Terrible Love

“I needed this.” I exhaled as I peeled back the small seal to the tiny plastic cup and held it over my coffee. Tilting the container, I watched as the half and half trickled down from the small opening and splashed into the dark brown liquid, quickly mixing with it. Once the coffee below my nose was a perfect peanut butter brown, I leaned back in the chair and set my hands down on the smooth linen table cloth.

Running my hands gently over the fabric, I let a long sigh pass my lips as I hooked my finger through the handle on the tiny black coffee cup and then looked up at the brunette sitting across from me, his bright eyes already zeroed in on my own.

Just by the way he looked at me, I knew he had a pretty good guess of what had happened the previous night. The bags under my eyes I had been trying so desperately to hid were fully showing, my face was paler than normal, and the usual sparkle in my eyes was completely washed out. I felt like my head was setting fire to my thoughts. I felt like my brain was shutting down my organs. I felt like everything took four times longer to process.

I felt like I was seriously losing my mind.

“What stupid thing did Jon do now?” Patrick sighed, his shoulders slumping foreword as he held his mug in one hand, while using the other to keep himself propped up right. Taking a small sip from his mug, his eyes stayed on mine, waiting for an answer.

Shaking my head, I dropped my vision to my mug and gnawed on the inside of my cheek as I thought about a proper was to respond to his question. I could have just told him what happened, I could have flat out told him the second Jon told me he loved me, I started to question every single thing in the universe. After everything we went through, all of the feelings for him I had periodically suppressed, I felt like I was creating these feelings of guilt and uncertainty just to knock myself down. I felt like a part of me wanted to relish in the fact that Jon and I finally had a chance, but another part of me was holding me back.

“He told me he loved me.” My lips went numb as the words trickled down them.


“Like, actually said it,” his eyes were wide as he stared at me, “Jon said ‘Aspen, I love you’?”


Nodding, I felt my nerves start to quake. A universal itch blanketed over every inch of my skin. I felt like millions of needles were poking into my skin. I felt like I was about to rip clumps of my hair out and scream until I started to choke on my own blood. “He meant it.”


“Did you-“

“I did.” I nodded.

“Did you mean it?”


“I did.”

Patrick simply nodded as he dropped his eyes from mine and ran them over every single thing on the table between us. His lips stayed in a straight line, his fingers hung loosely from his coffee mug, and they rhythm of his chest seemed to slow. Although I never wanted to see Patrick Sharp do anything but flash his million dollar smile, I couldn’t help but to feel relieved when he finally looked back at me and gave me the same confused and mildly worried expression that I had been sporting for the past eight or so hours.

After we had fallen into a comfortable silence, I found my eyes drowning themselves in the small pool of liquid below me. Every few minutes I would shift the mug abruptly and watch as small waves and ripples formed on the surface. My eyes followed them, letting the natural motions calm me down until the water evened out and I started the tiny wave pool again.

The waiter came back long after my mug of coffee had turned from lukewarm to cold. When he offered a refill, I politely declined and then looked across the table, sending all of the attention back on Patrick who had wanted to order an omelette. As he rambled off some egg white concoction, I dropped my attention back to my mug and tried to look like I wasn’t withering away to nothing in the small patio chair.

Thankfully Patrick spoke for me while I drowned my thoughts in my cold coffee. Once the waiter had retreated back into the small building and we were left alone again, the brunette reached across the table and pulled my right hand into his.

“Abby was super worried about you last night.” He admitted, his thumb slowly running across my knuckles, pausing for a few seconds every time he his the valley between them. “When she didn’t get a text about what was going on or that you got home okay, she went into worried mother mode.”

“I think I’m a little old to fit in with the kids.”


“Just a little.” Patrick and I shared a short stare and then smiled at each other, airy laughter filling the silent air around us as we dropped out eyes back into our own mugs. Taking a sip of the liquid, I scrunched up my nose and went to let out a small groan when Patrick started laughing at me, his eyes bright as he tilted his head back and ran his hand over his face.

Rolling my eyes, I set my mug back down in it’s little saucer and pressed my elbow into the table. “What’s so funny, Sharp?”


“Your face.” He rolled his eyes as he copied my position and ran a hand through his messy brown hair, “did you not realize that drinking cold coffee tasted like that?”


“Oh, shut the hell up.” I smiled over at the brunette and rolled my eyes, my body leaning back in the chair as I ran a hand through my hair and looked up at the light grey skies hanging above us. “I have other things on my mind that don’t pertain to wondering if my coffee tastes good or not.”


