The Light That Wraps You

In Raleigh, my life became a fairy tale, a dream of a life that I wished I had. But even the most avid of dreamers must wake.

I woke to the sound of Kris in the shower on Friday morning. I would have joined him, but before I could even get out of bed, Vero burst into the room, her dark hair pulled up into a bun and her arms full of what looked to me like dangerous weapons, but to her were only bags crammed full of beauty supplies.

“You better be here to tell me that Flower has made us pancakes,” I grumbled, trying to sink back beneath the covers.

“Nope!” She dumped the bags on the other bed, before whipping the blankets off of me. Lucky for her, I was clothed. “Come on, darling, I’m going to style you today!”

To her surprise, I did not jump for joy. Before I could so much as protest, she had scribbled a note for Kris, grabbed all of her things, and dragged me from the room. The rest of the morning was a whirlwind spent in her hotel room, as she did things to my hair and nails that I hadn’t even known were possible. As a medical woman, I worked with my hands a lot, and to me it didn’t make sense to have long nails nor any varnish on them whatsoever. I only ever wore minimal eye makeup and occasionally chapstick, because to be honest, my job was not glamorous at all, unlike the TV shows that Vero liked to watch. I tried to tell her this as she curled my hair, but she didn’t seem to be listening.

She was talking about Raleigh and how lovely it was. I had to agree with her there; it truly was a beautiful city, and I had to pinch myself repeatedly to convince myself that I was really there. Still, I couldn’t get as much joy out of our impromptu weekend getaway as she could. I still knew what I had to do by the time Sunday arrived.

Living with myself, knowing what I knew, was becoming a constant torment. When I slept, I dreamt of you and all the things you could possibly want to say to Kris. My/your heart broke at the very thought of failing you, of not being able to convey everything between the three of us, and it made me even more nervous. I wanted to tell him soon, but I couldn’t find a time. If I did it before the game, it could mess him up. If I waited until after, he would be angry that I wasted so much valuable time. It was a double-edged blade, already rending me from the inside and out.

When she had finally finished primping me, Vero threw open the wardrobe that was crammed full of her clothes, with just a tiny space left for Fleury’s red carpet suit and shoes. She started pulling out dresses, and holding them up to me. There was a pink one, a dusky gold one that I immediately told her she should wear, a green one, a purple one, and then a black dress that she almost threw back inside.

I chose the black one, stopping her before she could hide it. When in doubt, it was always wise to choose the “little black dress”; not only was it simple and elegant, but it was timeless. It also hid my scar with a higher neckline, which was something none of the other dresses would have done. She was taller than me, but I was curvier, and it hugged every inch of me, the uneven skirt falling just below my knees. With my hair up in a loose curly ponytail, it looked casual but classy, which was what I had been aiming for.

“You look wonderful,” Vero said, sighing. “I have never been able to make that dress look good. It just figures that you would make it amazing! No wonder it seemed like a good idea for me to bring it…” She brightened, realizing I was finally finished. “Ooh, now it’s my turn!”

She finished in record time (without any help from me), donning the gold strapless dress and the suede boots I had worn the day before, lent to her in exchange for a pair of black sling-back heels.

I fastened the straps at the back of my ankle before rising to my feet. “Now what?”

She rolled her eyes, linking her arm with mine. “Now we go to the draft!”

Oh boy.



Being at the All-Star Draft was indescribable. Just being around hockey made me feel closer to you, but this… This was so much more than that. This was everything that I had felt over the years, multiplied.

Rather than a battle between two teams, it was a union, a joining of all teams, coming together to spend time with each other as friends. Rivalries put aside their differences, and I saw Capitals with Penguins, Red Wings with Blackhawks, Flyers with Rangers, Bruins with Canadiens. They were all talking and laughing, setting aside the boundaries made by jerseys and dropping down the lines that separated them on a daily basis. They were men, humans, and they connected that way, rather than by where they lived on a map and what their team’s history was. It was a humbling experience to be a part of it, and I kept you in my thoughts the entire time.

