All of Me

It’s not that Tally wanted to break up with Jon. That was absolutely the last thing she ever wanted to do, right behind hurting him and holding him back from hockey of course. It took every ounce of strength she possessed in her 5’5” body to not absolutely break down in Jonathans apartment, and even more to not take everything she said back.

She couldn’t, though. Tally couldn’t keep standing between Jonathan and the right woman for him, whoever she was and wherever she was. If Jonathan hadn’t even hinted towards a solid future together, she didn’t want to keep him from that happiness with someone else. She wasn’t bitter. If anything, the young artist was hopeful that he could move past this without being too damaged. All Tally ever wanted was the absolute best for her boyfriend of three years.

Sure, they’d both jokingly made remarks about a big house and Jon insisting on having enough kids for his own hockey team. They both argued on what team the kids would be a fan of—The Chicago Blackhawks, like their Daddy, or would they take after their Momma and root for the Penguins? Jon adamantly insisted more than anything he ever disputed that they be raised from day one to be Blackhawk fans. Of course, Kaner and Sharpy both whole-heartedly supported that and the only reason Tally ever really said otherwise was because she found their determination to be rather precious.

Tally shook her head, trying to break through the thoughts and focus on her painting. As she stared at the canvas, a gnawing urge in the back of her mind told her to go back to her apartment. She’d been staying with a friend from college the past three days on the outskirts of Chicago, a good twenty minute drive away from her apartment. She knew Cassie wouldn’t mind if she stayed a couple more days—they were rather enjoying their girls week of zero calorie counting, zombie movies, ice cream, Mtn Dew, and superhero movies; of course, there was the occasional sappy romance movie, but it was usually because there was a zombie or sexy guy in it. Sure, it was an odd combination, but for Cassie and Tally it was the perfect remedy.

Paradise couldn’t last forever, though. Tally had to be back in the city to make it on time to work the next day. With a groan, she moved her stiff muscles from the floor and stretched quickly. It took less than half an hour for her to gather all her belongings scattered about the living room and shove them into her Chicago Blackhawks carry-on bag that Kane had given her years ago.

“You know, you owe him at least an explanation, Tal,” said Cassandra, appearing from her bedroom with a mask of exhaustion over her features.

She was right, of course. But Tally didn’t want to think about the inevitable conversation that was bound to come banging on her apartment door in the next few days.

“Do you mind if I leave this painting here while it dries? I can pick it up this weekend or maybe after work tomorrow…” her soft voice trailed off when Cassie laughed dismissively.

“You know you can.”

“Thank you, Cassie. For… for everything,” sighed Tally, letting the elder female pull her into a much-needed hug.

“What are friends for, babe? Let me know how it goes or if you need anything, alright?”

“I will.”

“And text me when you get to your apartment so I know you’re safe,” she added, moments before the door swung closed behind Tally.

Her drive home was relatively uneventful, if you don’t count the man who cut her off when she had the right-of-way. She could practically hear the things Jon would be yelling if it was before or after a game—he usually had a very calm and collected demeanor, but in the privacy of his vehicle sometimes the adrenaline in anticipation of his game, or the lingering effects after a win or loss would cause a brief outburst of road rage. Immediately after, he’d apologize to Tally with an affectionate squeeze to her hand. She always laughed it off, finding him rather precious even when angry, but the immediate flip of emotions would always warm her heart. Jon hated raising his voice, especially around Tally.

“Just fucking stop thinking about him,” she whispered harshly to herself, scrambling around with her keys and bag to unlock the door. Once safely inside, another wave of emotion overwhelmed her. The door was slammed shut, and her back hit the smooth wood as sobs raked through her body. Tally wasn’t even sure how she still had tears left in her to cry.

Slowly, she sank to the floor of her painfully empty apartment. It was devoid of any sign of life, but there were little reminders of Jon clinging to every inch—the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the sofa, her bedroom, the Playstation 4 and Xbox 1 hooked up to her flat screen, the NHL games that littered the game holder. One of his shirts was tossed haphazardly onto a barstool, the shirt she usually slept in.

Each thing her bloodshot eyes took in made her sob harder until the only thing left were breathless gasps for air as pain stabbed between each rib. How could she possibly expect to function without Jon? Without Kane? Without the entire team? They had become her family, they had made Chicago a home to her.
She wasn’t sure she could stomach living in the city anymore.

