Terrible Love

It was six in the morning when I had made my first cup of coffee. During the week I would usually wake up this early and spend time looking through the news paper and enjoy whatever clouds were floating in the sky out of my window. I enjoyed the early morning silence, the sunrise and the soft chill in the air. I normally enjoyed being alone as I took in the start of my day, but as I wrapped an old sweater of Abby’s around my shoulders and sat in the middle of Sharp’s backyard with my half full cup of coffee, all I wanted was a shoulder to rest my head against. I wanted the faint smell of cologne and the sound of another heartbeat next to me. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t want to be alone with my own thoughts.

All I could think about was the way I kissed Jon the previous night, the way he begged me, the way his voice strained when he spoke to me, the way his fingers trembled for me to just be within arms reach. He was crumbling right in front of me, and I was falling for it all again. I was falling for our history, for his teddy bear brown eyes and his deep voice. I was wrapped up in the nostalgia, wrapped up in the could-be’s. My mind was sinking back to how badly I wanted him, sinking back to how I believed he was it.

“I brought you a blanket. I could see you shivering from the house.” I blinked hard as the voice rang through my head. Furrowing my eyebrows, I looked down and finally took notice to the way my body was vibrating. Looking over to the green mug firmly placed between my hands, I watched as the little ripples formed in the liquid.

Nodding my head, I set the coffee mug down and carefully wrapped the end of the blanket around me. As the warmth from it started to sink into my skin, I glanced over and watched as the man sat down next to me, keeping his side of the blanket in his lap, his strong hands folded in the middle of it.

“Kris told me about what happened yesterday.”


“Yeah?”


“I wanted to rip his face off.” There was a hint of aggression in his voice that quickly faded by the next sentence, “But he was right, for the first time in his life, probably.” Jon cracked a smile as he looked at me. I could tell by the way his large brown eyes held mine, that he was waiting on the edges of my lips to curl up, but after a minute of silence, he nodded his head and continued, “I’ve been playing the victim in all of this, and I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, my lungs hurting from the breath I had subconsciously holding since I set the blanket down around me. My chest was tight, the back of my throat had the tingling sensation of being sliced up by a few thousand razor blades, and all I wanted to do was press my face against his chest. I knew it was stupid, that falling back into this daydream would just hurt me in the end like it had before, but I wanted it. While the bad had left me crying hysterically in the Sharp’s bathroom, the good was some of the best time I had ever spent with another human.

The past we had, the moments we shared together, they were moments that I couldn’t imagine sharing with anyone else. Moments that I never wanted to lose, never wanted to taint because they’re what made this bond that I had to Jon so strong. I would still rather watch the man I had been crushing on since I was a young pre-teen get married to a woman than never have to hear his laughter or calming words again in my life.

Out of pure anger, I had banished him from my life, but there was always something deep in the pit of my stomach that knew we would reconvene sometime. There was always this pit of hope in my mind that had me believing no matter what I said, that the next time I saw him I would fall back into whatever words he wrapped me up in.

“I had no reason to be mad at you.”


“Are you joking?” Jon let out a soft laugh as he shifted his body closer to mine. Without a single word, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him. As soon as the lingering smell of cologne on his shirt hit my sinuses, my head dropped to the side and my eyes fluttered shut. After a few seconds, Jon rested his head on mine and pulled the blanket closer to us. “You have every reason in the world to be mad at me, Aspen. I finally realized that all of the shit I put you through was because I was afraid of getting married and afraid of being alone. I was taking all of these feelings I had for you since I was younger and stupider and trying to push them out all at once.”


“I think the stupid has been pretty even since.” I felt Jon’s cheeks move as a smile spread across his face. After a few seconds of light laughter, he let out a sigh and then picked his head up, his arms trying to pull me even closer to him.

“There was never a day that went by when I didn’t think about you. I always thought about when you went to my games. I remember scanning the crowds, hoping to see your face. I remember the tightness in my chest when I thought you didn’t show, then when I saw you, it was like I believed that I could win the whole game myself. When I got to Chicago, my very first game, I remember scanning the crowd for you. I remember how anxious I was when I realized how many people were there. Thousands, there were thousands and I couldn’t make out any of them as you. I remember there was a part of me that wanted to run back into the locker room.”

“You never told me this.” I whispered, tears threatening to fall down my cheeks as Jon’s lips curled into a smile again.