Especially afterwards, when I was afforded the chance to meet some of the players.

The entire time, Vero and I were watching on the edges of our seats, wondering where our Penguins would go--and when. Marc-André eventually went before Kris, picked eighteenth overall by Team Lidstrom. Vero whistled loudly, and I crossed my fingers, hoping Kris would get chosen by the same team. Naturally, he wasn’t. Eric Staal chose Kris twenty-third overall, and I could already hear Fleury’s giggle in my head.

“I don’t like this, having to choose.”

Vero sat back in her seat, shaking her head in amusement. “Yes, it’ll be strange. But think how it would have gone if Sid was here!”

While we waited for the draft to end, Vero got up to use the bathroom and I pulled my phone out of the small purse she leant me, texting Sid. Vero's words had made me think of him, and how difficult this must have been back in Pittsburgh.

How are you?

A minute later, my phone beeped. Surviving :) This is gonna be weird.

I smiled. We miss you.

Tell Tanger to keep his eyes on Lidstrom. He shuts down plays like a beast.

I laughed then. Even injured, Sidney Crosby was still analyzing, still stuck in the game he couldn’t play. Being back in Pittsburgh was probably killing him, even if he was trying hard not to show it. I made a mental note to get him a souvenir, something to let him know that I was thinking about him and his well-being.

Get some rest!

“That’s her,” someone whispered loudly from behind me. I was about to throw my phone back in my purse but now I scrolled through my contacts, pretending to be looking as every inch of me froze up, listening intently.

Vero slid into the seat beside me and started talking about the bathrooms, how they had the most amazing smelling soap. She didn’t immediately notice my sudden tense posture, too busy smelling her palms.

“Which one?”

“The blonde, dummy. The other one is with Fleury.”

Vero certainly heard that, the sound of her boyfriend's name gaining her attention like a radar feed. She sat up straighter, leaning back in her chair. Her dark eyes stared straight ahead, and to anyone around it seemed that she was just intensely watching the draft. I knew better.

“Who is she?”

“Oh, you remember, those pictures from the Winter Classic? Letang was kissing her on the ice, in front of everyone. Even the kids!”

My gaze slid to Vero. Her eyes had moved to me as well and she widened them, noiselessly gesturing for me to do something. I shook my head the tiniest fraction. I would not let two moronic girls ruin my weekend. I would not let them think they were getting to me by addressing them.

“Oh my god, how slutty can you be? Doesn’t she work for them or something? Isn’t that, like…prostitution?”

Vero sighed quietly. I reached out, to grab her, to stop her, but she was already past the point of controlling.

She swiveled to face them, her arm on the back of her seat. I turned as well, unable to stop myself. They were only a few years younger than me, most likely college students. One of them was wearing a Penguins shirt; the other, a Skinner jersey. I frowned. What were they doing in the family section?

“Even if it was prostitution, which is isn’t,” Vero remarked loudly, “she would still make more money than you.”

The girls exchanged a shocked glance, perhaps ready to fire back. A newcomer joined our midst, gracefully intervening at the last moment. A tall blonde in a shimmering silver dress stood in the aisle between our two rows of chairs, smiling prettily at the girls seated behind us.

“I’m sorry, but can I ask who you’re with?”

One of the girls made a face. “Who we’re with?”

“Yes. You see, this is a private seating area, specifically intended for families of the draftees. I’m simply wondering who you’re with, so that I can double-check with our security and make sure that you’re where you are supposed to be.”

Without saying a word, both girls stood and slunk off in the other direction. The woman watched them go, before sighing and shaking her head. She sat in one of their vacated seats, running a hand through her long hair. “I’m so sorry about that. I wish that wasn’t how things were nowadays, but they are.” She smiled at Vero. “How have you been? It’s been a while.”

