Insane Love

She wasn't there.

I sat on the medical table, waiting for one of the other team doctors to come. Jordan had to go back to the bench to update Randy and the staff, but he said he'd return. My nose was bleeding along with my top lip. As much as I hated to admit it, ever, he won the fight. His helmet flew off after I punched him, but Eric Boulton got more in and I was the one who left the ice to get cleaned up. It was a huge match-up against the Islander. Mia wasn't there, even though she told me she'd be off-duty for only a few days. I was confused and was starting to think she was avoiding work, and I didn't know why. It didn't make sense.

On top of it, I felt like she was trying to avoid me as well. Every time I tried to get close with her, she shifted away from me. Uncomfortably. She wasn't acting the same. It didn't take a genius to figure out when she was using a fake smile.

Jordan entered through the door with a cloth in one hand and a small bottle in the other. It was translucent, sealed with a blue lid, and it looked like there was a liquid inside.

"Alright, let's take a look here." he sat in front of me on a stool, placing the materials down. Jordan slid his hands through two green plastic gloves. He dabbed my lip with the partly wet wipe.

"Jord, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he chewed on his mint gum, waiting for me to ask what I wanted.

"You get days off, right?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," he chuckled. "We don't work twenty-four-seven."

I shut my mouth as he wiped some of the remaining blood off. The arena came alive, and I glanced over at the flat screen. 3-2 Islanders. I signed and my chin lifted up, as Jordan replaced the bloody tissue with a new one.

"So how's Mia?" Jordan spoke.

"Good," I nodded casually.

"How's she feeling?"

"Uh, she's feeling alright." I answered.

"You must have been so worried," he gave me a sympathetic look before putting the lid back on the alcohol bottle.

My stomach churned. My mouth opened to say something but nothing came out. I furrowed my eyebrows, making eye-contact with him.

"What?" I wanted him to repeat what I thought he said.

"You know, the--" he froze in his own tracks.

Seeing him stop like that was enough for me to know something was wrong. Something had happened. I urged him to continue by the cracked expression on my face. At that exact moment, I knew she had been lying to me.

"I.." Jordan tried to find the right words. "I thought.."

"What the fuck is going on!?" I removed the tissue off from below my nostrils.

Jordan placed the cloth down on the small table beside him, looking directly through me. "She had to go to the hospital.. uh, the doctor said she had to take a week off work." he breathed.

"When did this happen?" I asked furiously.

"Saturday night," he answered after thinking for a moment.

I cursed under my breath. I tried to gather my thoughts, remembering that night. I felt horrible. I did things with her that could be the reason she had to go to the hospital. I knew for sure, already, that it must of happened while I was at the bar. I was celebrating, and she was on a hospital bed. My head spun wildly.

"What happened?" I said quietly.

"Her side hurts," he motioned the right chest area. "I don't know why."

I could plead guilty if I had the chance. It was my fault. I must have hurt her. I stared at my hands in my lap, completely shutting off my brain as the buzzer went off and the first period ended. I forgot where I was.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me.." I shook my head.

"Talk to her, okay?" Jordan put his hand on my shoulder, before leaving to the locker room.

I looked around at the screens, the cupboards and empty ice baths. I closed my eyes for a moment.

I wasn't focused for the next two periods. My head just wasn't in the game, and I kept getting hit against the boards. I defended Nazem in a scrum, but all I could think about was what Jordan told me. The whole time, Mia was on my mind. We were out-shot entirely in the 5-3 loss.

The team tried to regroup and shake off the embarrassing plays. The locker room was quiet as we all changed into our game suits. Dion, Joffrey and the rest of the taken boys all linked together with their girlfriends or wives.

Mia wasn't there.

I drove alone. Hands gripping the steering wheel, silence filling the car at every traffic light. I knew she was at my place, so that was definitely my destination. The air was cool. It was a chilly night, as it had recently rained. The sky was getting dark, the snow on the grass was almost completely gone, and the street lights glimmered.

I pulled into my driveway, trying to remain calm, although I knew I was going to explode. Next to me, was Mia's BMW. I unbuckled my seatbelt, and got out. I walked up to the front door and slid the key through the hole.

