The next afternoon, Ned closed his store early and went to pick up Edna for their appointment. The boys had choir practice so they did not have to worry about getting a baby sitter.

He found her in her classroom, sitting on the edge of her desk, smoking a cigarette. He was appalled she was smoking in the school but disregarded that.

"Edna, why don't you put out your death stick. We've got to get to our appointment!"

"I'm not going," she said, breathing out, the smoke causing Ned to cough.

"Come on, honey," Ned gently took her cigarette from her and put it out.

Edna responded by lighting up another cigarette and facing the window. She just didn't feel she could do this. She had had enough on her mind lately as it was. She didn't need this. It brought back too many painful memories.

"Edna," Ned said a little sternly. "Put out that cigarette and come on. Don't make me carry you out of this building."

Edna narrowed her eyes and turned around. "You wouldn't dare."

"I have the strength. Don't test me."

Edna rolled her eyes and put out the cigarette, sliding off her desk and walking ahead of Ned. Ned smiled a little, satisfied, but then sighed a little, wearily.

"I'm guessing wanting to come here was not mutual," Reverend Lovejoy said. The way Edna sat with her arms crossed, facing away from Ned made that clear.

"You got that right," Edna muttered.

"Well, Edna, why do you think Ned called me?"

"Why does he ever call you?"

" . . . Good question," he muttered, making Ned raise his eyes. "Why do you think he scheduled this appointment?"

"He told me I've seemed like something was bothering me, but instead of talking it out, he brings us here."

Tim nodded. "Well, we can talk through it here. Ned, can you think of anything you've done to upset Edna?"

"No . . . I haven't done much of anything lately. We've been both so busy with work and the boys . . ."

"Maybe Edna feels neglected," Tim suggested.

Ned frowned. "Is this true, Edna?"

Edna's expression softened, and she finally turned to Ned. " . . . Maybe a little. I'm not sure. I've been feeling so strange. I've had a lot on my mind."

"You can tell us about it. You won't be judged here," Tim said with an encouraging smile.

Edna took a deep breath. She knew she needed to let her feelings out if they were going to get anywhere. "Well . . . I've just felt like I'm not fully satisfied with my life, and I don't know why. All my life I've just wanted a husband and a family. Now I have it. I should be perfectly happy, and I am happy . . . I just . . ." she sighed, getting confused again.

"It's true that you have a family, but being a woman, maybe you want a child of your own?"

"Well, of course I do," Edna said as if it was obvious.

"You never told me this," Ned said.

"I didn't want to be a bother. You already have two boys . . . "

"I always want to know what you're feeling."

"So you have felt neglected, and you want a baby. Is that all?" Tim asked.

"I don't know. I've just been unhappy for so long; maybe I'm incapable of being truly happy."

"Nonsense!"

"Wait just a ding dong diddly minute," Ned interrupted. "How does this explain your wedding ring disappearing?" This was just bothering Ned so badly, he couldn't help bring it up again.

Hearing that hit Edna hard, being smacked in the face with her antics as of late, and she started sobbing.

"Um . . . How about you go let Mrs. Lovejoy comfort you while I talk to your husband? I believe she's here somewhere." Tim opened his office door, only for Helen to fall on her face, having had been eavesdropping. "Oh, this again?" he muttered. His wife grinned sheepishly and waved from the ground. "Found her," he told Edna.

She and Helen walked out of the room, and Tim sat back behind his desk. He asked Ned to elaborate on the disappearing ring. Ned began to tell the reverend what had been going on lately.

"Ned . . ." Tim said slowly. "I really hate to tell you this, but I think your wife is being unfaithful."

"What?!" Ned gasped, then sighed. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't suspected it." He put his head in his hands.

Edna was sitting on the front pew of the church, wiping her tears in silence. Helen sat on her knees beside Edna and said, "I was right, wasn't I? You've been cheating on your husband!"

"Helen, not now . . . "

Helen smirked a little. "That's all the answer I need."

"You're a lousy comforter," Edna crossed her arms.

"How am I supposed to comfort an unfaithful wife?"

"If you knew my whole story, you'd be more sympathetic."

"Well, there's only so much you can hear through a door," Helen chuckled. Edna clenched her fist and frowned. Helen continued. "You know, it was only a matter of time before you cheated. I'm surprised you held out this long!"

