The Reason

“Sean, I can’t take this anymore!” Ashley snapped, shoving his hands away roughly as she grabbed a bag off of her bedroom floor. She had packed it a few weeks ago when it looked like Sean would never change. She had put clothes and a ton of important documents, pictures and other valuable items in it, just in case she thought she’d have to leave, but she had never expected to need it. She never thought he would actually think he would be able to smack her around the way he just did.

“Ashley, please don’t go! I promise I can change!” Sean exclaimed, grabbing her hand. His cold blue eyes met her calm brown ones and she turned away. “Ashley!” he cried, but the only answer he got was a door slamming in his face.

---

Sean sat on his couch, his eyes empty of any emotion, not seeing anything that was in front of him. He still couldn’t believe Ashley had just walked out on him like that. There was a loud knock on the door, but he didn’t answer it.

“Sean, get your ass off of the couch and open the damn door!” Brandon Dubinsky called from the other side. “I know you’re home, you haven’t been to practice in a week!” He pounded on the door again, but Sean continued to ignore him.

“Sean, damn it, we’re going to break this door down if you don’t answer it!” Marc Staal called. Sean mechanically got to his feet, unlocked the door and opened it. “Damn, you look like shit,” Marc commented.

“Go away,” Sean said, and his voice sounded dull. He felt like he was going to fall over if he had to keep standing there, and he started to close the door. Brandon stuck his foot in the doorway.

“Let us in, Sean, we can help,” he said softly. Sean shook his head, but he let go of the door and shuffled back to the couch. He collapsed onto it, holding his head. It had started pounding for the umpteenth time that day, and he couldn’t get it to stop.

“It looks like you haven’t eaten in a while, man. You’re falling apart,” Marc said softly.

“Get out of my house. Go away, I can’t deal with you two right now,” Sean said, the pounding in his head and the aching in his heart getting to him. Neither of his teammates moved; they were both too stunned by his sudden anger to move. “Get out!” he screamed, jumping to his feet. He swayed and fell back onto the couch. Brandon was at his side in a flash, concern written on his face and in his eyes.

“Marc, go close the door and make something to eat,” he said. Marc nodded and trotted off.

“I’m not hungry,” Sean mumbled. “And I thought I told you to get out.”

“You did, but you need us right now, buddy. We’re not leaving until you eat something.” Sean rolled his eyes and glared at Marc as he brought soup and a sandwich into the living room and set it on the table in front of him.

“Please just eat it,” Marc said. Sean picked up the sandwich and took a bite of it to discover that he was hungrier than he thought. He devoured the sandwich and inhaled the soup. He set the empty bowl on the table and turned sheepishly to his friends.

“I’m sorry, guys,” he said remorsefully. “I’m just still not over Ashley leaving.”

“If you want her back, starving yourself won’t help. You have to change your attitude,” Brandon said.

“It won’t be easy, but wouldn’t Ashley be worth it?” Marc added. Sean nodded with a heavy sigh.

“You’re right. I need to change.”

---

“I can’t fucking do this!” Sean screamed, storming out of the locker room. He slammed his fist into the wall just outside of the door again and again and again until it started to bleed, and even afterward, he kept doing it.

“Sean!” Brandon yelled, grabbing his friend’s hand. “Come on, buddy, stop!” Tears were falling down Sean’s cheeks as his anger faded. The adrenaline rush that had helped fuel his anger dissipated and he felt a throbbing in his hand as he sank to the ground. Brandon sat next to him, letting go of his hand and let his friend cry it out on the arena’s floor.

“Avery, what the hell—“ John Tortorella started as he walked out of the locker room. He cut off when he saw Sean’s hand and the tears pouring down the tough guy’s face. He knelt in front of the sobbing forward and watched him for a few minutes. “Avery, look at me,” he said. Sean shook his head stubbornly. “Sean.” The coach had never used the guys’ first names before, and Sean looked up out of pure shock.

“Coach,” he started, but Tortorella held up a hand.

“I think you need some time off. Talk to a counselor or something,” Torts replied. “I’ll personally fund it if I have to, but I’m not letting you back into that locker room until I know that you’re stable enough to handle being in there without flipping out over everything.” Sean nodded sullenly as he stood. He was still shaking, and Brandon took his arm.

“Come on, man, let’s get this hand checked out,” he said, leading Sean down the hallway toward the team doctor’s office.

---

“And, why did this make you so upset?” the therapist asked. Sean was anxious and
annoyed, which was a very bad combination for him.

“I already told you about a hundred times,” he said through gritted teeth. “He called me a man whore, so of course I got offended and cussed him out.” The therapist bobbed her head up and down while writing on her notepad.

“And that’s when you injured your hand?” she asked. He nodded, grinding his teeth. She had seriously asked him these same questions about a hundred times.

“Can we move on from this already? I answered this stuff a lot in the last half hour,” he said. She gazed at him over her glasses.

“First lesson: learn to control your impatience,” she said, a smirk forming on her lips. His jaw dropped and he stared at her for several minutes. “You’re catching flies over there,” she said dryly.

“This was all a test?” he demanded sharply. She nodded, smiling at him. “And I obviously failed it. Maybe this is why Ash left me.” He turned his gaze away from her, staring at the floor. “I’d do anything to get her back. I really miss her. She’s everything to me.” The doctor pulled her glasses off and set the notepad aside.

