Tell Me It's Not Too Late

He was everything I ever wanted in a man. He was sweet, caring, and protective of me. He was a hockey player, my parents loved him, and he got approval from all of my friends within five minutes of meeting him. He had me wrapped around his finger but I had a hold on him that was even stronger. He lavished me with love and sweet nothings just like a good boyfriend should. So I guess it's understandable that I never saw our break up coming. It came completely out of left field. Like a check from behind, it hits with full force, leaving you confused and no time to brace yourself for the fall. You hit rock bottom with nothing to soften your blow, left with nothing but a heart that barely even beats.

I can explain in detail, all the event of that night, the pain, heartbreak, and utter shock as the words came spewing from Zach's mouth like he didn't know what kind of effect it had on me. It was almost like he didn't care. He just wanted to move on with his life, without me in it. He dropped me like he never cared or loved me. And then he walked away like he wasn't even phased as I begged and pleaded for him to give us another shot. But his Nikes just lead him towards the end of the hall.

I watched him push open the door and when I heard the metal click, it was like he was closing the door to his heart. The hardest part was that it was the beginning of the school year. Our sophomore year in college, his last year attending UND. I had to watch him the rest of the year, walking around with girls as if I never even existed.

Yeah, those last couple months, Zach Parise put me through a lot. But it was nothing like the five years later, when he came storming back, uninvited into my life. And just like when we broke up in college, he turned my world upside down at one of the most inconvenient times in my life.
***

The consistent clicking of my black heels against the tiled floor of my office building, kept me calm as I walked back to my office after meeting with my editor. Excitement ran through my body as I picked my walk up to a brisk pace, eager to spread the news. I reached the hallway of my office, along with my best friend's, Brian Murry. I knocked on the door jamb, letting him know I was there before I scurried into the room and collapsed in his big, leather chair.

I sighed as I sunk back in the leather, content with how my life seemed to be finally getting back on track. It had been awhile since I was able to just sit for a minute and enjoy how successful I was in my life. To be a well paid and respected sports reporter, especially as a female, you had to bust your ass everyday of the week. I had been doing it for the past five years and to say it was paying off was an understatement. I was not only respected but I was the top sports writer at our paper, the St. Paul Pioneer Press. The newspaper was thriving and it only looked like it would be going up which was a good thing for me.

"Guess who gets to be the front page of the sports section this Sunday?" I asked him, flashing a satisfied grin. He rolled his eyes while still looking at his computer screen where he was busy typing his latest article on the Minnesota Vikings loss over the Chicago Bears.

"From what I hear Joe Mauer," He said with a smart ass tone. I grabbed a jolly rancher from his little candy dish and threw it at his head,

"Shut up." I laughed at him, then grabbed a piece of candy that I was actually going to eat.

"So you're going to interview him, huh? Are you going to be able to keep your composure, or do I need to come and make sure you don't jump him?" He asked, his mouth tilting up in a smirk. This time I rolled my eyes at him.

"Whatever. I know you have a man crush on him. And I'm quite professional."

He looked over at me and gave me a pointed look. "Don't give me that look Brian." I glared, playfully at him. "Are you busy for lunch? I want to go celebrate."

"I can't. I have an interview at noon," He informed me, grabbing his notebook and jotting down a couple things on it.

"Who schedules an interview during lunch?" I asked him, utterly confused. Brian rarely did special interviews like that.

"It was the only time that worked for him." He told me, setting the notepad down.

I glanced over it, looking at the first two questions briefly. What is it like being in the same organization as your brother? Is it hard when you, the younger one, is actually in the NHL, while your brother is in the AHL?

I felt my heart skip a beat as I read that, knowing it had some truth for Zach and his brother Jordan. I slowly looked back at Brian who had a nervous look on his face. My eyes returned to his desk where his big calender dominated the surface. I glanced at today's date, November 5th, and written out in big letters was Zach Parise, noon. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at Brian for an explanation.

"Abbie, it was either me or you. I took it so you wouldn't have to. I won't mention you and I doubt he even knows you work here," he told me.

"I doubt that, his mom and mine are still friends," I told him, a little bitterness slipping into my voice.

"Someone had to do it. Just disappear for an hour." He waved me off, going back to typing his story.

I closed my eyes and groaned, leaning back in the chair again. I concentrated on taking deep breaths then sat up to look at the clock. 11:45, I still had time to run out of here before he showed up. But then Brian's phone rang, my gut twisting and I knew it wouldn't be that easy. Because it never was when it came to Zach Parise.