Edna clenched her teeth and refrained from socking Mrs. Lovejoy right in the nose. "I'm walking home," she said flatly.

Ned had decided to be as calm as he could about this. After all, he had heard Edna spill her feelings. He knew what had probably led to such behavior, and he felt it was probably partly his own fault.

When he and Tim walked out of his office, Ned asked where Edna was. When Mrs. Lovejoy answered him, Tim frowned. "Helen, what did you do?" When his wife shrugged innocently, he rolled his eyes. He turned to Ned. "I wish you luck."

"Thanks, rev. I'll give you a call if I run into another pickle."

"I'm sure you will."

Ned confronted Edna about the problem that night, and she assured him that she had ended it with Seymour. It didn't mean her feelings for him were gone, but she couldn't help those. She had pushed them down before; she could do it again.

She had worked so hard to get what she had now; she couldn't give it up now. She needed to stay where it was safe. She had everything she needed here.

Ned was going to give her another chance, of course. He loved Edna and trusted her. He wanted to do his best to make and keep her happy.

"From now on, Saturdays are your day. You get to pick how we spend it! As long as it's appropriate," he chuckled.

Edna smiled. Maybe more time together would solve this.

"And if you really want to have a child . . ." Ned took a deep breath. "I'd love to have one with you."

Edna's eyes lit up. She had been wanting to have one for years now. Now that she was settled, she could finally have one. "Do you really mean it?"

Ned nodded. "I think a little one would be nice . . . "

Edna smiled and kissed Ned fully on the lips. He pulled away, chuckling. "Better lock the door first. Wouldn't want the boys walking in on us!"

Edna smirked and sat back, pulling her gown skirt up a little, seductively waiting for Ned.

"Oh," Ned said softly, seeing Edna. "You beautiful temptress . . ." he sat beside her, kissing her lips.

Weeks went by, and things started to go back to how they were before. Edna had swallowed all of her feelings for Seymour, pushing them far down. She only looked at his surface, allowing herself to be less than kind to him on occasions and almost always sarcastic.

Seymour, however, had no one to take his mind off things. His mother used to keep his mind off Edna; now she was gone. Edna had helped him with his mother's death; now Edna was gone. It was just Seymour left—all alone, with merely his job.

Maybe if I go back to the beginning, I can sort out my life. Maybe I could go back to the orphanage . . . Seymour looked at his gas gauge.Nope, not enough gas to get to Capitol City . . . I know . . . He decided to get his motorcycle out of storage again. Nobody would stop him this time. There was no one left who cared about him. He packed a few belongings for his trip, including the pocket watch with his mother and Edna's pictures in it. He was almost reluctant to take it, but he could at least pretend he was loved.

The next day after school, he left a note saying he was leaving on his desk and nothing else. He slipped on his old leather jacket and rode off on his motorcycle. He suddenly felt the need for speed. He figured if he died on the way to Capitol City, it would be no one's loss—might as well enjoy the ride.

Armin Tamzarian was starting to have a nice ring to it—maybe he would get his name legally changed back. He didn't know what lie ahead of him, but he knew it had to be better than staying in Springfield and suffering.

Around six o'clock, the Flanderses got a phone call. Edna answered.

"Hello?"

"Edna! Turn on the news. Now!"

Bart's voice sounded panicky so Edna thought it must be serious. She tried to put on the news but found the channel blocked. "Really, Ned?" she muttered. "Our channel is blocked! What is it?"

"Motorcycle accident! 20 miles out of town!" Bart said between breaths. "I think it's Seymour!"

"What?! How can you be sure?" Edna's heart was racing quickly.

"It's his old jacket! And that's his face! . . . They're taking him to Shelbyville Hospital!"

That was all Edna needed to know. She hung up and ran for her purse.

"What's the rush?" Ned chuckled.

"Seymour's been in an accident! I have to get to Shelbyville Hospital!"

Ned sighed. "Edna, is it necessary? There are trained doctors there. You can't do anything."

"He has no one. Where is your 'good Samaritan' nature you're always boasting about?"

Ned nodded. "You're right. We'll all go, though." He pushed up his glasses. "Rod, Todd! We're taking a trip!"

"Yay!"

"To see your principal."

"Oh," they groaned a little.

