Retrouvailles

If Loren had been capable of rational thought, she would’ve answered the first time he called. Instead, she let her emotions get the best of her and spent the next twenty minutes rushing around her hotel room tidying things that didn’t need tidying. She made and unmade her bed four times, dusted the desk and nightstands twice each, wiped down the bathroom counter once, and folded and stashed away the towels three times. Things would’ve been much worse had she been at home—where she’d have much more to busy herself with—rather than stuck in the hotel. Actually, if she was where she was supposed to be, they would’ve been indescribably worse.

Each team representative had been reserved a seat in a club box for each of the weekend’s festivities. Loren had spent roughly thirty minutes in her’s before deciding the skills competition wasn’t worth sitting next to Alan Townsend for any extended period of time for. He’d gotten to talking to her again about god knows what—Loren had ignored him from the beginning. The only noise she’d made all night was when she squealed in excitement over Sean Couturier’s goal in the breakaway challenge. After Patrick Kane had been crowned the winner of that particular event she gathered her things and retired to her room.

She hadn’t been in there ten minutes when her phone rang for the fourth time in twenty-four hours.

“Stop calling me!” she screamed at the phone, which was vibrating it’s way across the desk. “Please, for the love of god, stop calling!”

Although she hadn’t saved Sidney’s number in her new phone, she’d spent ten months looking at those ten digits; she couldn’t forget it if she tried. When it first flashed across her screen she thought it’d been a mistake. She’d poked fun of the size of his fingers a few times—maybe he’d meant to call someone else and pressed her name instead. However, she knew better than that. It wasn’t a mistake, and somewhere in the world Sidney sat on the other end of the call waiting for her to answer.

She couldn’t. Every time she saw the number her stomach sank to the floor and a lump formed in her throat. For six weeks she’d been able to put her guilt on the back burner. If she didn’t think about it, she didn’t feel it. All of that went crashing to the floor the second he called. Sidney had always succeeded in making her feel things she never planned on feeling. Even though she was hundreds, maybe even thousands, of miles away, that hadn’t changed.

Sarah hadn’t been in her life long, but at that moment she wished she had come to Ottawa with her. She’d know exactly what to do and would convince Loren to do it no matter how much she protested. Returning Sidney’s call was ultimately Loren’s only option. Even if she wasn’t ready to spill all of her guts and admit she was in love with him, she owed him an apology. If her departure was wearing on him as much as it’d been wearing on her, a little good news was exactly what he’d need.

“Don’t you dare call me and not answer when I finally grow a pair and call you back,” Loren growled into the phone. It rang five times before his voicemail kicked in. He hadn’t changed the message since she last time she’d called, making her stomach even more uneasy than it already was.

She didn’t think it’d hurt so bad. In her naivety she thought she’d be able to pack her things, start a new life in Philadelphia, and forget the previous ten months of her life. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, though, and those things prevented her from forgetting. If her so-called best friend hadn’t tried to ruin her life, moving on probably would’ve been possible. If it had only been her that had gotten hurt in the process, maybe walking away with things left unsaid would’ve been okay.

Her phone finally vibrated again, but this time only once, signaling she had a new email. Sidney wouldn’t bother to do that so she knew it wasn’t from him. It was from Kris, asking her to meet him at a restaurant a few streets away from her hotel around 10:30. She replied with her agreement and set off to make herself presentable. Stress had never looked good on her.


The first thing Kris noticed was the ring Loren always wore on her left ring finger was missing. Since the day he met her, she hadn’t gone without it. He didn’t know why; he didn’t know what kind of significance it held or who’d given it to her, only that she didn’t go a day without wearing it. When she sat down at the table he’d reserved without it on, he knew something had happened.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her eyes cast downward.

“It’s okay. Everything all right?”

“What?” she asked, finally bringing her eyes up to meet him. “Of course.”

Kris nodded, deciding not to press the issue. Their dinner was to tie up loose ends, not for him to play therapist, even if he wanted to. Six weeks probably didn’t seem like a long time to most people, but Kris knew better than anyone that a lot could happen in that amount of time. People could change from one day to the next. Just because Loren would’ve confided in him back in Pittsburgh, before everything went down the drain, didn’t mean she would now.