The scent of freshly baked banana-nut muffins roamed around the house. She made my favorite.

I took off my shoes by the door and put the keys in my pocket. She must not have known that I arrived because I could still hear her humming to the song Chelsea Dagger in the kitchen. I glanced at the blanket on the couch, and the empty cup on the table.

I walked over to the living room, getting closer to the flipped down book beside the cup of green tea. Lolita , written by Vladimir Nabokov. The TV volume was turned low, and it was viewing the after hours on Sportsnet.

I headed for the kitchen, where I stood in the doorway. Her brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and she wore a lace yellow apron over black leggings and a pink shirt. She was looking at the timer on the silver black stove. As she turned to walk to the sink, she jumped up.

"You scared me," she laughed faintly.

"Sorry." I murmured.

She came closer and went on her toes to kiss my lips gently. "Did you smell these muffins all the way from the arena?" she raised an eyebrow before the timer went off.

She leaned down slowly, so slowly, to pull the muffin tin out of the oven. I watched her movements, knowing what she thought I didn't. She regained a straight position as she took the mitts off. Mia then clicked off the stove and glanced at me.

"They smell good," I complimented. There was nothing she loved more than knowing her baking and cooking skills were appreciated.

After cooling them off quickly, she placed the six banana-nut muffins on a plate. We sat across from each other on the kitchen island, in our regular seats.

"How was your night?" I asked her, as she grabbed a piece off and ate it.

She shrugged and looked at me knowingly, not wanting to mention the game. "I was thinking," she spoke. "When all the snow disappears.. I think we should put the space in front of the porch to use."

"What do you wanna do with it?"

"I want a garden." she beamed towards me.

"That sounds good to me." I nodded slightly, approving of the idea, but still feeling mad at her. She acted as if nothing ever happened on Saturday.

We both ate one muffin, and she wrapped the others up and placed the plate on the counter. Then, we went to the living room. Mia put the bookmark in the novel and shut it. She sat down, glancing at the empty space beside her where she expected me to sit. I stared at her, at the fake smile she perfected.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in the hospital?" I asked calmly, with my hands on my hips, and my thin black tie hanging loose.

With the change of expression on her face, she knew she couldn't lie. She swallowed before replying with, "It's nothing."

"Yes it is." I said firmly. "You didn't go there for fun." I walked closer and sat on the coffee table in front of her.

"I don't know what happened," she finally sighed. "It's.. my breast, it just hurts at random times."

"Did I hurt you?" my voice was full of worry.

"No," she said right away. "No, no. Trust me, it wasn't you." Mia put her hands on top of mine on my lap, trying to calm me down.

"When did this start?"

"I was waiting outside the locker room after Saturday's game, and I was just talking to Elisha." she explained. "At first it was minor, and then it felt worse that night."

I shook my head, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry.."

"It's too late, isn't it!?"

"Colt--"

"No!" I stopped, sliding my hands away from her. "Since when do we keep stuff like this from each other?" Before I could let her even try to speak, I added, "Since when do we keep anything from each other!?"

"I didn't want you to know because--!" she got defensive, furrowing her eyebrows in anger.

"You didn't want me to know?" I spoke clearly. I faked a small laugh and stood up, facing away. "When were you planning on telling me, huh?" I turned to look at her. "Next year? In a million years? Never!?"

With teary eyes, she grabbed her purse, swinging it on her shoulder and stood up. "I was going to tell you when the results come. Tomorrow." she spoke gently, with a crack in her broken voice. Breaking her eyes apart from mine, she sniffed, and walked passed my shoulder.

Our backs faced each other. It was silent, the decreasing smell of homemade muffins filled the atmosphere, the curtains blew as the wind came in through the window. I turned to see her head closer to the front door.

She stopped before pulling the knob, without looking back at me, "Goodnight." And then she left.

I allowed the door to close. I was still too mad and I was trying to process everything that just happened. I ran my hand through my hair, sighing in disbelief. I sped walked, opening the door wide, rushing through the sidewalk leading up to the driveway.

She wasn't there.