"Brian Murray, St. Paul Pioneer Press. How can I help you?" I watched as he listened with the phone cradled between his head and shoulder as he wrote more questions for my ex-boyfriend. All of a sudden his head shot up and he looked at me.

"Really? Is she okay?" He began franticly digging in his pocket, pulling out his keys.

"I'll be right there." He hung up then looked at me. My gut twisted again, a feeling I was about to get stuck with something I really didn't want to do, ran straight to my core.

"Hell, no." Was my only response to his pleading look.

"Abbie, please. I would do it for you. I'm about to be an uncle. Hell, I'm supposed to be the godfather. I need to be there. She is going to have the baby literally any second. Please, I'll be your bitch for a week." He gave me the puppy dog eyes and pout. All I could do was glare in response.

"No, no, no, no. A million times no. You know how I feel about him. You watched me cry over him for years," I snapped, appalled that he would ever consider asking me to interview Zach.

A knock at the door stopped me from standing up and telling him just how crazy he was. He didn't actually expect me to interview the one man who broke my heart in two? Brian glanced over my shoulder, and then quickly back at me. I didn't have to turn around to know who was in the doorway. I could feel his brown eyes burning into my back. I swallowed loudly, trying to get my heartbeat back to normal. I watched as Brian moved around his desk and over to Zach.

"Zach Parise. Hi I'm Brian Murray. Unfortunately, something has come up and I won't be able to conduct the interview today. But I have a stand in right here who will take great care of you."

I felt every muscle in my body tense up while Brian said good-bye to Zach.

"Abbs, I love you. And thank you, I'll get you something that will make up for your uh.. inconvenience." With that he was down the hall and I was left alone with Zach. I slowly turned towards the door. I kept my eyes trained on the floor where Zach was standing, trying to get the courage to meet his gaze. I slowly worked my eyes over his shoes, to his jeans, up his gray sweater, past the mouth I loved to kiss, to the brown eyes that can make a girl say yes to anything.

"Hi Zach, nice to see you again." Not really. "You can have a seat right here." I said, pointing to the chair I had just been sitting in.

I moved behind Brian's desk and glanced down at his note pad. He had at least, and I mean at least, 100 questions to ask Zach. I knew that this was supposed to be a major article but come on. People in Minnesota don't care that much about some kid who grew up here, skipped to North Dakota, then jetted to New Jersey. Or maybe it was just me who didn't care.

I shuffled some papers around, trying to make room on his extremely cluttered desk. Zach was sitting directly across from me, staring out the window, looking over the slightly frozen Mississippi River, seeming completely at ease. I wished I felt the same. My body seemed to be going into overdrive, my senses were on high alert, sort of like a caffeine high. I clenched my teeth to stop them from chattering. That was how bad it was. Zach had me so on edge that I was shaking.

"Um, I don't know what Brian told you about the article, but it should be front page of the sports section next Sunday. Do you want us to send you a copy in New Jersey?" I asked to break the silence. I tried to act like he was just another interviewee. Another story told, another job done. But I was just bullshitting myself. He turned back towards me and I felt the familiar pull of his brown eyes.

"My parents will keep it and give it to me when I come back this summer." His voice flowed through my body while our eyes stayed focused on each other. I shook my head, and sat down in Brian's chair, crossing my legs.

"I guess I'm just going to start with asking how you have been?" I asked, keeping my green eyes on his despite how hard it was to keep myself focused.

"Are you asking as a reporter or as my Abbie?" He asked. I didn't know whether to be offended that he called me his Abbie or overjoyed. Was I even still his? I mean, when you break up with someone doesn't that mean that sense of ownership is gone?

"Why does it matter?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

"Because there is a different way to respond to both people," He informed me, his mouth tilting up a bit, his dimples subtly coming through. I pressed my lips tightly together. I had always loved his dimples.

"Well, pick who you want me to be," I told him, praying he would pick his Abbie.

"I've been good. The season is going great so far and I like the way the team looks," His brown eyes seemed to harden after that, putting on his hockey player facade. The person his agent and team management told him to be. I nodded, knowing he was telling me this was professional only. I had to suppress the urge to scream. He had only been in the proximity of me for roughly ten minutes and he had successfully set me on edge.