So he decided to study her, watch her body language. If she was uncomfortable, he’d offer her an out. If she seemed okay, he’d tell her everything he’d kept to himself. The woman across from him was tricky, though. She made a living wearing her poker face. She’d tricked the press into thinking whatever Shero and Lemieux wanted them to think for ten months. If anyone was able to lie her way out of a situation simply with body language, it was Loren.

But beneath her professional facade there was a real person. Loren wasn’t a good liar except when it came to her career and Kris had made quick work of figuring out what gave her away. It was easy: she blinked a lot. When she’d lie, she’d wipe her eyes to distract whoever was watching her. Most people would assume she had something in her eye or her allergies were acting up, but not Kris.

“So you can skate backwards pretty fast,” Loren said, hoping small talk would excuse her from the conversation Kris was itching to have.

Kris laughed softly. “Sure, I guess.”

“That Patrick Kane is something else, huh?”

Kris shrugged, unsure of what to say. Patrick Kane wasn’t what he’d invited Loren to dinner to talk about, yet she wasn’t budging.

Finally she gave in, sighing heavily as she set her menu on the table. “All right, fine, let’s do this your way. What do you want to talk about?”

“Why did you leave?”

“Because I got fired and I needed a job,” Loren answered.

“Why didn’t you get another job in Pittsburgh?”

She squirmed in her seat. “Because the Flyers offered me a lot of money—”

“You’re lying,” Kris accused. Loren promptly stopped talking and stared at him. “You keep blinking. You blink a lot when you lie.”

“And you’re an idiot,” she fired back; Kris merely smirked. “What do you want me to say, Kris? I couldn’t stay there and face you guys. I made a complete mess of my life and Philly gave me an out.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was.” A waitress sauntered over and took their drink orders: a water and lemon for Kris, a mint julep for Loren. “I could’ve—”

“Quit drinking.”

“What?”

“Have you had one non-alcoholic drink since you got here?”

Loren huffed. “Have you minded your own business since you got here?”

“I’m just saying.”

“I like to drink, so what?”

“You might like to drink too much.”

“Kris, honestly—”

He held his hands in front of him. “I’m just saying, Loren.”

The waitress returned with their drinks but Loren didn’t touch hers. Whether or not Kris had a legitimate point, she didn’t want to give in to his accusations. He’d made her self-conscious and she didn’t like that.

“I came here to apologize, Kris, not to be patronized.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he replied.

Loren scoffed. “What happened—which was my fault—could’ve turned into a real shit show. I put you and Sidney and Jordan in a situation you never should’ve been in. It wasn’t fair to any of you.”

“I don’t know why you think it’s your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Stop defending me,” she snapped. “You don’t know what happened between me and Rhea.”

“I don’t have to. What Robbie did was childish and pathetic and you didn’t deserve it.”

Loren shook her head. “I did. I deserved all of it.”

Kris couldn’t contain his frustration anymore. “What could you have possibly done to justify losing your job and your friends turning against you? What you do for a living doesn’t define who you are, Loren. Just because you worked for Sid didn’t make you fair game. She had no right—”

“Stop,” Loren begged. Kris could barely hear her over the sounds of the restaurant and it caught him off-guard. “Please, just stop.”

“You’re hurting, Loren, and I get that—”

“You don’t get it!” she snapped. “You have no idea how this feels.”

He did, but he didn’t bother to argue with her over something so trivial. The last thing either of them wanted was another fruitless argument.

“Then tell me.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“Because—” Loren started, but quickly stopped herself. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being nice to me. I almost ruined your life.”

Kris laughed. “That’s a little overdramatic, don’t you think?”

“Is it?”

“Oui,” he nodded. “It was a gossip blog, not the Pittsburgh Tribune. No one was going to pay it any mind.”

“It was important enough to lose my job over.”

“That was really awful. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Loren mumbled. She finally took a large gulp of her drink, not bothering to wince at the very blatant taste of bourbon. “Is this waitress ever going to come back? I’m starving.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

Loren slammed her menu onto the table and looked Kris straight in the eye. “You want the truth, then?”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Leaving tore me apart. When I got to Philly, I barely slept for two weeks. I barely ate and I may have developed a drinking problem. For two weeks I didn’t know who I was. I still don’t. I still have days I don’t want to get out of bed because I’m going to a job I never wanted to have.” She stopped to down the rest of her drink. “I hated working for Sid. I hated every second I spent with that douchebag, but things changed toward the end. I finally felt like I’d gotten it right when it was all ripped away from me.”