When Tally woke, she was surprised to find herself in her bed. The last thing she remembered was crying herself to a point of exhaustion that overtook her, still slumped against the door. Her first thought was Cassie—she hadn’t texted her like she promised when she got home, and maybe she came looking for her? But no, she wouldn’t have been able to carry Tally into her room and plus, Cassie had work that night. Her next thought was Jon, but no. It wouldn’t be him—she knew that because he would have been waiting for her to wake up, worried. So who else could it be?

Reluctantly, she pulled herself from the bed and trudged toward the kitchen in search of her ritualistic Cranberry Juice. What she found nearly threw her into a cardiac arrest, earning a chuckle from the tall man wearing a Blackhawks practice jersey.

“Andrew,” sighed Tally, relief washing through her cold limbs when he moved nearer. He wrapped a burly arm around her shoulders and pulled smaller girl gently into his chest, rubbing her back soothingly.

“Hey there, Tally-Cat,” Shaw smiled, and despite herself Tally let out a tiny laugh at the nickname he had bestowed when they first met. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” she grumbled, and he chuckled a little bit. “What are you doing here?”

“Tazer is worried shitless about you. Kane would be here, but he’s kind of trying to keep Toews in better spirits, too. I volunteered to check on you.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“If you don’t want this bacon, I can always eat it all myself or throw it out…”

“Give it here, Shaw.”
It wasn’t a request, it was a demand. He obliged with another warm laugh, placing the plate of eggs, bacon, and biscuits in front of Tally immedaitely.

“Someone will swing by after practice to check on you. If it’s not me, it might be Abby and Sharpy. It might be Kaner. Anyways, one of us will come check on you, alright?” she glanced up at Andrew as he shrugged on a thick jacket, and nodded- mustering the best smile possible.

“You don’t have to.”

“Oh, no. We do. We love you, we wanna make sure you’re okay. Plus, Toews would be unbearable if he didn’t know you were alright.”

Again, Tally rolled her green eyes, shooing him off to practice with a quiet thanks. Thankful she was, but somehow couldn’t force herself to do much more than pick at the plate.

She should have been expecting the quiet knock on the apartment door around 4 that afternoon. Less than five minutes after Shaw left for practice, Tally had transitioned to the couch… and not moved. Just frozen numb.

“Coming!” She called, taking a moment to smooth out my clothes and run her fingers through the dark locks cascading down her shoulders. With a sigh, the chain was slid back and the doorknob was twisted. Nothing could have prepared her for what awaited on the other side of the door.

Jonathan Toews stood there, in all his glory, dressed in a solid black tuxedo. If I had any sense, thought Tally, I would have slammed the door right there, and never opened it again. For anyone.
But she couldn’t, and knew that—not with the way Jon was looking at her, wide eyed and hopeful.

“Jon,” she whispered, one of her hands pressed flush against her chest like the had the wind knocked out of her, and the other was gripping the door tightly. A sad smile drug across his face when he realized she wouldn’t shut him out, and he held out three beautiful roses.

“Tally,” he greeted in a soft voice, and tentatively Tally took the flowers from him.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, leaning against the door frame for support. “And why are you so… dressed up?”

“Well,” he drawled, and held a red ribboned, heart shaped box in front of his chest with a sheepish grin. “I wanted to give you these… and, well, please hear me out, Tally? I won’t take five minutes of your time, and if you still want me to leave after… I will. I promise.”

Instantly, Tallys teeth were piercing into her bottom lip. How could she possibly say no to Jon? She never had been able to before, and this didn’t seem like a good time to start making progress. Maybe that’s why she simply stepped aside then, and allowed him to gently kick the door shut behind him. Tally busied herself while she could, finding a vase for the roses, and filled it with water.

Jon laid the box of chocolates on the island and now stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, watching his love carefully. He looked good. No—he was breathtaking, as always. She knew this had to end quickly, otherwise she’d end up throwing herself back into his arms and promising to never leave him again.

“Alright. What’s this about?”

Awkwardly, he scratched the back of his neck before proceeding with his more than thought out speech. It all left him though, the moment he opened his mouth.

“I love you,” he blurted out, and then swore under his breath. “But you know that. Of course you know that. I just, I miss you.”

“It hasn’t even been a full week, Jonathan,” Tally sighed, leaning against the bar.