Once they got to the hospital, they were told to sit in the waiting room; they weren't allowed in yet. Edna paced the floor nervously for hours.

"Edna, calm down, darlin'," Ned said gently.

"I can't!" She snapped, going outside for a cigarette.

"Mom's going to smoke one of her death sticks, isn't she?" Todd asked.

"Yes, son. She's in a tizzy right now."

"Why does she think she needs to be here for Principal Skinner? Doesn't he have friends? There are other teachers," Rod said, annoyed.

"Son, it's complicated."

"I'll say."

Once they were allowed to go in Seymour's room, Edna nearly knocked some people over as she barreled through. Ned and his boys followed behind.

She walked slowly to the man's bedside. "Seymour?" she said softly.

"Edna?" he looked up, surprised.

"Thank God, you're alive!" She hugged him best she could. He had two casts and a neck brace.

"Barely," he smiled. He meant that in more ways than one, and Edna seemed to understand. She took his free hand and squeezed it gently. "How did you know I was here?"

"The news. I came as quickly as I could. You had me worried sick! What on earth were you doing, Seymour?"

"Going home," he sighed.

"Your home is here . . .Well, not here here but in Springfield!"

"I don't have anything for me there. It's too painful."

Edna noticed his pocket watch on the table beside his bed. She opened it, seeing the old photos, smiling a little, feeling tears start to fall.

Ned steered his boys with him back to the waiting room. He could see the way she looked at Seymour—that concern—it was more than concern, more than worry. It was love.

Edna was well familiar with pain. She'd felt it all of her life, and her marriage with Ned was no exception. It might have relieved some of it, feeling she could found her safe haven, but it wasn't perfect. Ned was always so happy and upbeat, which was great, but she could never be that happy; she didn't feel she had the ability. She loved Ned, but lately she was realizing she still loved Seymour, too. You could only bury feelings for so long before they come back up again.

But she understood Seymour's pain. She remembered when they had once relieved some of each other's pain. Then she sent him into pain again because of her own needs. She did not regret that entirely though because she knew it had been better for her at the time. But she did pity him. He'd only gotten himself into more emotional pain and now physical pain, as well.

He'd been through a lot so maybe he had grown up some. Didn't he deserve a chance?

Edna, you are married. . . she scolded herself. But don't you deserve to be truly happy? Another shot at happiness or stay in your safe place? Either way, you are going to hurt someone, and you may never be happy either way.

"You have me," she finally responded, quietly.

"No, I don't." When her lips touched his, he resisted, refusing to kiss her back. "No. Stop this, Edna. You've hurt me enough."

"You're right." She got up and left his room. It's time to hurt someone else now.

"Edna, darlin'," Ned started to say. "I . . . I saw the way you look at him. I don't know if you've ever looked at me that way."

Edna silently placed her ring in his palm, making his eyes widen.

"I hadn't realized what I had been doing to myself until just recently. You can only suppress feelings for so long. I have to do this for myself. I may regret my decision, but that's something I've grown quite used to." She kissed Ned's cheek. "Goodbye, Ned."

She walked slowly back to Seymour's room, not even shedding a tear. She had no idea if this was the right decision, but she knew Seymour needed her right now, and she couldn't keep doing this to Ned.

Maybe she and Seymour would end up together, maybe not. Maybe she would end up truly happy, but her best guess was that she wouldn't. Her life was full of regret and pain. Now she had hurt yet enough person, while giving another hope, when she knew there was a possibility of hurting him again in the end.

She would just live for the moment, day by day. Tomorrow she may wake up completely regretting her choice or maybe she would feel relief. Months down the road, she may be Mrs. Edna Krabappel-Skinner, or maybe she would be on her knees begging forgiveness from Ned. Only time could tell. She only hoped God would allow things to go right for her—just this once.

Epilogue—

"Finally—I can smoke when I want, dress the way I want . . . "Edna twirled around, landing in Seymour's arms, feeling free—like a weight was lifted, a weight she had not even known was there, really. Everything seemed to make sense now, for the moment.

The man chuckled. "As long as your outlandish outfits are for my eyes only."

"Ha! You think I dress for you? I dress for myself."

"But it draws other males' attention."

She shrugged. "They can look, but they can't touch!"

Seymour laughed lightly. "So, what's for dinner?"

"I beg your pardon? Not this again!"