“You’re telling me! I’m great. This weekend is the highlight of my year.” She laughed. “So far, anyways.”

“Yeah, there’s still a ways to go yet.” She turned her pretty blue eyes on me. “I don’t think we’ve met before! I’m Tanya Staal, Eric's wife. You must be the girl that Jordan called about.”

I blushed. “What did he say?”

“He called to tell Eric that Kris Letang had stolen the girl of his dreams and was bringing her this weekend, and to be extra nice to you. I can only assume that is you.”

Vero snickered. “What did Eric say?”

“He told him to stop being such a girl and then hung up on him.” The three of us laughed. “Really, though. It’s wonderful to meet you. It isn’t often that we get someone among us that isn’t--well, like the girls I just chased away.”

“Among you?”

She waved her hand and said airily, “Oh you know, wives and girlfriends.”

Is that what everyone else saw? I forced myself not to look around, in case there were other women, other family members staring and wondering exactly who I was to the men on the dais--or one man in particular.

“Well, professionally, I’m here at Dan Bylsma’s behest.” They both stared at me, waiting for me to say what they already knew. I smiled slowly. “But, just between us girls, yes, I’m here with Kris.”

Tanya nodded in approval. “Thought so. Once people get used to you, the speculation will lessen. While nobody knows about the two of you, there will be more rumors. It’s better to just get it over with while you can.” She laughed suddenly. “The reveal, I mean. The rest, if you’re lucky, will be a lifelong effort on both your part and his.”

Vero stayed turned around in her seat to chat with Tanya, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I was turned halfway around, so it still appeared I was interested, but like I could also be watching the draft. It was over now; Phil Kessel had been chosen last and had won the car. People were milling about, chatting about the upcoming events, including the draftees in their white and blue jerseys. Any minute now, we would be able to join them.

Tanya’s words shouldn’t have had that much of an effect on me, but with everything going on internally, they did. The reveal. Yes, that’s what it was. I would be revealing to Kris the nature of who I really was, and how much we really had in common, and it would be by no means easy. But as she said, if we were lucky, the resulting payoff would be a lifelong effort, together. Mutual. Shared. That was everything I hoped for with Kris, everything I was certain that he could promise me, something that no one had been able to offer me before. With Kris, it was sink or swim; all or nothing. Every step I took he would take with me.

I owed it to him to end this charade. Tonight, I thought. I had promised myself before, but this was the end of the line. There were only a few seconds left on the clock, and I was down by one. I needed to even the score, so that he and I would be on the same level. After we go back to the hotel, I’m telling him. Yes, maybe it would affect how he performed tomorrow in the SuperSkills competition, and the next day in the game. Ultimately, however, I was certain this was right. This was what I needed to do, for both of us.

“Lux.”

I turned. Tanya and Vero were both standing. I grabbed my purse and stood as well, following them down the steps to the draft platform. Fortunately for us, Kris, Fleury, and Eric were all standing together. Fleury and Eric were laughing at Kris’ expense; apparently, Kris had tripped walking up the steps to his seat. He was pretending to be annoyed, but he was smiling too much to be convincing.

“Hi!” Fleury said brightly, the first to notice us.

Eric wrapped an arm around Tanya’s waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, babe. Hi, Vero, how’s it going?”

“It’s going wonderfully! Or it would be, if you had drafted my Marc.” She frowned. “Now Lux and I will feel conflicted.”

“Not my fault! Nick beat me to him.” He grinned at the two of them, before his eyes found me. “And you must be Lux.” Before I knew enough to take a step back, he was hugging me. I only had a split-second to react; I decided to just go with it, kissing both of his cheeks like we did back home.

I was blushing when he let go of me. “I heard Jordan called you about me.”

“Yep. That was from him, by the way. I’ve been instructed to be nice to you. Hope that did it for you, and you Vero, because tomorrow we’re going to crush the Flower over here.”

