Part 2: In Which Helen Apologizes

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I've gotten very little work done today. My mind has been on this whole Max thing.

If I were to- and I'm not saying I am- be in love with Max...what would that entail? Would it be mutual? Would it be easy? Or would it never come into fruition? Would we crumble shortly after we built our walls together?

I think, of Max and I became an item- that everything would change. Better or worse, I don't know...but I know if it ended, nothing could repair it. Nothing could be undone to patch up our chemistry and work relationship. I'd have to leave. I'd have to go somewhere he wouldn't be. It would kill me no doubt, but I would have to do it for him. Because everything I do and have done is for Max. It's odd, I must admit.

Not knowing how one feels- truly.

I know I feel something for that man. But I don't know if it's love, lust, or compassion? He's a great guy. A great father and friend. It's not hard loving Max, even in the platonic sense. But to love him any deeper than that after everything he's gone through- we've gone through- would difficult. Would we simply resign ourselves to the easy relationship of being a couple but never really changing how we partake in the relationship? Or would we strive to make it something more? Something profoundly complex that one would have thought we were just two strangers who met at a bar and hooked up and by some odd chance stayed together? Would we push to be different outside of work or even in work? Or would remain the same with just small intimate moments?

On the sides of lust, Max is very handsome. Strong, good looking features. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't dreamt of a few trysts with him. But is it mutual? Would he want to sleep with me? Is he even into black women? Could he be? Though Max is so obvious not racist- some people still prefer to date within their race because of the outside influences and personal preference. I mean look at Reynolds. He was a bit of an arse leading Lauren on with sex and then telling her he can't be with her cause she's white. It's fucked up. I don't think Max would necessarily say it- but that doesn't mean there isn't a preconception about it.

Compassion? Of course I'm compassionate in the ways of Max. Always. I feel close to him and want to always make sure he knows I'm there for him.

So which is? Is it all three? Or two or one? And what does he feel?

Guilt?

Possibly. The way he hesitated in my office sort of illustrates how he can't move forward just yet because of Georgia's passing. Guilty because I'm someone he and Georgia knew closely before her death? I know I feel guilty.

Why?

Simple.

Because I lived and Georgia died. Granted, she wasn't fairing too well before the accident. She lost a lot of blood among other things. But still. She had Max. She had Luna. A whole future ahead of them and she was the one who died. So yes, I feel guilty every time I'm with Max. Because it shouldn't have happened that way. It shouldn't have happened at all, but it especially shouldn't have ended with Luna losing her Mum. If I would have died, yeah, Max would have felt bad. He would have briefly grieved- but he would have been fine and got over it with the help of his wife and child. The only reason that he's upset with me now by my words- is because he doesn't have Georgia. He wouldn't have her to tell him his friend is fine with God. She wouldn't be there to remind him that I was just another woman who did what she could to help him. If I died today, he would be broken- but not because he loves me or dreams of me. But because I'm the only one who has been with him from the beginning and had pushed him through everything.

A knock on my door draws my attention away from my guilt and thoughts.

Max.

"You're still here? It's after 9." He has Luna strapped to him and his phone in his hand. It goes off and he looks at the screen briefly and then clicks it off.

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