I Was Breathless by the Look in Your Eye

“I've got to go down to the United Center to pick up my gear and sticks. Wanna come?” Jonathan asked as we finished up our lunch at a local cafe.

I haven't seen or heard from Patrick in a month. Jonathan and I have become very close though, we practically hang out everyday. It was a beautiful spring day today and we decided to go out into the city and enjoy the weather. We were now heading inside the United Center and down to the locker rooms. We laughed and joked the whole way down but once we got inside, my gaze drifted to Patrick's stall. He was standing right there. He didn't acknowledge the door opening, or Jonathan saying hello to everyone. I tried my best to stay silent. Everyone knew about what had happened and from what Jonathan told me, gave him lots of shit. They eventually forgave him but they said they wouldn't forget his actions. Sharpie came over and smiled at me, pulling me into a hug.

“How have you been?” He asked quietly.

“Pretty good. Just finishing up college.” I said, returning his smile. Jonathan's stall was, of course, right next to Patrick's. I gave Sharpie one last hug before slowly going over, standing as far away from Patrick as possible.

“Going back to Winnipeg?” Patrick asked Jonathan.

“Yeah. Going back to Buffalo?” Jonathan responded.

“Already did. They all just about ripped my head off.” He said, placing all of his sticks together.

“You deserve it. You don't do shit like that to a woman.” Jonathan said, sending me a glance. You can leave. he mouthed to me.

“I know. I know.” Patrick said with a heavy sigh. “How is she?” He asked. Obviously doesn't know I'm here........

“Fine. Going to school. She's looking for a job now.” Jonathan said. “Her back is healed.” Patrick let out a long sigh and dropped his bag of sticks onto the floor.

“I can't believe I did that. I wish I could take it all back.” Pat said.

“I'm sure you do. You really need to apologize to her. In person.” Jonathan said.

“She'll probably call the cops on me. She fucking hates me. I accused her of cheating, screamed in her face and I hurt her. I'm probably wanted by every fucking mob in Chicago.” Pat said.

“It's better than saying it over the phone. It means more.” Jonathan said, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Tazer. I love her.” Patrick said after a long silence. He threw his gear bag on the floor and stood up, now looking directly at Jonathan. His eyes widened when he saw me and I suddenly wanted to get out.

“My sister's place is down the block. I'll walk home. Bye Jonathan.” I said quickly, pushing past them and out the door. I made it as far as the parking lot before I heard Patrick calling after me. I turned and looked at him, running after me with his large hockey bags in tow. He caught his breath and dropped them onto the ground, standing up straight and looking at me.

“Did you.....hear all of that?” He asked.

“Yeah. I did.” I said, crossing my arms around myself.

“Shayla, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm not that type of guy. I would never lay a hand on you, I swear.” He said, taking a step closer. I moved back in response. His shoulders slumped and his head hung a little more.

“I know you're sorry. It still doesn't change the fact that you hurt me......I believe in second chances......but this is one of those situations where I think you don't truly deserve one.” I said, feeling a sense of confidence. You are not weak. You can do this.

“Shayla, I love you.” He said, looking straight into my eyes. I heard it in the locker room but hearing come from him, looking me in the eyes, made it that much more powerful.

“No, you don't. We dated for six months and we've been broken up for one. You just don't want to be alone. Go find yourself a puck bunny or something. God knows there’s plenty of them.” I said, turning on my heel and walking down the block.

A few minutes later, his red Chevy SUV was driving next to me. Cars were honking angrily and flying past him but he wasn't paying them any attention. He was calling to me, begging me to at least let him drive me home. I was getting blisters from my new shoes so I said yes. The car was so familiar, it almost felt like nothing had changed.

“I told my family......about what I did.” He said, glancing over at me. “My sisters were really pissed. But I don't think I'll ever forget the look on my mom's face.”

“What would you do, if some guy did that to one of your sisters?” I sort of snapped.

“I would kill the fucker.” He said, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I know what I did was bad. Really bad. I didn't realize what I did until I calmed down. I realized how I had not only lost a chance at the Stanley Cup but I also lost a chance with best thing I've ever had. It killed me.” He said.

“It's not easy to forgive someone for that. Someone you trusted.” I said quietly.

“Did you love me?” He asked, pulling up to the large apartment building.

“......yeah, I did......I don't think I've stopped. But I sure as hell don't trust you.” I said, feeling my heart ache.

He nodded slowly and let me out, driving off as I got inside. When I got in the elevator, I let out a long sigh and leaned against the wall. what do I do?