Toews' Rings

When the commercial abruptly roared through his living room, Jon lurched forward from his position on the couch. Slumber still holding his eyes shut with crumbs, his hand shot out in search of the remote as compensation for his unforeseen fright. Fingers grazing the cold plastic of the device, Jon grabbed a hold of it and was about press the POWER button, when his own voice stopped him in his tracks, and his movements fell stiff.

"You may know me as the captain of the Chicago Blackhawks, but when I am not on the ice scoring goals for my team, I'm selling my name-brand rings downtown. People ask me all the time why in the Hell would I ever become a jeweler in my free time, but it's a simple answer, really: I like diamonds and I like women. Put those together, and you get to be the man owning the jewelry store just around the corner. Normally this kind of job wouldn't appeal to me, but over time I've come to enjoy what it has to offer. There are so many stores that sell rings to people, guaranteeing the utmost quality, but they're all just kissing your ass; they want your money, not your gratitude for them selling you their 'best piece.' It's a bunch of bull, and that's why I opened my own jewelry store to ensure that my customers get what they're supposed to be supplied at any other store, and that's good quality..."

Jon squeezed his eyes closer together knowing what to expect in a couple of seconds when his shop's motto would be announced at the end of the commercial. He had said it enough times to have memorized and permanently have it scratched into the surface of his brain.

"Come down to Toews' Rings and get your fiancé some nice jewelry. After all, I'm a hockey player and I know how to invest my time and money with you."

Releasing the air that he didn't know he was holding in, Jon used all his might to pry his eyes open, stare at the image of him on the television (who was staring back with the complete opposite mood), and then defiantly stab the POWER button. His hands went immediately to surge up his face and through his hair as he sniffed deeply, relishing the silence that rang throughout his house.

"God Almighty," Jon murmured, sluggishly getting up off the couch.

He began getting ready for work— going into the kitchen to make himself some lunch, scrubbing off the leftover sweat from hockey practice earlier that day in the shower, and then tidying up in his new gray suit. All the while, his voice on the commercial rang through his head. Jon had never liked how stuck-up he sounded when it came down to beckoning people to shop at his store. The motto he had come up with was just a silly implication of what was true, but he meant for it to be only a joke between him and his caster. However, the man being paid to put together the commercial insisted, and eventually demanded, that Jon use that as a motto, and that was how it came out to be. But everyday when it was played through the speakers of his TV or rolled off of his own tongue, Jon wanted to throw up. As much as he enjoyed his job as a jeweler, the commercial and motto reminded him constantly of what he lost a year ago: one of his best friends, a fantastic girlfriend, and a gorgeous fiancé.

Jon could still reminisce the look on her face when she revealed the big news to him, and the exact way her hands shook when placing the engagement ring back into his hands. He had told her to keep it, but she refused, which only made his heart shudder even more in the end. The sound of the front door to his house closing after she left was what snapped Jon awake from his misery. Twirling the ring in his hands, he spawned the idea of opening a jewelry store, and from there on, even though it seemed like a dubious thing to get into, he vowed that one day he would sell the ring that wholeheartedly ruined his life.



Keeping his dark eyes fixed on the ground, Jon didn't see it when all of a sudden he tripped over the lid of a trashcan. Barking out an obscenity, he carried on with a boorish strut. His hand, out of a habit to occupy itself whenever Jon felt stressed, went up to rub along his bare jawline. It would predictably be garnished with stubble the next morning, and knowing that it would have to be shaved, he let out a long sigh. However, at the sound of his name being called out, Jon's eyes lifted from the pavement to see that he had arrived at his jewelry store.

The older man standing over by the entrance quickly made his way over to Jon, and clapped him on the back.

"What's up, Tazer?" the man grinned. "I hope you know you're five minutes late."

Jon gave a stern look, not that he ever didn't, considering he never liked to flaunt his emotions... especially today, when all he felt were the pesty bites of nostalgia.

"Yeah, Paulie, I know."

