Retrouvailles

It took six games for the Pittsburgh Penguins to officially be eliminated from the playoffs. The series had ended in Philadelphia, with the Flyers celebrating a first-round victory on home ice. They’d dragged the celebration into the locker room on that Sunday afternoon, trying to collect their thoughts before round two and whoever their opponent was going to be.

Loren was happy for them; why wouldn’t she be? They were her friends and they’d played hard. There was no use in being bitter or wasting her time hoping for a different outcome because it wouldn’t change anything. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t started to buy into the hype, the talk that Pittsburgh was the team to beat now with their healthy lineup. She’d been around hockey long enough to know it was unpredictable. However, there was still an aura of ignorance surrounding her, like maybe she knew how to pull the strings but didn’t yet know what they controlled. For years she ignored the sport of hockey all together; this is the sort of thing that happened when she wasn’t looking. There was always an underdog.

It hurt worse than last year, when Loren suffered through the offseason after the Penguins had been eliminated by Tampa Bay. Rhea had been insufferable, and Loren figured that’s what she had to look forward to this summer as well. She steeled herself in anticipation of should-haves and what-ifs, and rehearsed a speech in case Sidney & Co. took it too far. She knew better than to tell them it was just a game, but she knew enough to make them understand there would always be another chance.

Still, just because she’d been through it didn’t make it any easier. While Philadelphia was hooping and hollering, Pittsburgh was down for the count. They’d been deflated, taken by surprise by a team no one had been counting on to take the series. Not with Sidney back. Not with a healthy Malkin, Letang and Staal. Not with Fleury in net. Loren knew Philadelphia’s weaknesses first-hand—she wrote about them for a living—but even she had to admit this wasn’t the outcome she’d been expecting.

She gathered her things without a word, hoping her co-workers were too enthralled in the afternoon’s events to notice her lack of enthusiasm. They’d find out why soon enough, she figured. With nearly a week off between playoff rounds, what else was there to talk about?

Congratulations were in order. Loren took the elevator to ground level before making her way to the outskirts of the arena, which was still overloaded with activity. The fans were much too excited to leave, high off of knocking out their number-one rival. Loren sighed. What have I gotten myself into?

Out of habit, she knocked on the door of the locker room before she entered, already knowing the men on the other side of the door would automatically know who it was. She was the only one who ever knocked.

Max was the first to spot her, being the only one not in the shower, and a knowing smile formed on his face. It was part sympathetic, part well-deserved. He was thrilled to have won, but it drained him both physically and emotionally. To have seen Marc-André, one of his closest friends, play so poorly…well, there weren’t really words for that kind of feeling, even if he was on the winning side.

“Hey, Loren.”

“Hi, Max. Where’s Claude?”

“Gonna put a hurting on him?” Max joked, pulling a plain white t-shirt over his head.

“I can’t have him thinking it’s okay to knock around my boyfriend.”

Max’s expression instantly sobered. “Give him my best, okay?”

“Of course,” Loren replied, pulling him into a hug. Once they broke apart, she held him by the shoulders. “You know he didn’t mean what he said, right?”

“I want to believe that.”

All Loren could do was nod. It wasn’t her responsibility to mend Sidney’s broken relationships and she had no desire to. Whatever happened between him and Max was up to Sidney. While Loren hoped for the best, she wasn’t going to hold her breath.

“Loren!”

She grinned as the other Flyers bounced into the room, all megawatt smiles and contagious energy. Wayne Simmonds forced her into a hug and ruffled her hair; Scott Hartnell gave her a high-five. As more and more people began shuffling into the locker room, Loren felt suffocated by their happiness. She was the only one who didn’t feel it.

Like Max, she knew the consequences of coming to Philadelphia. She wanted to believe she made the right choice, not only for her career but for the relationship with Sidney that wouldn’t have been possible had she gone anywhere else. Taking such a risk was a double-edged sword: she got her Prince Charming but it was tearing her apart. Love was a risk in itself, but she hadn’t asked for this.

No one noticed as she slipped out of the room, making her way to the employee lot. The parking lot was mostly empty by now, her co-workers probably at home celebrating with their families. At heart, they were all fans. They woke up every morning and truly felt blessed to be living their interpretation of the American Dream. There wasn’t a person in the office that didn’t eat, breathe, and sleep Flyers hockey.