Fleury laughed. “You can try! I am wicked fast, like a snow leopard.”

Vero rolled her eyes, but the rest of us laughed. Kris lightly touched my arm, and I moved instinctively over to him. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in. I smiled, but inside, I couldn’t help feeling anxious. Knowing what the night would bring made it difficult to stand beside him and pretend that everything was fine.

“I love this dress,” he murmured, leaning down so I could hear him. “Remind me to thank Vero later.”

“Will we have time?”

He growled softly in the back of his throat and I laughed. The other two guys were talking about Jordan, making fun of him good-naturedly. Vero was gesturing to Tanya, talking about her nails, who was now holding a squirming toddler. I had no idea where he had come from, but judging by the shock of unruly blonde hair on his head, I was guessing he was a Staal.

“Speaking of Jordan,” Kris said, also eavesdropping. “He called me earlier.”

“Did he? And what did he have to say?”

“He told me to pass a message on to Eric and Marc. That’s not the important part. Sid also got in on the call--”

“Oh, I talked to him already.”

Kris frowned. “You did?”

“Oh, yes. During the draft! He told me to tell you to watch out for Lidstrom.”

“Him, too? What do the three of them have to do with you?”

Now it was my turn to frown. “Three of them? Kris, what are you talking about?”

“Oh, hey!” Eric said loudly, interrupting the two of us. I looked up. Several other players had joined our midst. I was hoping one of them might be Tim Thomas, or perhaps Tyler Seguin--I would have loved a chance to see them and ask them how they were doing--but instead, it was Patrick Sharp, Robert Luongo, Jeff Skinner, and Ryan Kesler.

Kris’ hand closed around my arm at the same moment that I realized just who had joined us.

Two of your former teammates were standing feet from me. I had of course, known that someone of them would have to be here. Yours was a talented team, a strong one, and there were bound to be All-Stars in the ranks. But it had never hit me until now, until I was staring Ryan Kesler in the face, pale as a ghost as I realized I would now have to confront them.

And judging by the expression on his face, he had reached the same conclusion.

How--? Oh. Charlene. Of course. She was still invested in the team that had been your family, and she still kept in contact with them. She had to know. She had to have shown them the letter; she probably asked them for advice, asking if she should answer it or not.

Kesler blinked twice, then elbowed Luongo and pointed. Luongo blanched.

Oh god. They know.

And Sid. That’s why he had called Kris. I had told him about Luc, trying so hard to make him feel better after his concussion, and he had somehow figured it all out. I racked my brain, trying to figure out how, but I could barely think; thoughts were running through my head so quickly that they had no form, no meaning, fueled only by panic and the strong desire to bolt.

“Lux?” It was Kris. He was staring at the Canucks in front of us, a dark expression on his face. “Is there a problem?”

“N-no…”

Eric was saying something to Patrick Sharp, the two of them grinning, but Kesler spoke over them and they fell quiet. “Lucinda Girard, right? You’re a doctor.”

Kris’ head was snapping between the two of us, his hair stinging his face as he did. “How do you two know each other?”

“I--” I couldn’t speak. Everyone was listening. Sharp and Eric looked mildly amused, Vero was frowning, and Fleury was still smiling, though his eyes were nervous, like this was some sort of joke he hadn’t gotten yet. Skinner looked frightened, Luongo was frowning, and Kesler appeared shell-shocked, as lost for words as I was.

“Lucinda?”

I looked at Kris. It was one of the few times he had used my real name. I didn’t know what to say. There was no manual, no formula to tell me how to run from this. Everyone was watching and I was rooted to the spot, my mind working overtime, searching through all of the files in my memory to come up with an escape route.

Luongo spoke first. “You’re here with him, aren’t you? Rumor was that the Pens sent a doctor along, but that’s not the whole truth, is it?”

Eric looked to Tanya. “Am I missing something here?” She shushed him, cradling their son to her chest and stroking his hair. She looked genuinely concerned, as if she knew this was an awkward drama that was about to play out, whether we wanted it to or not.