“I was worried you would get all weirded out by it. I know that whenever I was super sentimental to you and I had a girlfriend, you would get a little bent out of shape about it. So I kept it to myself.” I nodded a little, remembering the countless times where Jon would ask to sleep in my bed like he used to when he stayed over and I forced him to sleep in it alone while I slept on my tiny futon. He was always a little taller than me, and I refused to let him sleep on something that could barely fit his whole body the night before a practice or game which was almost everyday.


“Hm.” I whispered, afraid that when I spoke he would hear the strain and crack in my voice that was a sure sign that I was about to cry my eyes out.

Jon and I stayed quiet for what felt like hours before the memories swimming in my head had finally cleared. I focused in on that day Jon was talking about. His first NHL game, the first game in Chicago, the very first night wearing his infamous number nineteen on national television. I remember watching him on the ice, the way he tried to stay focused but couldn’t help but to let his eyes wander around the arena. At the blue line during the national anthems, I remember seeing his skates twitch, his eyes dart around, and his eyebrows furrow. I wanted to jump down from my seat and run out onto the ice. I wanted to give him a hug, show him that even though I said I couldn’t make it, that I was there.

“When I saw your smile during the start of the second period, I thought I was going to lose it.” Jon whispered just as I started to think about the way his big brown eyes lit up as they connected with mine, sitting three tows form the ice, wearing his jersey proudly. I remember getting the numbers pressed onto it the night of the game. I remember watching them line it up and smile at me like I was crazy. They told me this was the first Toews jersey they ever pressed and I remember nodding my head and telling them, without an ounce of doubt in my voice, that this would be far from the last.

“I spent every dime I had saved up on a flight and those tickets.”

“I remember yelling at you for that after the game when we went to get dinner.” Jon’s voice sounded strained for a moment before he recomposed himself. “After seeing you there, every bit of anxiety I had kind of went away. I was nervous, I wanted to impress everyone and stay on the second line, but… Seeing you I believed that I could, hell, I believed I could be on the first line that night, and I played like it because of you.”

I nodded, the tears I had been so desperately trying to hold back finally rolling down my cheeks.

The sun was starting to peek out from behind the trees that lined the Sharp’s backyard, and the shiver that was once running wild through my limbs had quieted. Shutting my eyes, I felt Jon move a little and then stop when my tears had finally created a damp circle on the shoulder of his t-shirt.


“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m sorry I stopped going to games.” I blurted out, “I don’t know… I don’t know how I got so… closed off form your life.” Guilt was starting to tear through my body as I thought about how often I used to see Jon to how rarely his face entered the days after college.


“Your career is more important than blowing obscene amounts of money on ice level seats to my games, Aspen.” Jon let out a chuckle as he carefully pulled away from me and then tilted my face up so our eyes could align. “I was never home, you were always studying or working on projects. Then Laura came along, I got swept up in her, you were making millions building houses, and we just sort of drifted.”

Shaking my head, I remember the weeks I went without talking to Jon. I remember just sitting in my office at the time when I worked in an architect firm and staring at the NHL score app. I remember keeping a tally of his stats on the wall in front of my drafting table. Every night there was a game I would have it streaming on my computer while I sketched out horrible plans of redesigned corporate meeting rooms. I remember how miserable I was doing this tedious and uncreative work. I remember how I wished I moved to Chicago, got away from Winnipeg and started something new.

I remember sitting at my desk one night, the same night I got my first personal commission. The feeling in my chest was tight, my limbs shook, and my mind was torn in two. I wanted so badly to become my own company. I wanted to be able to pick and choose the designs I could do, I wanted to be able to design homes, fantasize about how their rooms could look, color in the sketches and draw up furniture. I wanted to dream and create like I did in college.

Through the worry and doubt in my head, I called Jon for the first time in weeks that night. It was nearing two in the morning, I knew he had a game that night, but I just needed to try. I needed to hear his voice and let it calm me down. I was so worked up, so worried about quitting this cozy job and trying to do this on my own, that I just needed him. I just needed to hear the smile in his voice when he said my name.

He answered the phone on the first ring. Instead of singing one of his last hello’s into the phone like he normally did, the first thing he said, in a fast and anxious tone was ‘are you okay?’ I remember how hard that one sentence made me cry. It was instant, like his voice has flipped this switch that I never realized I had.

I could recite that conversation word for word, now years later.