Well, except for Loren.

She took one last look around the arena before climbing in her car and sitting, waiting for a text message from Sidney. He hadn’t been able to opt out of the evening flight back to Pittsburgh but he promised her, win or lose, that they’d spend time together before he had to leave. Now Loren wasn’t so sure that was going to be the case. The game had been over for almost an hour and he had yet to contact her. Stop worrying, he’s probably overloaded with media stuff, she kept telling herself, though she wasn’t so sure if that mantra could be trusted.

‘Patient’ wasn’t a word many would use to describe her. Loren simply did not like to wait, which was why it was such a shocker to her that she’d waited for Sidney as long as she had. Although she never could have guessed their relationship would end up like this, she’d given him ten months to come to his senses instead of writing him off immediately and looking for a new job. Pittsburgh had been a long, drawn-out process, but in retrospect she wouldn’t have changed anything about it.

A series of taps on her window jolted her back into reality, as if turning to the left and seeing Sidney’s dejected appearance wouldn’t served as reminder enough. Loren was up and out of the car before the absolutely devastated hockey player on the other side could blink. Her arms were around his neck, crushing and desperate, and he hugged her back. This was the moment he’d been waiting for since losing became reality, since he started telling himself there was always next year with five minutes left in the third period. This was all he’d wanted.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against his neck. “I really thought—”

“Shh,” Sidney told her as he pulled back. “I don’t really want to…”

“Right, right,” Loren nodded, wiping at the few stray tears that leaked from her eyes. She pressed the trunk button on her keyring and helped Sidney load in his gear, not caring that the handful of people that were still occupying the parking lot may recognize him. Apparently he didn’t care, either. “Do you want me to pick up some dinner—”

“No, I just want to sleep.”

His tone was calculated and dismissive, and Loren felt the first pangs of guilt over something she couldn’t control. She was horribly afraid he’d blame this on her, start to resent her because while there were others he could blame, there was no one else for him to physically take it out on. Loren wasn’t sure if the other wives and girlfriends went through this—being punching bags for their guy’s frustration. Something told her they didn’t.

“What time is your—”

“Eight.”

Three hours. Loren sighed, already knowing Sidney would spend those three hours exactly how he said he would: sleeping. There’d be no heart-to-heart, no where-do-we-go-from-here. That’s what she wanted; she could pluck any stranger off the street to be rejected by and argue with.

They hit every red light on Broad Street, forcing them to spend more time together. It was like Pittsburgh all over again—awkward, forced, and suffocating. And Loren was suffocating. There were so many things she wanted to say but couldn’t stomach facing the rejection that was bound to come. Sidney, right now, was unapproachable. He’d been humbled and embarrassed and now he was lost.

“I hate this fucking place.”

It was a comment that was meant to fly under the radar, something personal that Sidney could tuck in his pocket for safe keeping. It hadn’t been meant for Loren’s ears and she knew that so she tried her best not to react.

“What?” Play stupid. Play deaf.

“Nothing,” he muttered, continuing to stare out the window.

Loren didn’t press it any further. The last thing she wanted to do was argue with her boyfriend at a time like this, but she figured after everything they’d gone through, seeing Sidney at his worst wasn’t really an option. She’d seen it a million times before.

She was so tempted to give up, to throw in the towel and tell Sidney that it wasn’t anything personal but she just couldn’t do it anymore. Even though they’d only been together a few months, it felt like eons to her. There’d been no honeymoon period, only more of the same. They argued, they frustrated the hell out of one another, and if it was possible to hate someone as much as you loved them, that’s how Loren would describe their relationship.

“Is Sidney gonna dump you if the Flyers knock ‘em out?”

Sarah had asked her that weeks ago and Loren hadn’t thought about a proper answer. She’d responded with a “probably” but as a joke. Now she was wondering the same thing. They’d made a deal not to talk about playoffs. They didn’t want to run the risk of them affecting their relationship. Now Loren was knee-deep in playoff grime with no way to wash it off.

“Should I use my vacation time?”

Sidney shrugged. “Do whatever you want.”