Patrick nodded, his bright eyes meeting mine and giving me the silent idea that he understood why I was stressing so much over something so small. It wasn’t about the idea of what came with telling Jonathan Toews that I loved him. I wasn’t worried about the extra stress by dating someone of his caliber. I wasn’t worried about getting along with the other girlfriends or the other guys on the team. I was only worried about how unbelievably fast this was all going.

One day he’s getting married, the next day he’s telling me that he loves me, like she never existed, like he hadn’t just cancelled several thousand dollar wedding plans, like his romantic life didn’t just completely come undone. I know Jon could bounce back from a loss within a few days, but bouncing back from something like that, from your girlfriend and finance of a good amount of years cheating on you? It just seemed so surreal.

I felt like he was pulling me in to forget about what happened, and that’s not what I had hoped for. The last thing I ever wanted to be for Jonathan Toews was a rebound.

The waiter came back a short time after and set down Patrick’s egg white omelette down and then turned to me and set down a chocolate muffin down in front of me. As my eyes ran over the plate, I looked up at the man and felt a smile creep onto my lips. 

“Looks like you needed it, on the house.” He gave me a wink as he turned on his heels and headed back into the restaurant. Blinking a few times, I looked out at the muffin sitting perfectly in the middle of the plate and shook my head, a wide smile forming as Patrick laughed at me from across the table.

“Can’t take you anywhere, huh?”


“Charm and confidence just oozes out of me, you know?”


“That explains why you could have the whole Chicago Blackhawks team wrapped around your finger in a matter of seconds.” Patrick picked up his fork and pointed at me, a wilted spinach leaf falling onto the table cloth. “You could run Chicago if you ever moved there.”


“Not the political type, honestly.” I smirked at the brunette and watched as he rolled his eyes and jerked his head back, his fork clattering against the edge of the plate.


“You’re impossible.”

“That sounds more Apen-esque.”


“You’re an idiot.”


“Your idiot.” I blew the man a kiss and then dropped the conversation, pulling my eyes from his and attaching them to the chocolate muffin in front of me as my fingers carefully pulled the top off, and set it down on the side of the plate. As I grabbed the bottom, I peeled back the wrapped and ripped off a huge chunk. As I took a bite of it, the smile on my face widened as I chewed.

Patrick and I sat in silence until he finished three quarters of his omelette and I had completely demolished the chocolate muffin I had been given. As I sipped at the glass of water on the table, I looked up casually just in time to catch the man across from me staring at me.

“You Jon is lucky to have you.”


“I hear that a lot but I’m still having a hard time believing it.”


“That’s because you think too much.”


“I think about things that need to be thought about, Sharp.”


“What are you thinking about right now?” He asked, placing his fork down and staring at me with his wide, bright eyes. When I pulled my eyes from his and dropped them to the few crumbs that lingered on my plate, I shrugged one shoulder and let a few thoughts swarm my vacant mind.

Nodding a little, I started to repeat all of the sentences rolling around in my head.


“Should I get more coffee? Is Jon going to be mad that I left this morning without making him pancakes? Does he realize that he’s using me to forget about what Laura did to him? Do I realize that he’s using me to forget about Laura? Is it worth it to play along with this? How long will it even last? Why don’t I just tell him I don’t want to be his rebound?”

“You’re deep.” Patrick let out a long sigh as he ran his hands through his hair and looked at me with a tired and worried expression on his face. “I’m not worried about Jon, but I’m really worried about you.”

I asked him why, and before I could even recompose myself from his first sentence, he laid another one on me that almost reduced me to a puddle of tears.

“Because I love you, Aspen. You’re like our little sister. The last thing Abby or I ever want to see is you broken up because Jon’s a fucking moron eighty percent of the time.”


“Ninety.” I corrected and watched as the seriousness on Patrick’s face lifted. Giving me a huge smile, he shook his head and then looked back down at the table.

“I honestly couldn’t think of anyone better for you than Jon.” The brunette across from me let out a long sigh and kept his eyes on the table cloth. “If it feels right, just got for it. But if it doesn’t,” he pulled his eyes up and placed them in mine. “I think you should be talking to him, not me.”



I didn’t go home. I couldn’t muster up the courage to face Jon. Every time his face flashed behind my eyes, all I could think about was his deep voice whispering those words to me. The words I had wanted to hear him say like that since I was old enough to realize that boys didn’t have cooties. I wanted to believe them so badly, I wanted to drop everything I owned and move to Chicago with him. I wanted to feel his lips on mine and his hands on my hips for the rest of my life, but there was something deep in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t let me.

It grounded me. It kept me out of the clouds, it nailed my feet to the earth beneath me and wouldn’t let me loose. It made me think, think about all of the things I was so willing to ignore just to be head over heels in love with this man. It made me realize that there was something off about my dream-like romance.

