Changing Memories

4 - Comparison

Chapter 4 - Comparison 

Cuddling Henry was different now. In his arms, she felt safe. Loved. She always thought that he was the man of her dreams, that one no one else would be able to treat her the same way he did. He always told her how amazing she was, how lucky he was to have a woman like her in his life, how he didn't understand how he got someone so perfect for him. Normally she'd scoff, respond by telling him how amazing he was, tell him how lucky she was to have a man like him in her life, how she didn't understand how she got someone so perfect for her.

But she also felt conflicted. She loved Peter Parker at one point in her life. He was her "rock" and it pained her to say that she missed the foundation that he provided. She looked up towards her raven-haired husband, but she couldn't understand how she never remembered Peter.

Peter Parker, her first love. Peter Parker, her first proper friend. If only Strange hasn't cast that stupid spell. If only Peter had let them work out something else.

Peter Parker meant something so dear to her, but he was just a high school thing - just her first boyfriend. He couldn't, shouldn't compare to a husband of over 25 years.

But then why did it hurt her so much? Why did it hurt her so much to know that he came back and chose to leave? Why did it hurt her so much that over the past 40 years he could have come back and said just a simple hello and he didn't? Why did it hurt so much to feel this?

What was it that she felt?

Anger? Was she angry that the brunette came back into their lives for only for a few minutes, only for a cup of coffee? Was she angry that she never remembered him? Was she angry that she didn't figure it out, like she said she would? Was she angry that he broke his promise? Was she angry at everyone for forgetting Peter?

It pained her that the answer was 'yes' to every single one of those questions. Yes, she was angry. So so angry.

Was it hurt? Was she hurt that Peter came back and left? Was she hurt that Peter became less than a memory to her?

Yes.

Eventually, MJ decided that no few words could sum up the intense emotion that she was feeling. Anger. Hurt. Confusion. They couldn't each describe the emotion.

"Henry," She called, looking up to her husband. He carefully pushed some locks of her hair behind her ear, the classic movie hair tuck, sending a shudder through MJ. It was small things like that that made her feel like a queen. Then he nodded for her to continue. "I love you." She told him. It was true, she did. Her heart still beat in sync with the old man, her flame.

He smiled weakly at her words. "I love you too babe." He responded, lifting his pinkie finger up. She chuckled, remembering their old thing.

She raised her pinkie to his, swearing it. Locking the truth in.

She really did love Henry Allen.

She retracted her finger and stared at her love. "Babe?"

"Yes?"

"No one hurt me and Ned." She told him. Henry stared at her, instantly understanding what she was referring to.

"What do you mean?" He asked. "You guys were in terrible shape afterwards."

"There was a storm in Queens that week. It happened a couple days before we were found."

And so began the lie that she told her husband. She had lied to him before - of course she had - but nothing as big as the lie she was telling right now. Nothing as important.