Kris didn’t say a word. Nothing came to mind. Everything he’d planned on telling her had just gone out the window so he remained silent.

“I’m over it now…for the most part. I like my job and I like who I work for. There are days I miss Pittsburgh but I’m done being a brat. I can’t have my job back so what’s the point in ruining myself over it?”

“You’re in love, cherie. That’s the point.”

“What are you talking about?”

Kris sighed. “I’m not going to lie to you, Loren: I wanted it to be me, but—” He stopped and took a deep breath. “But you’re in love with Sid. It never would’ve been me.”

“I didn’t—Kris, I had no idea.”

“I know. I’m not blaming either one of you, I just thought you should know.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

A smile graced Kris’s unshaven face. “You don’t have to say anything. We’re good.”


Sidney stared at his phone in disbelief. He figured calling her four times may have been overkill, but once he got over the initial hump that wouldn’t allow him to call at all, he couldn’t stop himself. Then he went overboard, planning scenarios he’d never go through with.

His hands shook so badly he nearly dropped the phone when he finally returned her call. It rang two, three times before she picked up.

“Hello?”

She’d been sleeping. Sidney glanced at the clock on his nightstand: 3:29AM.

“Loren?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s, uh—it’s Sid.”

“I know.”

“Can you talk? I can call back in the morning. Well, it’s technically already the morning but, like, later—”

“I’m awake now.”

“Right. Sorry. I didn’t notice the time.”

“It’s fine.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I got your number—”

“Sidney, stop acting like we’re strangers. I don’t care that you called me in the middle of the night and I don’t care who gave you my number.” She paused. Sidney heard rustling in the background so he figured she was pulling herself out of bed. “Hi, Sidney. It’s nice to hear from you. How have you been? I’ve been great, thanks for asking. How’s your new publicist? I bet—”

“He’s awful.”

“He, huh?” Sidney could hear her smile. “Your brain turn into a slushie yet?”

“No.”

“Matter of time, I guess.” Silence enveloped them. “So, the Flyers are actually pretty nice guys. Who knew?”

“That’s great, Loren. I’m glad they’re treating you well.”

She snorted. “You didn’t mean that at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t care how nice they are. I still hate them.”

“Yeah, I watched some video on YouTube of you calling one of them a pussy. I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth.”

“I’m a hockey player,” he reasoned.

She sighed. “What can I do for you, Sidney?”

He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “I miss you.”

The sound nearly broke Loren’s heart. He sounded so empty, so desperate. Never, in all the time she’d known him, had she heard such a tone come from him. Not even when his first concussion sidelined him did he sound like such a wreck. Immediately, the guilt Loren had been trying to swallow came up like bile, forcing her to realize it’d been lurking in the shadows all along.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, her voice just as damaged as his.

“February 18th.”

“W-what?”

“We come to Philly that day.”

“I know.”

Sidney took a deep breath. “Can I come see you?”

She didn’t answer right away, causing Sidney’s breath to hitch in his throat. Whatever they were, whatever they were going to be or used to be, was driving him inside. They were stuck somewhere in the middle, in unknown territories, and he had no idea how to handle it. There had been girls before Loren but in retrospect they seemed unimportant. They hadn’t lasted very long. Some caved under the pressure of dating such a high-profile athlete; the attention was the only reason the rest had clung to him at all. He didn’t know how Loren would react—working for him and dating him were polar opposites—but he’d be damned if he didn’t stay on board until he found out.

“Sid, I don’t know—”

“Please,” he said hurriedly. “Please, just to talk. I’m not going to drag you back to Pittsburgh or guilt trip you. You have a life in Philadelphia now and I respect that. I just…I need to see you.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Sidney didn’t bother to hide the grin that spread across his face. He dug through his nightstand in search of his planner. Once he found it, he flipped clumsily through the pages. He grabbed a stray pen and circled the 18th a dozen times.

Three weeks. He had exactly three weeks to come up with a plan to win her over.