“Wait,” Kesler said, shaking his head. “You’re with Letang?”

Kris bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Fleury laughed uneasily, stepping forward, in case Kris did something irrational. “Okay, clearly there is some sort of misunderstanding here--”

Kesler ignored him. “You haven’t told him, have you? He doesn’t know.”

Kris was looking at me now, teeth almost bared in ferocity, in scared confusion. “Don’t know what, Lux? What is this?”

“I…I…” I was willing to tell him later that night, on my own terms, when I was finally ready. This was unexpected; forced. I couldn’t get the words out, but I couldn’t let Ryan Kesler and Roberto Luongo be the one to tell him. He had to hear it from me. “I should have told you a long time ago…”

I’m carrying your best friend’s heart in my chest.

“Told me what?”

I grabbed his wrist, hard. I started pulling. At first, he didn’t understand; he resisted. I would tell him, yes, my words driven by your teammates, but I would do it away from those prying ears. This was something private, a type of pain not shared by the world, but by us, and I would not let it come to light in the middle of all of those indifferent to the suffering shared by our select handful.

When he caught on, he relented, letting me pull him past the players who called out greetings to him, past the families, past the fans clad in Hurricanes jerseys, past the camera crews and PR workers, past everyone. I took him outside through a back door, so we wouldn’t be bothered by anyone who might recognize him.

The moment the door shut behind us, he pulled himself out of my grip. “Lux, qu’est-ce qui se passe?” He shoved his hair back from his face, frowning at me. “Are you crying?”

Was I? I didn’t even know. I couldn’t feel anything but the quaking inside me, the sound of the truth finally rising free from the earth. “I have to tell you something, and it won’t be easy to hear, Kris, but you have to know, it’s not easy for me to tell you. I’m sorry I waited this long, but I knew it would break your heart, and I didn’t want that on my conscious, I--”

He took a deep breath and I saw him tense, like he was preparing to take the biggest hit of his life. If only he knew.

“Lux,” he said quietly, “Is it someone else?”

“God, no!” I was practically sobbing now, breathless and trembling.

“Well, then tell me. Please. I can’t stand to see you this way.”

It’s not about me anymore, it’s about you. “You say that, but you don’t know!”

“What is it? How do Kesler and Luongo know you?

“This will change everything, Kris. This--I’m not sure what this will mean, for us. You will think of me differently.”

He shrunk away from me, and I could just see the scenarios flashing through his mind. “Why?”

I gulped, wiping my face messily with my hands. “Because of your tattoo.”

He blinked, frowning. “What? What does that have to do with anything?”

I reached up, touching the fabric of the dress that hid my scar. His eyes dropped, lighting with recognition when he realized what I was referring to. “I swear, I didn’t know.”

His eyes, when they rose back to my face, were haunted. “About what?”

Here it was. I was physically pulling myself apart, ripping open my chest yet again to expose to him the heart that wasn’t mine. This was the moment of reckoning, what everything had been building towards. I felt as though I were standing at the edge of a cliff, about to take a step off of it, without a parachute or guarantee of a safe landing; without any way to stop myself.

This is it.

“About Luc.”

He didn’t immediately comprehend. “What about him?”

“It’s him, Kris. I have his heart.”

Silence followed unlike anything I had ever known. I watched as the words sunk into his skin, swimming through his blood and traveling to his brain, where they were slowly processed. They still didn’t click. He let out a desperate, strained chuckle, the sound a collision of both confusion and disbelief. “No. You--that’s not possible.”

“But it is! I wrote a letter to his family, and Charlene, his girlfriend, she--”

“I know who Charlene is!” He snapped. Ah, the rational, medical part of me thought, first there was denial; here comes the anger.

“…she must’ve showed it to Kesler and Luongo,” I finished softly.