The man's smile faltered for a moment, before widening again. "Hey, I was only joking. It's good to see ya! I want to show you the new installment I was blabbering on the other day about purchasing. Boy, is it going to get a lot of attention!"

A good amount of the day went on like that for Jon, being talked up all day from Paulie and shown all kinds of new jewelery and cases. He couldn't deny that he was fascinated with all the new stuff, but that endearment only lasted a couple of seconds before boredom came back, stronger each time around. Occupying himself with the cuff of his sleeve as he sat back on a recliner, Jon suddenly felt his ears pick up a familiar sound, a laugh to be specific. His once tired eyes, now fueled with alertness, shot up only to land on the face of the girl he never wished to see again: Eleanor Healy.

Finding himself marvel how much prettier her hair looked having grown longer from the last time he had seen her, Jon shook his head and averted his eyes to the ground. There was a piercing ring in his head that he soon discovered to be an everlasting why? Too many questions had found their way through his airways and bloodstream, and now lingered forever in his mind. An aura to the migraine that Jon would soon be struck with later on wavered in his vision, as he felt his face grow hot with anger and frustration.

"Hey, Tazer!" Paulie's voice whispered from behind him.

Jon having instantly grown lethargic again, slowly twirled around in his seat, resting his chin upon the back of the recliner, and stared for the man to continue on with what he was going to say.

"I think I've spotted your ex over there with another man. Care to say 'hello' to them, or do you want me to go handle it?"

He wouldn't have thought twice to refuse going to assist the 'couple,' but feeling a strange emotion wash over him, he faced frontwards in his seat and stood up. His hands smoothed down his suit.

"I got it."

The next moment was a blur to him as Jon walked over to the girl that broke his heart, and the jerk that took his place. The anger that was once glowing in his face moved its way down to his chest where it resided for the entirety of Jon conversing with them. His back went straight in a way to reflect intimidation off of him, and his hands dried correspondingly for when he would have to shake theirs. Lastly, with a clearing of his throat, Jon made his presence known...

They say actions speak louder than words, but during this interval of time where a confrontation was enacted, everyone's eyes conveyed exactly how they were feeling. For instance, Jon's eyes held a dull coverage to them, inconspicuously trying to show that he was not in the mood. However, the way the light touched his irises and the way his eyelids scrunched up underneath his eyes gave the couple the impression he was pleased to be there with them. Eleanor's eyes blatantly showed fear, a primal feeling that she was accustomed to falter to. Thus, her fiancé's eyes were struck with all kinds of emotion, such as curiosity, amazement, and pride. So, even if they all were to say kind words to each other, their inner feelings betrayed their hospitality.

"Welcome to Toews' Rings. Can I help you two find anything?"

Jon took the first leap of faith, and now focused balancing on the tight rope that was this conversation. He could only wonder the expense if he ever were to fall off.

"That's right— you're Jon Toews. I can't believe I'm actually meeting you in the flesh." said Eleanor's fiancé. "I'm Donahue."

Wanting to purge out his lunch at how much Eleanor and Donahue's names sounded straight out of a soap opera, Jon courageously stuck out his hand to be shook. When their hands met and tangoed, a small sigh of relief left Jon's lips.

Donahue continued talking afterwards, answering Jon's question from before. "And, I think I might need your help here. Eleanor's a picky gal, as you probably know."

Jon wanted to scoff at how easy it was to see that Donahue's intentions were to tick him off, but instead his mouth twitched into a small smile. As long as he played it cool, then this could quickly be resolved.

"Yeah, she can be a handful." His dark eyes landed on Eleanor for the first time since he approached her. A pang erupted from his heart, in which he tried to ignore as he went on talking. "I can show you a selection that you might like."

Donahue jumping at the offer, took Eleanor's hand and followed Jon as he began walking away to the new display case Paulie set up. On the top shelf were rings that were embellished mainly with large diamonds, ones Jon knew Donahue wouldn't be able to afford, but he couldn't help but play with the man that started the 'fight,' so to speak. If demeanors were manipulative inside Eleanor's fiancé, then Jon felt it was only fair to reciprocate the same extent of respect back.

