One More Night

Bree sat at a back table in a café, unable to believe she was here. She should’ve told Marc to stay the hell away, to keep out of her life, but instead she was sitting here, sipping away at a glass of water and waiting for him to walk in the door. He’d managed to get days away from New York – during the middle of a home game stand no less – and was flying out to Thunder Bay to come and see her. Everything in her head was screaming at her to get up and leave, to not put herself through seeing him again, but for some reason her heart wouldn’t let her. The Marc she’d known during the summer – the open, caring, heartfelt Marc – had her desperately trying to cling to him and the person she’d thought he was. It was silly, and desperate, she told herself, but she couldn’t make herself do anything else.

He was fifteen minutes late when she’d finally started to gather up her purse and phone to leave, when he came barreling in the door. Hair a mess, clothes disheveled, and eyes wide as he searched the café for her. Bree was frozen, and when his eyes met hers relief was evident throughout his entire body as the tension left his body and he made his way over to her.

“I’m sorry I’m late… I um, ran into my parents downtown,” he explained, and she felt her stomach sink. She hadn’t met his mom, but the way Marc had talked about his parents to her told her all she needed to know. He thought the world of them, and she had no doubts that all of this that was going on had stressed his relationship with them.

“I-its okay,” she mumbled, and sat back down, folding her hands in her lap. Marc took the seat across from her, and the waitress immediately came over to see if he needed anything. He ordered a coffee, and asked for Bree’s drink to be refilled, leaving the two of them quiet until after she’d returned with their drinks.

“So, um… how are you?” he asked, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“Great – I’m the size of a whale,” immediately she felt bad when she saw Marc wince at the tone of voice she used with him. The words seemed to have cut right through him, and he reacted like he expected her to lash out at him any moment. His eyes wandered to the little bit he could see of her stomach over the table, immediately making her feel self-conscious. She hated people looking her over because it was so obvious to see the judgments they were making, or acknowledging the fact she’d put on a ridiculous amount of weight.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, Marc I’m sorry, that was rude,” she apologized, unable to handle the pain in Marc’s hazel eyes. It was obvious he’d been tore up for a while, from the exhaustion written all over his face, the pain in the depths of his eyes, and even the way he seemed to be completely disregarding taking care of himself. His clothes and hair were a mess and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“I deserve it Bree. I deserve a lot worse than that… I still can’t believe you actually answered the phone, let alone agreed to meet me,” he let out a ragged chuckle, staring down into his coffee cup. “I don’t deserve you even giving me the time of day, but… but I can’t leave things like this. I… you mean too much to me to not try and explain it all to you.”

Bree’s head began to spin then. Since hearing on fucking Hockey Night In Canada the little comment about his wife all she could think about was how terrible Marc must really be. She wanted to make herself hate him, because Bree thought it would be easier to let him go. So she’d insisted to herself that she’d meant nothing to him, she was just ‘the other woman’, but now here he was, in front of her, with all the evidence pointing to the opposite. She couldn’t believe that he could just out and out say this without an apparent second thought.

“What?”

Marc blinked slowly, his brow drawn slightly before recognition took over his handsome features.

“Oh God… Bree, of course I have feelings for you… nothing would have ever happened… Bree I’m scared I’m falling in love with you, all right?” he burst, leaving her feeling absolutely shell shocked.

“You can’t be. You’re married,”

“I’m getting divorced, Bree. Things have been terrible between us since long before I met you,” he reached across the table and took one of her hands in his, her attention moving to the familiarity of his gesture and the fact her hand disappeared in his. “She’d been cheating on me for over a year… hell half the time we were married she had somebody else. It doesn’t make it any better, I know that… but I kept going back to you because you made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t just because we were sleeping together or anything like that—”