He paced frantically, running his fingers through his hair like that would help. His entire face was pale, the only color the two spots of red high in his cheeks. His eyes were bright, frenzied, and when he looked at me, I didn’t recognize him. He had become someone else entirely in the wake of the news that I had just dropped upon him, like a bomb. I took a step back.

“Tell me this is a joke, Lux. This is something sick that you and the guys organized, something that you thought would be funny.”

“It’s not, Kris.” I sobbed harder. “It’s not.”

“It’s not,” he echoed. “Oh god, it’s not. Because you wouldn’t do that, would you? You wouldn’t lie…” He pressed his fists to his eyes, still pacing. “Oh god, this is really happening, isn’t it? This is real.”

“Of course it is!” I sucked in a shaky breath, clenching my fists so hard that my fingers ached. “It was May. There was a terrible accident in his hometown. He was killed immediately--”

“Shut up.”

“--but his heart, it was good, it was healthy, and I was only six hours away in Halifax. So they flew it to me by helicopter, and sent me into an emergency surgery. I’m sorry, Kris, but I was dying--”

“Shut up!” He grabbed me by the arms suddenly, shaking me slightly. I gasped, struggling. “Please. No more. Je ne peux pas faire cela à nouveau. Pas comme cette.”

“Kris--”

“I can’t, Lux.” He let go of me, brushing the tears from his eyes angrily. “I cannot do this.”

“Kris, I tried. Every moment we were together, I tried.”

His face suddenly changed, turning to horror. “Every moment we were together... Oh god, I made love to you! You could have told me, should have told me so many times, but… Why didn’t you? Why?”

“Because I knew you would react this way!” I shouted, shaking my head. “Because I knew you would leave!”

He took a step back. His heart was breaking right in front of my eyes, the pieces slipping through my hands. I had just killed the man I loved, and now…now…? “You called Sid selfish. He told me so.” He said bitterly, brutally, his words shaking with unshed tears. “But did you ever think you could be, too?”

That hurt, perhaps more than anything thus far, zapping straight into me like a jolt from a socket. He was right, though. I had been selfish. I thought that I could keep his heart safe by locking it up with me, but I had only been keeping him a prisoner to a lie. He had every reason to be angry, to hate me.

He was talking. “…this, it is just too much right now. I--I need to go. I need to think, to clear my head.”

“Wait, please.” I reached out to touch him, but he recoiled far from my reach as if he couldn’t even stand to be near me anymore. Fresh tears welled up, following the familiar tracks down my cheeks. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Of course you didn’t. But you did.” He turned and left, nearly running towards the parking lot, away from me and from everyone left inside, probably wondering where we had gone.

Did they all know, now? Had Kesler told them, had Luongo? Were they all whispering about the lies, about the secrets, about how in one fell swoop, I destroyed the one thing I had ever really wanted? Because I knew that now, standing alone in the afternoon sun, crying into my hands. The med school, the ballet, the piano, the good grades, none of it meant anything, not anymore. I would trade it all for one more chance with Kris. Nothing was worth having your heart anymore, nothing was worth me being alive if I couldn’t have love, if I couldn’t have him. It was like tasting the food of the gods and then being forced to eat regularly for the rest of your life; everything would taste of ash, bitter and sorrowful. Now that I had tasted love, real love, nothing else would ever compare.

"Of course you didn't. But you did."

A chilling emptiness took over, as I struggled to breathe against the sobs. They were painful, filling up every inch of me like cold water; I was drowning in them, screaming silently, reaching for the sun. And all I loved, I loved alone.

“Luc,” I choked out, pressing my hand to my chest. Your heart beat a painful dirge, a symphony of such sadness that threatened to overwhelm me. “Luc, I messed it all up. What do I do now? What do I do?”

For one of the first times in my life, you didn’t answer.

The dream had ended; the fairy tale was over. I, consumed by the fire of what lay behind that door in the labyrinth, was finally forced to wake up.