Placing his hands lightly on the display, Jon spoke up again, "These are from a newer selection, but they have been popular among most my clients for some time, now."

Eleanor briefly flashed her eyes amongst them, almost as if sensing what he was doing trying to sell what she and her fiancé could not buy. Her lips turned into a deep frown, and her brow furrowed. Yet, her eyes did not reach Jon's, that were examining her very reaction.

Donahue looked confused upon acknowledging the price tags, but a moment later he turned smug; he had caught on with Jon's antics. The desire to make one another miserable became evident, as both men's faces figuratively inflamed green with envy and callousness. The showdown between them would only escalate now that they've picked up on their motives.

"You know," Donahue puffed in laughter, "I'm sorry if I appear to be more well off than I am, but I don't think I can afford these rings here."

Jon faked a sympathetic look the best he could, but let his mouth betray his act. "My apologies, but I figured that no matter the cost you'd be a good man and buy your fiancé a fantastic ring. I guess I was mistaken."

He looked away before his eyes could be scarred by the pissed off look on Donahue's face, and the scowl that quickly formed on Eleanor's. If he was as stuck-up as his commercial made him appear to be, he probably would have laughed at how upset they were, but he knew that would have been too far of a step for him to have managed on the tight rope. Therefore, he cautiously began walking away in the direction of a special display case that he knew would end this 'quarrel.'

Donahue now grasping Eleanor's wrist tightly, stalked over to where Jon now stood. Apprehension filled within him as if he were given the blueprints to Jon's plans, but the text was smudged under his fingers. He had an idea of what was about to happen, but could only be driven to find out more once he heard his fiancé gasp. His eyes flashed from the ring present before him to the shivering girl beside him, trying to make sense of what she knew but he didn't. However, not being able to form the connection, he gave up and let his thoughts be heard aloud.

"What?" Donahue spat. "I don't get what's happening. What's wrong with the ring?"

Directing her words towards Jon, Eleanor seethed, "You snide asshole."

The anger contained within his chest quickly diseased Jon's fast-pumping heart, and in an instant, was circulated throughout his body. His hands shook at the same intensity Eleanor's body was, and he felt as if his eyes flashed red.

"Can someone tell me what the problem is?" Donahue interrupted, causing both Eleanor and Jon to stare at him.

Going to answer his question, Eleanor opened her mouth to speak. She had wanted to sound bold, but the hormones filtering inside her prevented that. A sudden wave of sadness crashed onto her and all she was capable of doing was mumbling the explanation.

"That's the ring Jon used to propose to me."

Expecting a completely different outcome, Jon was taken aback when Donahue clawed at the collar to his new suit, and brought him up to the enraged face he had the chance of avoiding moments before. He could almost hear the growl Donahue so desperately wanted to let out and the clawing of the beast within his chest.

Furrowing his brow, Jon finally spoke up. "Let go of me. You're making a scene."

"I don't see why I should. You're the one that's been playing with us all along." Donahue's grimace swiftly turned up into a smirk. "Eleanor's right with what she said about you... You're a complete ass wipe."

Not being able to contain his rage anymore, Jon used all the muscle and strength he obtained from being a hockey player, and pushed Donahue down to the ground. He quickly advanced on the larger man and began throwing punches at his face, wishing for a spurt of blood from either the nose or lip. However, he was quickly disappointed when Donahue forcefully rolled him over and began jabbing directly at his nose now. The bigger hands of Eleanor's fiancé allowed the job to be done quicker, and it was no sooner than later that there was "crack!" that resonated from Jon's face, and a river of blood pouring out of his nose.

Coming to his rescue, Paulie wrestled Donahue off of Jon, but it had only been useless considering he was pushed away a second later and Donahue was surging to get back on top of Jon. Pulling at the outstretched arm of Donahue, Jon managed to drag the man to the ground, and he went quickly to continue the job he couldn't finish before, and that was making Donahue's face match his.

