Helena Wells-Quinzel is H.G. Wells (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} indelibleink) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} makebelievelog, |
"Thank you, I do appreciate that." It wasn't going to be easy moving rooms, especially now that Myka was gone and it was uncertain whether she'd see her here again. Of course she knew the possibility was there, but the chances of Myka remembering having been here were a bit slimmer. Some remembered, some did not. Helena was willing to bet that if Myka showed up here again, she wouldn't remember her experience here. It was how things worked in Helena's life, after all.
"Yes, I do." Tea was a necessity right now. Though really Helena wanted something stronger than tea, but she would stick to the non-alcoholic end of things right now. "The engagement ring I gave her got left here," she said after a moment. And saying it out loud only caused her tears to increase. It was indeed best that Helena was crying, she was letting herself feel even if all she wanted to do was put her walls back up and keep everyone out. She knew things would be okay again. She had lived without Myka for the majority of her extended life, she could learn how to accept the current situation.
But that was the trick. Helena had taken one hundred and twenty years to accept Christina's death, and she was still in the attempting to accept it stage. Acceptance was not something Helena came by easily, though she had long accepted that her life wouldn't give her a happy ending. Even the whole Warehouse agent track record for quality and length of life aside, people like Helena rarely found and kept happiness. And for Helena, happiness had come in small patches. She would need to learn to just live with a broken heart because she highly doubted it could be put back together.