own.”
“You were the one who had an abusive husband. I did my best to fit in yours!”
“Just because you did your best to keep a battered woman doesn’t mean you made it all easier for her to be with you!” She yelled, “Do you even know how hard it was for me to hide my pregnancy for a month, nevertheless make it seem like it was my ex-husband’s?!”
Pierre scowled, “I didn’t tell you to hide our son from me! Not at least for more than twenty years!”
“I wouldn’t have minded—but you weren’t the only one in this household years ago!”
“Which never mattered!”
“Then do you think I was happy?”
Her composure went haywire, because he didn’t know, he doesn’t know. She just wanted to make some things clear. Helena didn’t utter those seven little words to gain the upper hand, or to seem more pitiful than he was. If that situation was a game, she’d quickly admit defeat to let him be the victor, because she knew it was hard for him.
Or maybe she’s being too much of a saint right now, then perhaps it was harder on her.
She grinded her teeth, a piercing pressure stinging her eyes, and her amber orbs began to be clouded in pain. “Do you think I was happy leaving you out there? Do you take me in as a kind of woman who takes joy in her loved ones’ pain? I’m not sadistic, Pierre. And I’m... I’ve never thought of myself as a good mother either.”
Pierre didn’t say anything. He had no clue what she is like as a parent. Besides that he didn’t get to have that opportunity, there was a tiny voice inside his head convincing him she isn’t what she claims herself to be.
The thought surprised him.
Helena breathed heavily, her nails scraping against the sheets. “Why Aiden loved me so much, I’ll never know. Maybe he hates me now, and I won’t blame him, Pierre. He has every right to be. If he doesn’t want to see me again, that’s okay,” She confessed, whilst a hand pounded at her chest and a teary smile encased her lips.
“It’s gonna hurt. But he’s happy. I have no idea why you haven’t fallen in love with another woman yet, but you should. They’d be so lucky. You knew what you were getting into when you loved me, but you kept your chin high. When I loved you, I only ran. Then you bring me here, I’ve not a clue why, but all I would like to say is that I’m sorry you had to be alone...”
Helena recovered her gaze on him, which bordered guilt.
“I’m so sorry you had to meet me.”
That’s when Pierre finally broke.
He had lunged forward, and curved his arms around her motionless figure to lock her there in between. His head fell on top of hers, and his limbs were slightly trembling, the puddle trapped in his eyes melting like butter and dripping down the flushed apples of his cheeks. Helena could only lie there against his chest without a word, or an expression.
Or so she thought she could remain that way.
“I won’t ever regret meeting you, darling.”
Helena shut her eyes stubbornly. “You do.”
“I don’t,” Pierre strengthened his tone, “If I do, then why do you think I stayed alone all these years?”
It hit Helena.
To meet you again, she tearfully thought in awe.
“Doesn’t matter. You don’t need me.”
He pulled her on him tighter. “Then I’ll need those pills again.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“And so are you. I would just like to let you know that the mansion is still as locked and secured just as it was before,” Pierre whispered, “I’m not letting you run. Not again.”
“You’re putting a woman you hate on house arrest eh? That’s a new one.”
“Let me rephrase that. I hate what you did. But why am I making you stay if I don’t love you until now?”
“What are the odds that you honestly don’t?” Helena tersely remarked.
“Then I’ll say it myself. I still love you, Helena. You can try and leave me again for another two decades but I’ll make sure to see you again and I’ll still love you. If I have to meet you on my deathbed, then great, I got to see the love of my life again and apologize for not doing his best to find her and our son before. If she’s still convinced that I haven’t forgiven her, then I would like to tell her right now that I have.”
Helena gasped, tears escaping her denial at last.
“He has?”
Pierre looked down to her, nodding gently with a quiet smile.
“All is forgiven, Hélène.”
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
“I believe you’ve made the itinerary I requested, Mister Laurant?”
Aiden laughed at his fiancée’s antics from where he sat on the family couch. He nodded affirmatively before taking out his phone, joking back, “Why of course, Miss Arendelle. I have it right here.”
“Still got your secretary streak I see,” Elsa chuckled from the other sector of the couch, her fingers occupied with braiding Claire’s hair, “Kindly read it out loud for me, love. Thank you.”
Breakfast has been delectable, as per usual in the Arendelle Residence—and of course, Chef Leonardo is always delighted to see Aiden’s presence around the table whenever he pays the dining hall a visit to ask about how’s the meal he whipped up after the side of pancakes Gerda made. The director and the cook has once more conversed in their foreign language, and just then Anna had a curt moment of realization that her future brother-in-law is actually French.
“From nine to ten, we have to accomplish searching for a venue for the reception. We’ll save eleven for our lunch break, then we got twelve for other miscellaneous discussions and planning. After so, your most awaited appointment.”
Elsa smirked and crossed her legs, knowing what her fiancé is about to announce.
“Our Estate Auction which Heine will be hosting later at three in the afternoon.”