Everyone that had been in the jewelry store was commanded of Paulie to exit, considering they were only getting in the way and putting themselves at risk of getting hurt, as well. The chaotic shouts from other couples filled the air, which only fed the maniacal senses of the two men grappling on the floor. Several phone calls were made to the police and to paramedics, because there was likely to be more destruction by the time anyone official arrived to stop the now physical fight between Jon and Donahue. In the meantime, Eleanor stood in shock, not being able to move. Her voice picked up the force she had wanted prior to the outburst of fists, as she continuously yelled at the boys to stop. They didn't listen, though.

Satisfied at popping Donahue's nose, Jon figured enough was enough, but clearly the other man did not. As Jon was gradually shifting into a standing position towards the feet of the beaten guy on the ground, Donahue pounced up, taking Jon off guard, and pushed him into a glass display case. The case shattered under the weight of Jon, as he deadpanned to the floor yet again. The loud groan that escaped his lips was soon drowned out by the roar of sirens from outside as the police and ambulances had arrived.

There was a rush of movements in the following point of time. Many men flooded the room, swarming immediately to where Jon was barely conscious. A stretcher was pulled close by, in which Jon was tenderly lifted onto, and strapped in. Donahue was taken by the arm of one of the paramedics and let out of the store, and to one of the ambulances where he was checked over. Eleanor still could not move, despite several officials telling her to. She could only watch as the stretcher was being rolled away, that is until she heard Jon's voice call her name. Feeling an impulse spark within her, she jogged a ways over to get close enough to hear him better.

"Eleanor," he gulped, shutting his eyes. "Will you marry me?"



There was a cluster of sounds that woke Jon up this time— the voices of nurses talking to one another or to the patient on the other half of the room, the clicking of keys to a computer by doctors across the hall, the wails and coughs of a baby down the hall, and the deafening "thump" of his own heartbeat in his ears. His eyes did not open at first to see who was sitting next to him, but his nerves and instincts fulfilling the job instead already told him it was Eleanor. To be honest, Jon was glad that it was her out of any other person he knew because he still had so many questions to ask her and an explanation to do on his own behalf.

It took a moment for him to absorb everything in, like where he was (the ER of a hospital), what pains he felt (a scorching headache and a dull thud in his nose), and how he was going to approach a conversation with the girl next to him. After all, he did not want to lose what stability he started off with, knowing that predictably just a couple hours ago, he lost his balance on the tight rope and let his corrupt feelings take advantage of him.

Finally, making up his mind, Jon blinked his eyes open, careful to not hurt himself by the blinding light overhead. He cleared his throat, being sure that it wouldn't embarrass him as soon as he would begin talking. Then lastly, peered over to see Eleanor staring right back at him.

"I'm sorry I was such an ass."

A breathy laugh escaped her lips as Eleanor looked away. It was almost as if she was ashamed of showing any positivity towards him, considering all that he's done. Therefore, she allowed the small smile to slip from her features and her attention be drawn to her twiddling thumbs.

"Whatever, Jon." She played coolly, although a second later her compassionate side came through as she continued, "How are you feeling?"

"Better now that you're here."

"Cut it out."

Smiles flashed on both of their faces despite not wanting to partake in the action.

"I'm being serious, you know." Jon then said.

Eleanor shifted in her chair as she felt her heart jump start. She didn't realize it would be this difficult to talk to him after such a long time. He still had that same charm that made her grin even when she didn't want to, and it had happened so easily against her will. All of it just made her flustered and annoyed.

"Well, you are called Captain Serious for a reason." She quipped.

This time Jon let out a chuckle, and scooched up a little in the hospital bed. This kind of playful attitude of hers felt so familiar, but at the same time so foreign due to not hearing it enough in the past year. It made his shoulders slump down with the pressure of so many memories swiveling their way into his mind and overlapping one another as they played over what he lost. The notion made his stomach churn in an instant, and all happiness leave him as he let out a huge sigh.

"Why did you come to my shop today, Eleanor?"