We stayed silent for a little bit after that. I tried to pull myself out of my thoughts enough to focus but I couldn't seem to read Brian's chicken scratch handwriting. My mouth didn't want to open, my tongue didn't want to click against the top of my mouth, and my vocal cords didn't want to work. The minutes passed by slowly and eventually Zach subtly looked at his watch before clearing his throat.

"Abbs, I don't really have a lot of time.." Zach trailed off, lacing and unlacing his fingers, a nervous habit that he obviously hadn't dropped.

"Right, sorry." I grabbed the notebook again and Brian's tape recorder, flipping it on.

It was strictly business after that. I started shooting questions to him, one by one, watching any facial expressions he made. I made more questions so Brian could elaborate on anything that Zach brought up, mostly to look up some stats or some other piece of information about him. I wrote down side notes that he might want to know, like what he was wearing and the way he sat in the chair. It's easier to write a story when you feel like you are in the room with them. The interview process really wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. We laughed and got side tracked once and a while. I would never admit it out loud, but I was bummed when he looked at his watch and stood.

"I have to go. But If there is more questions that you, uh, I mean, he needs, just call me."

"No actually we are done." I stood up. We looked at each other, not sure how to say good-bye. Our usual good-byes were multiple hugs and kisses but this was different. Yet, it wasn't like our last goodbye. That one had been so painful that I started to tear up just by remembering him walk away, not even bothering to wipe the tears off of my face.
***

It was dinner time in the middle of September and I had just finished eating my standard dinner of ramen. A knock sounded at my door, pulling me from my Macroeconomics book. What a shame right? I jumped up, not caring that I wasn't really expecting anyone. I desperately needed a distraction. I reached the door, tugging it open and immediately smiling at the person who stood in front of me.

"Hey you!" I exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. I felt him hesitate, then slowly wrap his arms around me. He gave me a light squeeze and pulled away.

"Hey. Is Krissy here?" He asked, referring to my best friend and college roommate.

"Nah. We have the whole place to ourselves." I laughed and pulled him into the room. I fed him multiple kisses all the while shoving him onto the couch.

"Stop Abbs." Zach pulled me up and off his lap so I was sitting next to him, our bodies barely touching. "I came over because we need to talk."

The four dreaded words in any relationship spewed from his mouth like they held no meaning. They hit my heart, handing me my first bruise of the night and I could tell that it wouldn't be the last. I looked into his eyes, searching for a sign of some sort. Finding no expression at all, I tensed up. He seemed neutral, like Switzerland.

"Oh? About what?" It was a stupid question. Even at the time I knew I was reaching for something that I could never get in my grasp. I was begging for time. To put off the inevitable.

"About you and me. I wanted to talk about this tonight. Before the season kicks into full gear. I don't think this is going to work out anymore." He told me, his eyes dropping when he said the last sentence. Coward.

"Why not?" I asked, the backs of my eyes stinging with tears. I ignored them and looked straight at his face, not breaking eye contact. I told myself, maybe if he saw the tears, he wouldn't go on.

The thought of Zach with any other girl ripped my heart into multiple pieces. Thinking of any other girl getting to kiss him or hug him, or simply be what I am to him, tore me apart inside. I could barely stand the thought of him not with me, let alone holding some other girl. It was too hard to even imagine and now here I was, forced into this situation where it would become a reality.

"I don't want to be with anyone else." I whispered. The lump in my throat started to throb as a single tear rolled down my face. He wiped it away, the only one he would that night.

"I know you don't. But I do."

He said it as if I meant nothing to him. I looked up into his eyes hoping to find a look of sadness or heartbreak. I only found my pathetic reflection in his eyes. He looked at me with a blank expression, telling me all I needed to know. This wasn't hurting him, but it was killing me.
***

I tore my gaze away from Zach, suddenly not being able to look at him anymore. He had ripped my heart out five years ago but I still felt it as if it was yesterday. My wounds were still out in the open and him being so close, felt as if someone was throwing salt on them.

"We are done, so you can go now." I said hoping he would get the hint and leave. He didn't. Instead he reached out for me, taking my hand in his.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his brown eyes filled with the concern I would have killed to see on that night five years ago.

"Nothing just please leave." It was as if he understood that I was thinking about that night. He backed away, letting my hand drop.

"Sorry." he turned to walk towards the door. "I hope you'll come tonight." He whispered, talking about the game.

"I don't think that's a good idea." I replied in the same tone.

He seemed to understand because he walked out of Brian's office, leaving me to stare at his retreating figure once again.