“Really? It feels like three,” he sighed, and shook his head. This wasn’t going how he’d planned. At all.

“Jon…”

“Just, wait. Tally, I don’t have a fucking clue what to do without you. I love every little thing about you, including everything you loathe about yourself. You’re so beautiful, and I can’t fathom why you don’t see what I see. But I don’t care, I want you to see yourself like I see you. I want you to understand how unbelievably stunning you are, even now in my huge t-shirt and your little shorts, with no make-up and your hair just doing whatever… I know I don’t always tell you how I feel, that I love you, that you are absolutely everything to me. You’re my world, Tally.”

She had tears in her eyes before Jonathan had even really gotten started. He hated seeing her like this, but there was a small twinge of hope residing within his chest that if he continued to move forward… he would be able to make the tears all go away.

“You’re my end, my beginning. You’re everything in-between, and I can’t do this without you. You’re my stability when it comes to the craziness of my life, and I don’t want that to change.” Before Tally knew what was even happening, he had moved towards her slowly, and was now kneeling in front of her. The tears were flowing freely now, and it was everything Jonathan could do to not kiss each of them away. He had one more thing to say, though.

“Four weeks ago, I drug Patrick and Abby with me while you were at work…” he produced the small velvet clad jewelry box from his coat pocket, breaking eye contact just for a few moments to stare at it. A smile ghosted across his lips when he thought about their mini adventure, and glanced back up with a newly rekindled sense of confidence as Patrick Sharps words floated through his mind. 'Tazer, she loves you for you. Not the shit you can buy her. Whichever ring stands out to you is the right one, and she won’t be able to say no.'
Jonathan slowly cracked open the box, propping his elbow on one knee and gripping her left hand in his right. “Tally. I’ve been in love with you since day one. You’re the only girl I want to ever be with, the only girl I want beside me through everything. Would you… Would—Will you marry me?”

Tally couldn’t form any kind of proper response through the tears, though even if she wasn’t crying already he would have taken her breath away and still left her unable to speak. She tore her hand from his, both flying to cover her face as she sobbed.

Jonathan remained as still as a statue, fighting every instinct that told him to hold her, comfort her. Do something. But he stood his ground patiently, though the hopefulness slowly began to drain from his body. Slowly, painfully, like baking in the sun when you already have a blistering sunburn. His heart sank when she began to shake her head.

“Jon, I...” Tally took a deep, shaky breath. Her hands made a teepee over her nose and mouth as she exhaled slowly. “Yes.”

One word, less than a second. That’s all it took for Jonathan Towes world to entirely rebuild itself, and immediately he grabbed her left wrist, gently prying it away from her face and moving it down to his level. He pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles, a kiss that wholeheartedly mended Tally. He slowly slid the perfect diamond ring onto her slender finger until it sat perfectly, and the most dazzling of smiles overtook Jonathans face. She had never seen him look more happy in the entire time she’d known him; save for winning the Stanley Cup last year, but that was still a stretch. He rubbed his thumb across her fingers, loving the way the white-gold shined in the dim lighting of her kitchen.

Tally couldn’t believe she had honestly been so stupid to think Jonathan didn’t want to spend his life with her. It was written in everything he did, every day. Every time he looked her way, it was plastered over his forehead like a tattoo. It might as well have been on his jersey as well; his entire team, coaching staff, family, and all of his fans even saw the truth before she did. Tally had been so blinded by doing what was right for him, she couldn’t see that it was her.

He stood slowly, letting his fingertips brush up the smooth skin of her arms and rise goosbumps along their path. He towered over her when he was at his full height, smiling tenderly down at her. Tally was nervous, even after all this time, around Jonathan. Especially when she was under his burning gaze.

“So. Do you still want me to go?” asked Jon with a wink, pulling Tally close to his body by her hips. His hands slid familiarly along her back, leaving nothing untouched.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head softly. “Never, Jon. Don’t leave me.”

A low chuckle escaped his perfect lips before he pressed them against hers in the most loving of kisses. It was like their first kiss all over again, leaving Tally more than weak in the knees.

“Never,” he promised, kissing her again- this time longer and slower, letting every ounce of his need and love passing into her with each movement of his soft lips or strong hands. Jonathan pulled away only long enough to mumble against her lips, the words Tally had wanted to hear since she first met her. “I love you, future Mrs. Toews.”

“I love you too, baby.”