“You need to stop, Marc,” she pulled her hand from his, placing it in her lap and therefore out of reach of him. “I can’t… I can’t handle this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Bree but it’s true. It’s been killing me since that first night that I wasn’t being honest with you… I was being selfish and awful because I didn’t want to give you up right then and I knew I would have to because you wouldn’t want anything to do with me when you knew. But I wanted to tell you, because you’re somebody I wanted to have in my life even though I had it all fucked up from the first moment…”

Bree knew he was being completely honest, she could hear it in his voice aside from the fact he’d nearly worked himself into tears in the middle of the café. There was no looking down, no loss of color in his face, or fidgeting with his clothes, things that would have told her he was uncomfortable and possibly not indulging the whole truth. There was nothing except the pain and desperation that he'd been experiencing. People were starting to look, and a hushed quiet had taken over the cafe, which told Bree that people were trying to be inconspicuous but really were listening or trying to listen to what was going on. Of course they were; everybody wanted to know what was going on in Superstar Marc Staal’s life, or catch a glimpse, get an autograph, etcetera. The exact kind of attention Bree didn’t want.

“Come on, we need to get you out of here,” she sighed, standing up and tugging on his sleeve to get him to follow. She quickly – but awkwardly – got into her coat, and once Marc had done the same they paid and left, going back to her apartment. Now that she knew Marc was basically famous, the thought of people seeing them together and speculating almost frightened her. She’d seen some of the gossip boards online – in a stupid notion one night to see if she’d been an odd-chance or if Marc was known for infidelity – and the people were terrible. More than that, the thought of his parents or his soon-to-be ex wife finding out sent a shiver down her spine; she couldn’t bear the notion of it.

“Thanks, sorry I’m just…” she eased him into the chair, where he seemed to go limp.

“It’s okay Marc, I just thought that with everything… it might be better to not be in public,” she explained. Marc paled, and nodded.

“I never even thought of that when I asked… I’m sorry, jesus I’m just making everything into a bigger mess,” his voice was thick with emotion and he was nearly in tears now. Bree couldn’t resist, which she blamed on her hormones, and walked over, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Marc immediately leaned into her, and she rubbed his back softly as quiet sobs began to wrack his wide, muscular frame. It nearly broke her heart to see him like that; it was obvious to Bree then just how much of a wreck he was.

“Shh… it’s okay Marc, it’s okay,” she soothed, holding him until the tears ended and he was starting to nod off, too exhausted to keep his eyes open. He was fighting it, that much she could tell, but she knew he was in no state of mind to talk about all of this now.

“I should go home… are you busy tomorrow? We need to talk about all of this,” he sniffed, but Bree shook her head, continuing to rub his back.

“You can stay here for right now; you look like you need a nap,” she answered, and with a conflicted expression Marc nodded. Moments later Marc froze, and his wide hazel eyes turned up to her. Bree couldn’t understand his shock, until it occurred to her that he wasn’t used to feeling her baby kick the way she was. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that he’d react, because she hadn’t thought he would have the opportunity to feel her baby kicking.

“Oh my God…” tears were welling up in his eyes once more, and Bree was nearly in tears as well. Gingerly, as if he were afraid she was made of glass and would break, he placed his hand against her stomach. The baby kicked again, and the expression on Marc’s face was indescribable. A mix of shock, joy and a little bit of fear was even there as he looked down at her stomach before back up at her.

“That’s my baby…” he whispered, hiccupping on the word as he softly rubbed her stomach. She usually wasn’t that big on letting people touch her stomach, but Marc’s hand fit there perfectly and naturally. Just as everything else had been with him, she felt comfortable and at ease with him, even though she wanted to reject the gesture.

“Yeah,” the words slipped past her lips before she could stop them, and carefully Marc pulled her until she sat on his lap. Bree wanted to resist, to get up and walk over to the couch to keep a safe distance from him, but instead found herself melting against his body. She’d craved this; with all the craziness that had been her life since finding out she was pregnant she’d wanted nothing more than Marc’s arms around her and his comforting strength there to protect her. Now he was, and as much as she wanted to hate him, tell him she didn’t want him involved, she knew she couldn’t.