Our Goodbye's

It was the most awkward dinner of my life. For the first time in a year he was in the same room as me. I could hear his voice and I swore I could almost smell his cologne. When Steven told the table who I was and my history with James, all hell broke loose. Questions flew left and right at him, but he refused to answer. Bailey eyed me curiously the entire dinner, and my other best friend Clinton just laughed.

“The sexual tension in this room has just risen 50% and it is not because I walked in.” He muttered in a sing-song voice. Bailey laughed and shook her head.

“We can dress you in a Prada suit and gel your hair, then everyone will know you gay and the tension can rise even higher.” She shot back and ignored his playful glare. I tried to laugh along, but my mind was too focused on his table only a few feet away. If everything had gone to plan, I would be sitting next to him right now. I would be the one to cheer him on and I would have a ring on my finger. But after everything that happened, a ring from him would never happen.

“Ash,” Clinton said softly. I looked at him and shrugged.

“Are you okay?” Bailey asked.

“I’m fine guys. It’s been a year, I’m over it.” I replied and tried to make it seem like I was reading the menu, even though I was eavesdropping on the tables’ conversations around me.

“Right because it is totally normal to be over the guy you dated for two years and were engaged to for three months.” Bailey said. Her voice was laced with sarcasm. I glared at her again, but finally gave up and stared at his table. He seemed to be joking around with his teammates and friends. The smile on his face almost gave me butterflies. He looked so happy and not worried about me being in the same room.

All at once it hit me. He was having fun, enjoying himself. The tension and awkwardness that happened when I was at his table was all because of me. James was over me. He moved on.
I pushed my chair out and grabbed my phone. It was all too much and I couldn’t take it. Bailey tried to grab my arm, but I just shook her off.

“I’m just going to get room service.” I whispered and tried to blink back the tears I refused to let ever fall again. With that I pushed my chair in as gently and stared weaving my way through the restaurant packed with extra tables. Right before I was out the doors and on my way to the safety silence of my room, a large body stepped in front of me and almost knocked me over.

“Shit I’m so sorry.” He said without looking at me.

“It’s okay really.” I said and regained my balance. When I looked up I was staring into the eyes of Steve Downie. He stared at me in shock, but before he could say something, I took off. The last thing I needed was to run into one of his friends, but wherever I turned it seemed like I was running into someone I knew.

Just as I was about to leave the restaurant area, he caught my eye. His large body was leaning against the wall and he was talking to a few people. At first I was unnoticed, but fate was out to screw me. James looked straight at me and I swore I saw a look of hurt in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

She ran into Downie almost on cue. It was the perfect, most Ashton like, thing to happen. Before he could say hello or even recognize her, she took off towards the overly large lobby. While she waited for a group of people to pass, her head turned towards me. Everything seemed to freeze as I stared right back. Our eyes met for the second time in an hour. And just like that she was gone.

I wanted to follow her and drag her to my room. I wanted to sit her down and force her to explain everything. From the moment she picked the fight to the moment she walked out. I wanted to push her against the wall and physically show her how much I missed her. But I could do none of those things. She would kill me with her own bare hands if I tried to force her to do something.

Ashton was a girl who stood up for herself. She was self-conscious in a good way. Even though we were living together, she had a job and paid for everything herself. No one could tell her what to do and if they tried they would get a piece of her southern temper. My thoughts about the one that got away were interrupted immediately by a hard punch in the stomach.

“I told you not to touch him Bailey.” I too high pitched voice of a guy said.

“Shut up Clinton.” Bailey spit back and I finally looked up or down I guess. Bailey Martin stood in front of me for the first time in a while. Her barely five foot frame stood glaring at me and her hands balled into fists.

“You don’t need to yell at me.” I said to her and put a hand over my abs. A small bruise was already starting to form.

“I hope that bruises.” She sneered as Clinton rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry James. She just rook off.” He said with an apologetic look. I just shrugged it off, but was ready for any random, swift punches she still felt the need to throw.

“You’re an asshole. I hope she gets over you right now and I never have to see your sorry ass of a hockey player again.” Bailey stated in a rude tone. I looked at her in shock before leaning down slightly.

“Get your facts straight. She walked out on me.” I said just as rude. Her face twisted into shock, before covering back up.

“You had to do something to make her walk away.” She retaliated.

“Getting traded was not my decision.” I replied.

“You should have gotten traded to the Kings.” She said back.

“I couldn’t pick.” I said even though trying to reason with her was hopeless.

“You could have done something to get her back.” Bailey snapped again. This time I had no come back because she was right. Clinton tightened his grip on her arm as my face fell. “I hope you break your ankle during the game.” She said as her final statement before dragging Clinton off with her.

“I’m sorry man. We can catch up later?” He said with actual guilt in his eyes. Even though Clinton swung the wrong way, he was a cool guy. We were friends when I dated Ashton and hung out on the nights the girls went out.

“Yeah. I’ll call you.” I said and shrugged. By the time they made their way out of the lobby, everyone that was in my group was staring at me.

“What was that?” Tyler Seguin asked with a confused face.

“Long story.” I said before walking away and telling Kris I would be at the room. He gave me a look that I couldn’t quite read, but didn’t say anything. For that I was grateful. I strode towards the elevators and was thankful that Bailey and Clinton were no where in sight. I made sure to get on an elevator with other people and tried to hide in a corner.

As soon as I got to my room, I switched my shorts for a pair of jeans and pulled a hoodie over my t-shirt. Then I slipped into my tennis shoes and grabbed my phone and key card. The streets were dark and deserted this time. Street lights did a good job of illuminating the sidewalks. I walked the opposite direction of what I did before and ended up walking past a park. A path from the park peeked out onto the street and I decided to follow it.

Light was almost scarce on the path and the trees moved with the breeze. To say it wasn’t a little scary would be a lie. People perceive hockey players as fearless, tough guys that can do almost anything. In reality, we are like normal people but have more muscle. If I had to pick between a chick flick and a horror movie, I would pick the chick flick every time. The whistling of the wind and slow movement of the trees turned this nice park into a creepy dark forest. I started to slow down my walk and decided to turn around.

“You were never one for scary stuff.” A voice said from behind me once I turned around. I froze in place and started praying that this wouldn’t be the end. “This path didn’t even take five minutes to walk and you’re already turning around. Shouldn’t you man up and keep going? You are a hockey player.” It said again.

My prayers turned into my life flashing before my eyes. I never got to win a Stanley Cup, go to the Olympics, travel out of North America, or even attempt to win Ashton back. I slowly turned around and stuffed my hands into my pockets. Maybe if I don’t show any threats, they will kill my faster I thought. Right before I looked at my attacker, they burst into laughter and my head shot up. I knew that laughter