Tears were rushing from my eyes as I stared down at the nearly vacant drafting table beneath my fingertips. The letter of resignation I had typed up was sitting in front of me, perfectly folded in threes to fit in the envelope I had addressed to my boss. My handwriting was shaky on the envelope, but it still held its usual clean lined edges. I had spent most of the hours of the day typing this letter. I would write paragraphs and delete them, I would save a draft and then delete it. I would change my mind halfway through a word and get angry through some sentences.

There was a rustling on the other end of the phone that was glued to my ear. My lips trembled as I shook my head and cursed myself for doing this to him. His voice was strained and filled with worry as he excused himself from the table. The chair dragged against the tile, it was a distinct and eerie sound. I heard the rustling of him walking, his quick footsteps and then after the sound of something slamming, all I could hear was his uneven breathing.

“Aspen, babe, you have to t-tell me whats wrong.” He was so worried that I could hear the tremble in his voice. I could picture him standing outside on the cold Chicago streets in a loosened up dress shirt and his messy brown hair. I could almost smell the fresh scent of his deodorant and shampoo.

Shaking my head, I sucked in a deep breath and shut my eyes, wishing that the scent was more than just my memory. “I think I’m going to quit my job.”


“Whoa, what, why?” I could tell this made him worry more.

“I… I got a commission.” My eyes wandered across my desk until they reached the gird paper with Jon’s stats neatly written on it. “It’s a pretty well known building company here… They said… They said depending on how this design went over that we could partner.”


Jon was silent for a while before he choked out a laugh and then spoke loudly into the phone. “Aspen, that’s fucking fantastic!”


“I’m scared.”


“This is what you’ve been dreaming of since you were that little nerd in high school, Aspen. You’ve worked so hard for this. There were nights I would text you half asleep to make sure you were okay and you were a fucking insomniac drawing million dollar mansions for fun.” Jon couldn’t help but laugh through the phone which instantly calmed my nerves. “This is who you are.”

“What if I fail?”

“You couldn’t fail if you tried. You have too much heart in this to fail, your brain is too big to accept something like that.”


“I don’t think that’s how that works, Jonny.” I laughed into the phone, feeling my body warm as I closed my eyes and listened to Jon’s laugh through the phone. “I knew you could make me feel better.”

We were silent for a minute before Jon let out a long sigh and then inhaled deeply. “Aspen.” his breath was airy and the sound of my name nearly destroyed my brain. I saved the way he said my name, replaying it through the silence that soon followed. When he finally spoke again, I couldn’t help but start crying again. “I love you more than anything in this world, and no matter what happens, I will be there to pick up the pieces, understand?”

I could only nod as tears flooded my cheeks.

“If you told me to come right now I would get into my car and drive until I got to you.”

“Jon, that’s fourteen hours,” I croaked.

“I would drive days to make sure you were okay.”


“What did I do to deserve you?” I cried out, my heart swelling from his words.

“I should ask you the same thing.”


“I hate you.” I laughed, my heart swelling as the sound of Jon’s laughter filled my head. After a few minutes, he let out a long sigh and then went back to his quiet whispering voice.


“I love you, blondie.”



Jon just held me as I cried. I was sitting in his lap now, my head resting against his shoulder as he set soft kisses against the side of my head. His heart was racing under my ear, and his hands were leaving fire trails across my skin, but I didn’t dare move. I never wanted to move. I never wanted anyone else, I never wanted to move on or keep Jon as a memory. He was the only person that believed in me, the only person that was there for me at three in the morning when I hated myself, he was the only person that understood my drive, understood my dreams. He could read me like a book, read me better than I could read myself, and I needed that. I needed someone to pull me out of the ditches I dug myself into, I needed someone that knew I was upset before I realized it.

Thankfully, as the sun finally took its spot in the sky, Jon didn’t speak or move. He stayed in the same spot, running his hands across the same paths, kissing the same spot on my skin. His heart rate had fallen back to a comfortable pace, and his cheeks stayed dry despite how much I knew he hated seeing me like this. He may have come across as this emotionless stone pillar during games, but I saw the other side of Jonathan Toews. The side that no one else got to see. The side I had fallen in love with.

“I love you.” I whispered, my body shivering as I felt every muscle in his body tighten. As I sat there, my mind reeling from the silence, I went to speak again when Jon shifted us until my eyes were aligned with his, and his fingers were gently resting under my chin.

Leaning in, he set a soft kiss against my lips and then pulled away, his large brown eyes glassy, but holding that beautiful shimmer from the sunlight.


“I love you too, blondie.”