“I think we’re making progress,” she said, “but that’s the end of our time for this session.” He nodded, shook her hand and left the room.

---

After a few more weeks of therapy, Sean noticed it was easier and easier to control his temper, and he learned how to be patient with people. He was able to smile again, something he hadn’t done much since Ashley had left. He decided that it was time to try and win her back, show her he had changed for the better.

As he drove up to her parents’ house, he wondered if she was even there and if she would talk to him. He got more and more scared as he pulled into the driveway, pulled out a bouquet of red, white and pink roses and walked up the stairs leading to the front door. He rang the doorbell and anxiously waited for an answer.

An elderly woman answered the door, looking Sean up and down. She eyed him with disgust until their eyes met. She saw the pain and concern mixed in his eyes, and she also saw the softness that had appeared with his recent chance.

“You’re here to see Ashley, aren’t you?” she said. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. She led him inside, and he slid off his shoes, shutting the door quietly behind him. “Ashley, there’s someone here to see you.” Ashley walked down the stairs, looking thinner and gaunter than she had been since he’d last seen her. Her eyes hardened as they fell on Sean.

“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly. He swallowed a couple of times, trying to find his voice. Clearing his throat, he was able to speak at last.

“I came to apologize,” he started. She turned to leave. “Wait, please hear me out, please,” he begged, falling to his knees. She turned back to him and was startled to see tears forming in his eyes. “I’m so sorry for what I’ve said and done to you in the past, but I’ve changed, I promise. I changed for the better.” She shook her head, turning away from him again.

“I can’t, Sean. You said this all before,” she said.

“I changed for you, Ashley. I changed because I wanted to be a better person for you,” Sean replied. “But of course you don’t believe me. I don’t blame you. I just want you to know, I’m always here for you, no matter what.” He set the bouquet on a small table by the door, slid his shoes back on and, with one last, longing glance at Ashley, left the small house.

---

Sean sat on his couch in his house, staring at the blank television screen before him. It was all eerily familiar to a time right after she had left him, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to do something. He ran into his kitchen, looking for a knife. He found a good sized one and went to the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and turned the water on, filling the tub with cold water. He went back to the kitchen, throwing ice into the water, and he shut the tap off.

Stripping, he stepped into the tub, the cold making him flinch slightly as he eased himself into the tub. He got his body completely wet and took the knife in his hand. Holding his arm under the water, he tightened his grip on the blade and slid it across his wrist. Wincing, he watched as the blood began to flow from his arm into the water. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he dragged the blade against his arm again.

Once his right arm was covered in a crisscross of cuts, he transferred the blade to his right hand and started on the left arm. He was losing a lot of blood, and he was starting to get dizzy and lightheaded. He let the knife fall from his hand as his eyelids grew heavy and his head fell to his chest…

---

He woke up suddenly, shaking and groggy, wondering what had happened. He looked down and saw the blood and cuts and remembered what he had done. He took the blade and set it on the side of the sink as he drained the icy water from the tub. He stood shakily, using the wall to hold himself up, and turned the water on hot. He let the scalding water pound on his back and felt it sting in the cuts he had made, but the pain took his mind off of the emotional pain he felt.

When the water turned cold, he turned off the tap and grabbed his towel. He dried himself off, bandaged the cuts and put on clean clothes. He tossed the bloodied towel in the washer along with his dirty clothes and washed the knife in the kitchen sink. He heard a frantic knock on the door and went to answer it. Marc and Brandon stood there, worried looks on their faces.

“Thank God you’re okay!” Marc exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. “We called you, like, twenty times and you didn’t answer!”

“I took a nap and then I took a shower. My phone’s been on silent since I left Ashley’s place,” he replied smoothly. “Sorry to worry you guys.”

“We’re just glad you’re all right, man,” Marc said. “Right, Brandon?” Brandon nodded, staring at a spot on Sean’s arm.

“What happened to your arm?” he asked, taking hold of his wrist. Sean flinched, trying to pull his arm away, but Brandon pushed up his sleeve. “What the hell, man?!” He exclaimed, seeing the blood seeping through the bandages.

“Sean, when the fuck did this seem like a good idea?” Marc asked, staring at his friend. Sean avoided his eyes, tears pooling in his own, as Brandon pulled him to the couch and sat him down.

“Dude, this is too fucked up,” Brandon said. “You should talk to someone about this.” Sean shook his head.

“I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t say anything about this. Please don’t make me.” His tears spilled over as he buried his face in his hands and cried. Brandon put a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. He looked at Marc and mouthed ”Bring her in.”
Marc went out into the hallway and pulled Ashley into the room, putting a finger to his lips as he led her to the couch to sit next to Sean. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled his head to her shoulder, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I’m sorry, Sean. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Let me help you through this. I believe that you changed, but I was too stubborn to see it before. Will you forgive me?” Sean looked up at her, his eyes shining.

“I love you,” he said, and he pushed his mouth to hers, pulling her close with his good arm.

---

A few days after the incident, Sean was released from the hospital with weekly therapy appointments and a mended heart. He would get through this mini roadblock because his rock, his love, his life, was with him, and nothing could stand in his way.