“Estate Auction?” The only redhead resident in the mansion echoed in wonder, arm in arm with Kristoff as she entered the living area. Anna propped herself beside her older sister, “You guys are vouching for a new home?”
“Precisely, for a customized one,” The blond corrected, “We just called it an auction to simplify the term but it’s more like a bid on who gets the skyscraper percentages regarding the construction fees and such. Exciting, right?”
Anna rolled her eyes, snickering, “El, you’re breaking a sweat for that? Why not just split each expense in half? Like, fifty percent of the structure goes to Aiden, the other fifty to you. So you guys can get the blueprints started already.”
“But the auction’s way more fun,” Elsa pouted, squeezing a giggling Claire close.
“A very sneaky move, darl,” Aiden teased, “Honestly, I agree with Anna. I would just like to let you know I’m aware I’ll be losing to you in an instant. I know my limits.”
“Hmph,” The CEO cutely grumbled.
“Oop, looks like we’re crossing that one out,” Anna nervously spoke, focused on her own phone, “That comes in handy. And uh, I’m afraid you’ll need to make some other time adjustments to your schedule today.”
“What?” Elsa frowned, “Why?”
“Yeah, you obviously don’t have your calendar marked. Apparently you’re covering Vogue again,” Anna clicked her tongue, scrolling through the iPhone casually. She skimmed past another posh paragraph, and with a blood curdling scream, she exclaimed, “AND I’M COVERING FORBES!”
“Not your first time, honey, but congrats,” Kristoff smiled, kissing her cheek.
“I take it you’re not thrilled with the schedule changes?” Aiden sheepishly asked.
“February fourteen isn’t too far now, love,” Elsa sighed, “There are still many major arrangements to settle, and I want my list over within the thirtieth of this month.”
“And we’ll do just that, okay?” Aiden stood up, scooting himself nearer to her area on the furniture, “And how long is this pictorial even gonna last? It’s most likely to last only an hour.”
“Double that to two,” Anna proclaimed, “I just reread the email and the cover team wants Mister Laurant...” She trailed off, awkwardly continuing, “Or Mister Storms, with Miss Arendelle this fine morning. Uh, ten o’clock sharp.”
Aiden watched as his fiancée’s face brightened within a second, a little smile bending her lips. She beamed softly at him, squeezing his hand in the process of her excitement. “Well in that case, let’s all take the RS99. NY’s traffic is a menace.”
“Agreed, I’ll tell Kai,” Anna hurried off, “Babe, can you please take my Prada dress out of the wardrobe for me?”
“With your matte green heels?” Asked Kristoff knowingly with a wink.
“You know me so well,” Anna blew him a kiss.
A hyper Claire hopped off the couch and turned to her mother, blue eyes electrified with glee, “Mama? Can I please come?”
“I don’t see why not, sweetie,” Elsa tapped the four year old’s nose, sensing that the child acknowledged how everyone is going places together, “Go on, baby. Get Mister Carrots and your bag.”
“Okay!”
“You sir, however,” She slyly pulled his hand, “Are coming with me. I want to show you something before we head to the photoshoot. Please.”
After hearing an ‘alright’ from Aiden, the blonde eagerly led him upstairs to her room. The Creative Director found himself curiously observing his fiancé who carefully searched for a particular item in her walk-in closet, her smile wrinkling occasionally whenever she pulls out the wrong drawer.
“Need some help there?”
“Not any more,” Elsa sighed in relief, the anonymous object now in her hands. Exiting the secondary large sector of her room, she hid the little token behind her back, scanning his entire presence there for a minute to see if he’s wearing his daily suit.
“Yes, darling?” Aiden questioningly assumed she wanted to ask him something. Awed by only one of his trademark instincts, the blonde slowly pulled him against her, brushing their noses at first before gazing longingly at his mouth. Aiden caught her wish, and closed the gap between them softly.
Her lips coaxed his to deepen the kiss, whilst her hands worked to hang and adjust something underneath his collar.
Parting from their passionate exchange breathlessly, Aiden took the time to grasp at the impressive black office tie clasped around him, his thumb finding a rigid area on the edge. He examined the back, discovering the elaborate ‘Pretty Eyes’ embroidered on the spot.
“Aww, darl. It’s lovely.”
“Think you can wear it for me everyday whenever we’re at work?” Elsa shyly inquired.
Aiden widely grinned, “Of course, love. I was already planning on it. It matches my uniform.”
“Glad it does. And I’ll be the one to untie it from you everyday,” Elsa softly declares, “Because wearing this tie means you’ll always come home. Safe and sound for me. Okay?”
“Oh, darling, you don’t need to worry about that.”
“Well I just wanted to give you this to secure that thought,” Elsa wistfully confessed, looking away for a while, “I don’t know... There’s just something about you that makes you so precious. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Hmm, what could that be?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Elsa teases, pulling on his office tie and planting a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, liking how his arm slipped behind her and nudged her forward.
“Forever is just weeks away, huh?” Aiden smiled, caressing her cheek.
“I know. And I can’t wait.”
To be continued
on the next chapter...