"But Edna, I truly don't know how to cook."

"You can learn!"

"But you cooked for Flanders . . ."

She sighed. "Good point. But you better help around the house in other ways, and you better take me on dates!"

"Slow down, Edna. You think I didn't learn my lesson the first time? I'm going to do my very best to keep you this time."

Edna smiled. "And I'm going to do my very best to stay."

They kissed for a few moments before Edna playfully pushed Seymour over onto his bed and crawled over to him. "Let's do it," she grinned. "Nobody can walk in on us now. We're all alone in this house."

"Indeed we are," Seymour whispered, kissing her again as his hand slid up her skirt.

"Hey, Principal Weiner, hey Mrs. K!"

The couple yelled, startled, and looked at the door to see Bart Simpson.

"Sorry to interrupt," the boy laughed.

"Young man, you knock before entering!" Seymour scolded.

"The door was wide open!" he responded innocently.

"I mean the front door."

"Oh."

"Bart, what do you want?" Edna sighed, sitting up.

"Just wanted to check on you and make sure you're happy now."

"You don't think I'm terrible for leaving Ned?"

"Hey, you do what works best for you. I don't care who you're with as long as it makes you happy. Flanders will get over it. He's a tough guy. You—you're fragile, and you deserve to do what makes you happiest."

"Bart, you're sweet," Edna held out her arms for a hug.

"Ew," Bart shook his head, stepping back.

Edna chuckled. "Thanks for stopping by, Bart, but next time, please knock."

"Yes, ma'am!" Bart saluted and started to walk out the door, but ran back and hugged his teacher, surprising her. "But you are happy, right?" he asked quietly.

"Currently, yes," she hugged the boy back and patted his head.

"Alright. See ya, teach'. See ya, Skin-rash." He smiled and ran out of the room, holding out his arms as he ran, knocking over books on a bookcase. After all, he couldn't come just to be nice; he had to leave his mark.

"Where were we?" Edna smiled.

"I believe I know," Seymour said, laying Edna back, a hand running slowly up to her thigh, causing her to giggle.

"Oh, Seymour." She pulled him close for more kisses.

"I called it!"

"Now, Rod, that's not very nice."

"Sorry . . . I miss our real mommy," the boy pouted.

"I miss her, too, son."

"She was the best mommy ever!" Todd added.

"Indeedly doodly, she was, Todd," Ned smiled sadly.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Rod?"

"Please don't bring us anymore mommies."

Ned pulled his boys close and kissed the top of their heads, not saying a word.

That night, Ned could not sleep. Once again, there was an empty space beside him, but this time had had the discomfort of knowing she was filling a space in someone else's bed. He did what he knew best to do—call Reverend Lovejoy.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice answered.

"Reverend Lovejoy?"

The voice then became annoyed. "No, this is Mrs. Lovejoy. It is one in the morning, Ned. What do you want?"

"Well . . . my wife left me," his voice was quiet.

Helen said nothing more to Ned, but shoved her husband to wake him. "Ned Flanders."

Tim groaned and took the phone. "Hello, Ned."

"Rev . . . I've run into another pickle."

"Of course you have. What is it this time?"

"Edna left me."

Tim became silent, instantly feeling bad for Ned, which was unusual for him.

"She just gave me her ring back and went to Principal Skinner! I don't know what to do. We're not divorced, but we're not together. I . . . I'm losing it, rev!"

"Well, Ned . . . It's best you to give you both some time. Anything could happen. Just try to occupy yourself."

"How?!"

"How did you cope when Maude died?"

"I just about went crazy!"

"Hm . . . Well, Ned, try to get some sleep for now. Take a sleeping pill. Have you ever tried alcohol? That does the trick sometimes."

Ned gasped. "Reverend, that's terrible advice! I'm not just going to drink my days away!"

"Then read your bible or something," Tim said, getting annoyed. He hung up.

Ned sighed. Steady, Neddy. You're going to be alright. If Edna had feelings for another man, it would be wrong of you to keep her here.

He then did the second best thing he knew how to do—he prayed. He prayed that things would get easier for him and his boys—that they would find happiness in each other. He prayed that Edna had made the right choice, and that she would be happy, too. He also sent his wishes to Maude, as he always did in prayer.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face, feeling better after prayer. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but the grey skies had to clear up sometime.