Helena Rush had no idea where in the name of God she'd gone wrong. When they had first gotten together, it was so amazing, so passionate. Now it was just ... nothing. The love was there - it always would be, for Helena at least - but the passion was gone. Now it was just him, her and his drugs and booze. Even now, as she lay in bed, with the early morning sunlight streaming the blinds of their bedroom, she couldn't help but wonder if she could salvage this relationship. Lying in their bed, she glanced over at him, and a sad smile crossed her face. Would they ever be as close as that again??
A sigh escaped her, and she stood, walking to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she emerged, and quickly dressed in her usual black tanktop and miniskirt with a red stripe in it, and ballet flats, before running a brush through her dark hair, and slipping downstairs, making coffee for herseld, and remembering the days when they were happy.
A sigh escaped her, and she stood, walking to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she emerged, and quickly dressed in her usual black tanktop and miniskirt with a red stripe in it, and ballet flats, before running a brush through her dark hair, and slipping downstairs, making coffee for herseld, and remembering the days when they were happy.
