Authors Note: The first post of "A Dylena Story: Dylena, after their break up season six" was chapter 1: Dylan’s POV of this story.  This is chapter 2:  Helena’s POV.  Thank you for reading.

As I drove off I could hear her calling my name. I looked in my rearview mirror and I could see her pleading with me to come back, not to leave her.

I felt like I was being torn in two. My heart wanted to turn around and run back into her arms. My brain was telling me to just go faster, get away from her a quickly as I possibly could. My head was pounding and my chest physically hurt from the internal battle that was going on inside of me.

In my head, I knew it was a mistake to let her back into my life a second time. What did I expect to happen this time? Why did I think it would be any different? After everything she had done. How could I trust her? She used me for my money.

Well, in truth, my mother’s money. But, it still hurt just as deep after what I believed we shared together.

It was humiliating enough, with no one around, to be served those papers. It was more than humiliating to be sitting in that room being accused of sexual harassment by that slimy, pathetic, excuse for a man she called her boyfriend and that bastard of an attorney. But then, as to add insult to humiliating insult, to show that video as proof of it. That video, the one that showed us making love. That is what I thought it was, at least, that is what it was for me. To play it for them and my mother to see as evidence.

All the while she just sat there with her head down not saying a word. Playing, perfectly, the part of the poor and struggling filmmaker who had been taken advantage of by the all-powerful, wealthy and devilish Helena Peabody, whose only motivation for anything in life was sex, apparently.

She wouldn’t even look at me, the coward. I was begging her just to look at me and tell me none of it was true. Every time I asked her and got no response I felt my heart falling apart piece by piece.

Just when it seemed like there was just only one piece left, she looked at me.  For a moment, I felt all the pieces coming back together again. But only for a moment, because then she spoke.  She was looking directly into my eyes when she said those words.

“I never want to see you again”.

Why? Why had I let her back into my life again?  After everything she had done.  After those words she had spoke to me. Why had I trusted her again? 

Oh, dammit all to bloody hell, who am I kidding. I know why. My heart, that’s why.  In my heart, I know I will never love someone as much as I love her.  God, I still remember the first time I saw her.

From that first moment our eyes met I was fascinated by her. It was like she held me captive with just one look. I was so drawn to those eyes, I couldn’t stop looking into them even if I wanted to and, quite frankly, I didn’t want to stop looking into them.

Then my hand met hers, in what should have been a simple handshake between two people meeting for the first time, but for me it was so much more. I had never felt a grip so strong and soft at the same time. It was so warm and inviting, matching her eyes. Her hand felt so perfect in mine I didn’t want to let it go, ever.

I knew right then and there, with just a simple look and a handshake, she wasn’t just holding my hand, she was holding my heart. Dylan Moreland was holding my heart in her hands.

It scared the shit out of me then and it scares the shit out of me now.