There was something off with the way he said ‘I love you.’

His words weren’t valid. They couldn’t be. There was no way, no matter how bad it was at the end, that Jon could switch from Laura to me like that. There was no way whatever we had going on was real, thought out, and wanted. I was needed. I was an easy out, a quick fix to temporarily patch the bleeding wound Laura had left in him. Even though, at the end, Laura and Jon weren’t getting along like the two lovesick kids I set up to date in the beginning, I knew he still loved her, I knew now, he still loved her.

Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I let out a long breath as I tried to calm my head from the rambunctious thoughts pounding against my skull. I wanted silence, I wanted the calm serenity that speaking with Sharp gave me. I wanted to know I was cared about, I wanted to know that someone was on my side in this.

I wanted someone to shake me until I woke up, until I realized that what I was doing with Jon, what I was putting myself through wasn’t worth it. I was strong, I was independent, I made myself who I was today, and I didn’t do that by thinking about Jon everyday.

I didn’t get my house, and my car, and every other thing I bought for myself by relying on other people.

So why have I suddenly put my happiness into the hands of Jonathan Toews?

By the time I had finally made it back to my house, it was around three-thirty in the afternoon, and my stomach was tearing itself apart form hunger. Parking the car at the end of the driveway, I sucked in a deep breath and slowly pulled my body out of it. Walking up to the front door, I ran a hand through my hair and then after a deep inhale and a long exhale, I pushed the door open and looked up to see a vacant living room.

“Hey Jon?” I called out into the house. When I heard no response, I felt my heart rate start to pick up as I quickly checked all of the rooms on the bottom floor and then hurriedly ran up the stairs. Pushing the doors open to all of the rooms, I got to the second door on the right and went to push it open when I heard the light sound of a female voice form the other side.

Eyes wide, my whole body started to shake and in a moment of pure courage, I pushed the door open. As my eyes lifted from the floor and landed on the two people on the bed, I felt every cell in my body freeze. The worry left my veins, the anxiety left my nerves, and the care left my heart.

For a moment, as the three of us stood there, staring at each other, I thought that I had fallen asleep in my car and was just dreaming this, but the second I felt Jon’s hands on my arms, and I felt his erratic hot breath beating down against my lips, I realized that this nightmare I had walked into was real.

“Aspen, I-“


“Get the fuck out.” My hands were shaking as I pressed them on Jon’s chest and shoved him backwards, widening my personal bubble. “Both of you, get the fuck out of my house.”


“I’m sorry… Aspen, I-,” I looked over at the woman sitting on the bed, holding her shirt that was once discarded on the floor against her chest. As she looked at me with wide eyes, I noticed the bright blue contacts that were covering the real color of her irises. Stomach growing sick, I tore my eyes from hers and looked over at Jon, the bright brown eyes that used to make my knees week now made me want to throw up.

Shaking my head, I parted my lips to speak when I simply shut them and abruptly turned on my heels, my organs being consumed by fire as my shaking body made it’s way from the doorway of the guest bedroom over to the staircase. Step by step, I felt my breathing get heavier and my mind grow cloudier. I wanted to scream, I wanted to scream until every window in the house was shattered, until my lungs filled with blood and my vocal chords collapsed. I wanted to throw my fists into the sheet rock surrounding me, I wanted to pull at my hair until the pain from the strands being extracted from my skull overpowered the gaping wound in my heart.

I had let him torture me, I had let his words sink into my skull, I had let him run my life for the past few weeks. I had given him everything, been there for him through everything, I held him in his worst moments and celebrated his best. I let him use me, I always let him use me, and this time was no different.

Letting my body collapse onto the sofa, I kept my eyes on the coffee table, my lips pressed into a thin line as I watched Laura walk across the room, her tight v-neck now clinging to her curves. Not acknowledging her, I kept my breathing at the fast pace I merged to steady it at, and waited until she closed the front door to slam my fists into the table in front of me, my body aching from the impact.

As minutes ticked by, and my thoughts started to drown me, I tried to make myself believe that I was sleeping. I couldn’t believe what I walked in on, I couldn’t believe that Jon would toy with my emotions like that and then…

“Aspen.” Jon’s voice broke into my head, setting every thought I had on fire. Through the chaos of my brain, I looked up at the man, watching as his eyes widened when he took the minute to examine the expression blanketed over my face. The sight of him made my heart race, it made my skin crawl and my stomach sick. I felt like punching him, I felt like taking everything he had and throwing it out. I felt like tearing my skin off and waiting for a new layer of skin to grow back over me. I didn’t want his fingers to have ever touched a cell on my body.

Shaking my head, I pressed my hands tightly against each other as he walked closer to me, his shaking hands coming into my peripheral as he sat down on the coffee table and pressed his fingertips roughly against his thighs.


