It's Complicated - stydia

19

Three years after.
"Where's daddy?" Topanga said to me, coloring in her flower that I printed off for her. Her hair pulled up in a messy pony tail that she swore she could accomplish by herself. I knelt down, and grabbed her Belle hairbrush from her princess table, and redid her ponytail, so her long hair wasn't a tangled mess anymore.

"He should be back any minute honey, but mommy has to go to work. Claira is on her way okay?" I reassured her standing up as I looked around for my phone.

"Mommy?" She asked me, putting her color crayons down. I found my phone on her table too.

"Yes baby?" She padded over to me and hugged my legs. I bent down and picked her up, studying my little three year old.

"I love you." She said kissing my cheek. I kissed hers back.

"I love you too baby." I sat her back down on the ground.

"Hello?" I heard the familiar voice yell through the house, and the front door slam.

"In here!" I yelled to Claria, the babysitter.

"Hi Claria!" Panga screamed running to her.

"I'll see you two when I get off work, Jordan should be back any second." I said, that small pang in my heart, still hurting me every time I said it. Every time I woke up, lying to myself. I shouldn't be having these childish thoughts. I'm on good ground.

"Bye mommy!" She yelled as I shut the front door. Busy cars buzzed through the slushy iced streets. In front of me, a taxi come to a halt, and Jordan step out telling the man driving to wait.

"Hi baby," He said smiling, and kissing me. I kissed him back, feeling butterflies. The same ones I felt the first time we kissed in his car when I was in highschool.

"Gotta go, busy day." I said, hopping into the taxi, and not giving him a chance to respond.

I knew this whole time that this whole situation was so reckless. After I left Beacon Hills, after I left him, I started over. With Jordan and Topanga. A few months after we all settles down here, Jordan proposed to me. He wanted to give Topanga the best life that he could possibly give her, which was one with a father. Unfortunately, these past few years have been very time consuming, and we haven't found a time to have the wedding.

I don't exactly know how it all fell into place, because I thought that the time line wouldn't add up, but Jordan believed it. I'm too terrified to tell him that Topanga is a gold eyed, brown haired, up turned nose boy's baby. She looks like him. Her eyes are that beautiful golden color, and her nose is upturned. She has a mix of brunette and chestnut locks of hair. Her freckles are placed randomly over her arms and her cheeks.

"Miss?" My thoughts had caught me up yet again, and I was already arrived at my work.

After I knew that I was accepted to NYU, I moved in a heartbeat. The finance was covered by my father, and my home was designed by my mother.

After graduating with my masters in Journalism, due to me actually starting college my junior year, I have managed to become the CEO of books and film authorizations of New York City, New York. I'm basically paid to read books and see if they're worth people's time and money. Usually, they all are. Then again, the ones that I received are read and edited by my employees.

"Miss Martin?" Ashley, my assistant said to me as I walked down the hallway leading to my office. My coffee in her hand.

"For the last time, call me Lydia honey. What is it?" I asked her, and she giggled, handing me my coffee and a rough copy of a book.

"This came today. It was addressed that you read it instead of your employees. The guy who dropped it off said that he would be back in a few minutes to discuss some editing ideas on it." I frowned, never getting a rough copy of a book, and for the random appointment with a person that I don't even know.

"Thank you." I said as she excused herself out of my office. I sat down, shoving my purse under my desk, and putting the rough copy of the book down on my desk.

I opened the blinds that took up nearly a whole wall, and gazed over the city. New York was a good change for me. I still struggle with my supernatural powers, but now that I'm not in a place like Beacon Hills, where everywhere you turned there was a new type of creature lurking in the dark, it's become much easier to contain.

Jordan is a very good person for me. Though we did have our disagreements, when I told him I was pregnant and it was his baby, he did everything he could to be transferred to become an NYPO.

I took a sip of the caramel sweet coffee, and gazed at the cold city streets. Christmas was just around the corner, and I had still not gotten the chance to go out and get Jordan and Panga a present.

I sighed and took a seat in my desk. I grabbed my iPhone out of my bag to see that Claira texted me asking if Panga could have a cookie. I laughed and told her that it's okay if she has one, only if she tries to make her bed first. I smiled and sat my phone down next to the rough copy of the book given to me.

Orange and Blue.

I frowned at such a peculiar title for a book.

I flipped over the title page, and the dedication, and the index, to the prologue, ignoring the text I got back from Claira.

Memories are slippery. They're like words that we try to connect together into strings of thoughts that sometimes we cannot comprehend. She is one of those types of memories. Our friendship, growing and blossoming into something that was almost something to be kept secret. She was my skinny love. I tried- we tried, but for some terrible reason we didn't succeed.

I felt like I was reading something that I had read one thousand times. I pressed on further, wanting to know what all of this was about.

So I'm sorry if you're reading this and expecting to get some amazing love story, when in reality all love is never amazing. It's full of tears, trust issues, and long texts that mean everything, or nothing at all. Being with her is amazing, thrilling, and indescribable. But I have so many other things on my mind then just her. I mean it's high school and the only normal about our high school was coach's daily lectures about how teen pregnancy is awful, or how slow Greenburg is, but he continues to put him on the team. Every year.

It was him. I hurried and flipped to the very last page of the book, and the author listed at the bottom said "S. Stilinski."

My breath was basically stolen out of my lungs. He knew where I was, where I was working. Did he know about Topanga?

I had to keep reading. This book was like a car crash. No matter how bad you wanted to look away, you couldn't. I flipped back to the prologue.

But Lydia and I? We were two people wanting to be together, but knowing that if we made eye contact for too long, the world might end right then and there.

Oh Lydia, what have you done to me?

It was about me. This book was about me. He wrote an entire book about me. How long had he been writing this? Years?

My phone rang. I basically jumped out of my chair to answer it.

"Yes this is Lydia Martin speaking." I tucked my hair behind my ear, and scolded myself for answering the phone too quickly.

"Lydia there's a Stilinski here to see you? It doesn't look like he has an appointment, should I send him off?"

My throat went dry. After these few years, we haven't talked once, I never called, I never texted him or anything. And he's here now?

"This isn't fair." I said quietly.

"Miss?" Ashley asked. I inhaled a large breath, and exhaled just as loud as I thought I would.

"Send him in."