“Well, do you want to go somewhere?”

Another shrug.

Loren didn’t ask again, just drove the rest of the way to her building. It was breaking her back to play the role of the sympathetic girlfriend. She felt sorry for him, of course, but if he was looking for pity he’d come to the wrong person. She’d never pitied him before—not when his concussion was threatening his career and not now, when his team had been fairly knocked out of the playoffs. He’d shown such fight when dealing with his injury. Where was that Sidney now? All she was trying to do was help. Couldn’t he see that?

But she’d never understand it—the drive of an athlete and the allure of being a champion. Having your name stretched across someone’s back. A stranger. She’d never understand the ache associated with losing. Coming so far only to be picked up and transplanted right back at the beginning. She’d never understand the devastation upon realizing it was the end, just like Sidney would never understand what she did. Constantly trying only to be pushed away. Student loans. Not being offered jobs or sponsorships simply because of who she was. Living her life in a way that’d make her mother proud of her, because the most she could do was assume. The tension. Being pulled in a million different directions when all she wanted to do was stay on track.

Sarah was on a call in the hallway when Loren and Sidney appeared. Immediately, she hung up and looked between the two of them.

“It wasn’t important,” she told Loren, who was staring right back.

“Uh, Sidney, this is Sarah. Sarah—”

“Nice to meet you,” he said as he shook her hand.

Sarah forced a smile. “Likewise.”

Loren unlocked her front door and watched Sidney disappear into her apartment. Once he was out of sight, she turned to Sarah who was still watching her. “I have beer” was all she said.

“I’ll come by later,” Loren promised. “I think I have to do some damage control right now.”

She tried to be quiet as she shut the door behind her. The turning of the lock sounded like an atomic bomb and she cringed. Taking a quick look around the apartment, she tossed her keys onto the counter and sighed. Sidney had left his shoes next to the couch; Loren did the same.

The atmosphere seemed to shift the closer Loren got to her bedroom. Everything felt heavier, like the weight of the world was contained in that single room. Upon entering, she instantly knew why. There was her boyfriend, staring at the ceiling with tear-stained cheeks. His face was flushed and he made no attempt to fix his appearance when he heard her come in.

“Sidney…”

He felt the mattress sink and a cool hand push his hair back. He struggled to keep his hands at his sides as they itched to be intertwined with Loren’s. He closed his eyes, silently praying for the strength to keep it together because this wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the ending everyone had written, but now…

“This isn’t fair,” he choked out.

Loren pressed her lips to his forehead. “I know, baby.”

“Everyone said—”

“Don’t,” Loren said. “Don’t torture yourself over this. Please.”

He nodded, knowing she was right. “Let’s go somewhere. Just us.”

“Where do you want to go?” she asked. She’d stripped down to just her underwear and a t-shirt and slipped under Sidney’s arm. Like clockwork, he pulled her even closer against him, fitting her to his side like a glove.

“Anywhere.”

“I’ll talk to Brian tomorrow and see when I can get the week off, okay?” Sidney nodded, pressing a kiss to her lips. “How about you decide where we go? Maybe Marc-André can suggest someplace nice?”

“Okay.”

“Get some sleep, babe. I’ll wake you up around seven.”

Sidney dozed off to the feeling of his girlfriend tracing circles on his hip. His head was still swimming and his chest was still heavy, but at least he had his optimism back. Loren, on the other hand, felt like the walls were falling down around her. She could hear just how broken Sidney’s heart was and it was tearing her apart. And to think this was just one of many years they’d go through the same routine—Loren had no idea how she was going to do it. This was what she’d signed up for, however, and she had no intention of backing out. Not now, not anytime soon. Maybe not ever.

Once he was asleep, Loren wriggled out of his grip to fetch a blanket from the hallway closet. She lingered a moment to take in how peaceful he looked now, instead of broken and pained, before she spread it over his sleeping frame. Just as she was about to move around to the other side of the bed to slip in next to him, Sidney grabbed her wrist and held her in place.

“Lo?” he asked, eyes still closed.

“Hmm?”

His eyes opened slowly, locking directly on hers. Instantly, Loren felt the breath get sucked from her lungs. “I…I love you.”