Sensing the shift of disposition, she answered genuinely, "Donahue wanted to buy me an engagement ring there. However, he basically forced me in the store even after all the times I told him it would only cause trouble... but I think that's what he wanted. Well," she cleared her throat, "he should have realized that I wasn't going to support him with that... Although you and I weren't on good terms, I didn't want to hurt you anymore than I already did."

Her words took the breath out of Jon. To know that she at least still cared about him unlocked a door to a revelation that he knew he would cherish forever. Throughout the struggle of being separated from her, he figured that Eleanor held some sort of resentment towards him. After all, she did not give him a sturdy enough reason why she was leaving him in the first place. It was mainly a mystery to Jon, and so since then, he just always told himself that she wanted nothing more to do with him. However, still complying with Donahue's demand of going to his jewelry store showed that Eleanor at least wasn't completely repulsed to see his face.

"I may be in an emergency room, but let me just say that by going to my shop, you didn't hurt me; your fiancé did. So... thank you for at least thinking of me beforehand."

Eleanor suddenly appeared very nervous, which threw Jon off. If anything, she should have looked relieved at his statement. He was appreciative of her actions, not scorning them.

"What?" Jon's deep voice sounded.

The fire of hesitation was burning bright for Eleanor. She wanted to spill it all, feeling overwhelmed by the events that happened back at the store and at home, but then again, she didn't want to submerge Jon in her problems. Somehow she took the careful route and stated exactly what he insisted on knowing.

"Donahue..." she began, "is not my fiancé anymore."

"I don't get it. He hurt me, Eleanor. It's not like he killed me. Why did you... stop things with him?"

Taking all of her courage to not snap and let any tears fall, she kept going, voice wavering, "Today wasn't the first time he ever got violent in front of me."

For the second time since waking up in the hospital, all breath escaped Jon. His eyes widened at her anguish, and his hand shot out to cup her cheek, again falling accustomed to occupying itself whenever he felt stressed. Unlike tripping over the lid to a trashcan, this wasn't a lame excuse to feel unnerved.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Jon spoke softly. "I could have helped you."

Her nose scrunched up as the tears finally fell. "I didn't want to cower back to my ex. I mean, who does that?"

"Still, I could have done something; I could have filed a charge and got you away from him."

"Yeah, well I thought you'd never want to see me again. I broke your heart after all, didn't I?"

Jon's hand fell from her face.

"Yeah, you did... But I still loved you."

"You did?" Eleanor squeaked.

He nodded, not being able to speak of his feelings anymore. It was too much for him considering he hardly ever opened up. However the pressure that was on his shoulders alleviated the slightest bit at the confession of how Jon still had feelings for Eleanor. And against what little power he had left in him, his cheeks began to flush.

"You know," Eleanor sniffed, wiping a finger against her nose, "this may sound very crazy of me, even though I have been reckless ever since I left you, but... if your proposal still stands, then I will... um, marry you."

Jon was quiet for some time. This was way too abrupt for him, but yet again, he had been the one to make the move and ask her to marry him back at the jewelry store. The question had not been answered, so it should have been deemed acceptable that it now was. Jon just couldn't fathom the truth of it, though. This was unbelievable to have just seen Eleanor after a year and suddenly make the decision of marrying her all over again, except this time, it could actually play out all the way. He didn't know if it was worth the effort, but Jon couldn't just lay back and carry on the rest of his days normally having experienced the bedlam he did this day. The news would be filled with stories and rumors of what went down, and Jon felt that he had to at least make one last connection with Eleanor while he could before her name was ruined by the media. Not only that, but this is what he yearned for ever since she left; he wanted her back, and he wanted to sell his engagement ring. If he were to marry her, the ring would be sold to him and then to Eleanor with no charge, for them to always admire as long as they stayed a happy couple. The option was something Jon was willing take. He didn't need to walk on the tight rope after this; his worries would be resolved.

"Hey, I'm a hockey player... I know how to invest my time and money with you."

Eleanor laughed at the infamous motto. "And love?"

"Yes, and my love."