We sat in silence for a few minutes. The way his eyes traced over me made me sick to my stomach, but instead of screaming at him like I had planned, all I could do was stare at the floor and force myself to keep the tears building up behind my eyes in the back of my head. I refused to let Jon see me cry. I refused to let him see how badly this little incident tore at my heart strings. I refused to let him know just how much I wanted his words to be true.

I refused to let him know how much I loved him.

“I want you to get out of the house.”


“Can we talk about this, Aspen?”


“No.” I stated firmly, my jaw clenching from the rage swelling inside of me.


Shaking his head, Jon pushed the coffee table back to make room for him to kneel down in front of me. As he did, his rough hands slipped not my knees, making the urge to scream crawl further and further up my throat. Lightly pressing his fingers into my skin, he whispered my name again and then managed to get his eyes aligned with mine.

When my eyes finally met the dark brown pools I had fallen in love with, I lost it.

“How the fuck could you put me through this, Jon?” I snapped, pushing his hands off of my knees roughly. “How could you tell me you fucking love me and then fuck your slut of an ex within the same twenty-four hours.”


“I didn’t sleep with her, Aspen.”


“Oh, so both of you half naked in my spare fucking bedroom was just you two talking? You totally weren’t going to keep going if i didn’t walk in, right?” I was livid at this point, my voice breaking from the high level it was being projected at. “You’re just as big as a scumbag as her, no wonder I thought you two were so perfect for each other.”


Shaking his head, Jon went to grab my hands when I stood up from the couch and threw my foot down against the floor, a lout hollow thud putting the house in an eerie silence.

“Apsen, I wasn’t lying about what I said last night.” Jon whispered, his voice shaking as he held his hand out to me, his fingers trembling in the stale air that surrounded us.

Looking out at his hand, I slowly followed up his arm and across his chest. When I stuck my eyes back on his, I watched as a wave of tears broke thought the glistening sheet of water in his eyes. Small beads of water trickling down his strong cheeks, I felt no remorse about the way I had reacted. There was no part of me that wanted to console him, there was no part of me that wanted to hug him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. I didn’t want to hear his voice, I didn’t want to feel his touch, I didn’t even want to smell the faint scent of his cologne.

I wanted him out from in front of me, out of my house, and out of my life.

“Pack everything and get out.”


“No, you… We have to just talk about this Aspen, please I can’t lose you like this.”

“Enough of this bullshit Jon.” I roared, using every ounce of self control I had from not throwing my fists wildly at the man in front of me. “I’m tired of you using me, I’m tired of you lying to me. I’m tired of you. This is it.”

Voice ending in a whisper, I watched as Jon’s eyes widened as he slowly shook his head, his hands trying to attach onto the fabric of my shirt as I walked away from him and headed into the kitchen, my hands shaking with anger as I grabbed a water bottle form the fridge and unscrewed the cap. Taking a sip from it, I listened as the heavy footsteps stopped at the doorway.


“I love you, Aspen.”


“I don’t,” I held the water bottle tightly in my hands as I looked down at the white swirls dancing across the large section of marble in front of me. “I don’t love you, Jon. I don’t.”


“Please, can we just talk about this like adults, Aspen.” Jon was desperate. It was a tone in his voice that I had only heard once before. It was a tone that I never wanted to hear again, but now that it hit my ears, I didn’t feel any emotions towards him. I didn’t want to let him talk, I didn’t want to hear what he had to say, I just wanted him to leave.

Shaking my head, I took the water bottle I was drinking from and threw it against the wall. As the cap popped off and the water exploded all over the other side of the room, I turned to him, the tears that had been building up behind my eyes flooding my cheeks. Hands shaking, I slammed them down against the marble again and listened as the man standing near me tried to hold his breath.


“I’m tired of this.” I screamed, my eyes latching onto his as I struggled to push words past my hysterics. “I’m tired of being your back-up, I’m tired of caring so much about you when this is all I fucking mean to you. I’m tried of over thinking things, I’m tired of hanging off of every word you say to me. I’m tired of you fucking using me as a fill in for your indecent sluts you fuck. Everything I fucking have is because I relied on myself because if I relied on people like you, this is all I would be, and after everything I’ve been through, after all of the shit I overcame to do this, I won’t let you take it from me. I won’t let you be my downfall Jonathan Toews, I’m stronger than that. I refuse to let some heartless asshole like yourself tear me down.”


Jon went to speak when I shook my head and wiped the tears from my eyes. Looking up into his eyes, I felt my whole body stiffen as I parted my lips again.


“I never want to speak to you again, Jon, and I mean it this time.”