Nirvana

James had been up since six in the morning, he had been unable to sleep most of the night and finally stopped trying. He had breakfast with Mike, who was always up early anyway, especially now with a new baby, and had spent an hour throwing the ball with Sasha in the backyard after that. He went grocery shopping, not even aware that stores were open that early, and had gotten in a decent work out and a long shower before he found himself sitting in front of Diosa in his car.

He had spent a lot of time over the last few months sorting things in his life out, the conversation he had with Rich months ago was an eye opening one that was for sure. Two weeks after the conversation he’d finally pulled the trigger and sold his house in Pittsburgh, and got a Nashville cell phone number. He was finally putting roots down in his new home, but there was still a lot of ground left to cover. He had a lot of time to think about his life, and not just the way he treated the people in it but also the way he treated himself, and why he did the things he did.

In Dallas there was a lot of leadership and older guys to follow leads from, he didn’t fuck up there as much as he had been recently. He minded his own business, did his own thing but most importantly he had never hurt anyone the way he had hurt Harley when he was there.

Then there was Pittsburgh. That was a three novel series all in its own. He wasn’t sure he would ever sort through all of his Pittsburgh life but he knew one thing for sure; between the trade, meeting Sarah, and her leaving the way she did it was a wonder he had functioned this long without fucking up any worse than he had.

He had a picture perfect life when Sarah was around, he was happy, he was playing well, everyone in the locker room liked him, it felt like nothing could touch him. He was on a winning streak in life when he bought the ring, and then it all came crashing down when Sarah left him, telling him she couldn’t be with him. The way she looked at him, as if there was something wrong with him, had been burned into his mind since.

Not that he proved her wrong after that. He could have used her words against him, he could have went out and scored two goals every night and been top of the league, best on his team, he could have proved to her that she was missing out, that she made a mistake. Instead all he did was prove to her that she had made the exact right decision and that her harsh words weren’t unfounded.

All he had done was make it worse for himself, harder than it needed to be. There wasn’t a single player in the league that could honestly say they had never done anything stupid in their career, if they tried they’d be lying and James knew it. However it was like James just kept doing one stupid thing after another; a bad play here, several stupid penalties there. Then there was the five game suspension after kneeing a player in the face, something he couldn’t even give a reason for doing, something that in his opinion put a tiny black mark on his career that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

The five game suspension that came with that play wasn’t the only thing that changed his career and the way he played the game. With it came the line drawn in the sand that further separated he and his teammates, it came with backlash from fans and players alike, and it came with questions he simply couldn’t answer, even now. Like what he was thinking, why did he do it, and his absolute favorite; what was going on with him?

It also came with a daunting realization, one that he only realized earlier that month but he guessed everyone around him realized it then; that was the point of return. Everyone seemed to leave him to his own devices at that point not that he could blame them for it, he would have done it too, but it was his own behavior, his own life choices that got him traded, or so he chose to believe. It was him that got himself sent to Nashville, and that made him hurt Harley in the worst possible way he could have.

It was his own fault that he did the things he did but he had finally figured out why he did them. Why he seemed to fail himself over and over again, and why he sent the only person that was in his corner packing. He was his own worst enemy, and it was time to change that.

Harley was crouched down behind the bar looking for cleaning solution when the door chimed to signal that someone had walked in. She glanced at the clock on display on the mini fridge beside her, quarter to two in the afternoon. Without even getting up she called out, “We’re closed until four.”

There was no reply, no chiming of the door to signal that it had closed and whoever had walked in had left, there was only silence. So she stood up, straightening her tank top before looking toward the door, freezing when her eyes fell on James. His eyes met hers with a sort of sadness she had never seen in them, and he shifted on his feet before glancing around the bar again.

He was the first to speak, “Place looks great.”

Harley followed his gaze to the large caricature drawing above the wall of the booths, which James noted were now all black with red piping. Harley didn’t speak right away, instead she turned her eyes to him and kept them trained on him as he studied the changes in the bar since the last time he had been in there. She however studied him. His hair was longer than normal, and he had yet to shave his playoff beard, he looked exhausted but she chalked that up to the season ending and their early exit from the post season. After all, he didn’t look any more exhausted than Shea or Craig did, and they both had kids.

“I like your hair, it’s different but it looks good.” James told her, motioning to the much shorter cut that surprised him when he first walked in. Of course he had seen it in passing when he spent all that time sitting outside Diosa and Harley would walk past the window, but he had never seen it in person.

Finally Harley asked him, “What do you want?”

He turned to her, his eyes pleaded with her silently, and asked, “Can we talk?”

“About?”

He took a few large steps toward the bar, and Harley didn’t move from her spot but was glad they had the bar top as the buffer between them. He put his hands on the bar top and stated, “I’m not asking for you to even say a word. Just let me talk?”

Harley didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear anything he had to say but if she had learned anything from all those late night conversations with Jack, Jimmy and Johnny was that she still had a lot of unresolved feelings. Unresolved feelings that she knew wouldn’t just go away unless she took a chance to sort them out, and that chance was standing in front of her right now. So she told him softly, “Okay.”

James sat down at the bar and watched as she walked around the bar, surprising him by taking the stool beside him. He bit down on his lip hard and pushed his hair out of his face before turning to her to tell her, “I have no excuses, at least not ones I’m going to disrespect you with. I think I finally figured out a lot about myself over the last few months and if you’re interested I’d like to share it.”

Harley nodded slowly, tucking her hair behind her ears before she placed her hands in her lap and said, “Okay.”

James was both so relieved and terrified by her answer. He had no idea where to start, all the road trips leading up to the end of the season, their series against Chicago that definitely hadn’t gone as planned, all of it gave him the answers he was trying to find. Rich had told him that as cliché as it was you couldn’t even begin to try to love someone else if you didn’t love and understand yourself first. James wasn’t quite there but he was working on it and he was a hell of a lot further today than he was two months ago.

Pulling himself from his thoughts he cleared his throat and pushed his sweating palms into his jean clad thighs. He glanced up at her, to find her staring at the bar top instead of him, and finally told her, “I do stupid things. I do stupid things and I don’t think. I let my emotions lead my life, which in my line of work is never good, and I’ve always, always made bad choices. I’m not saying that’s an excuse Harley, believe me. I already told you I’m not going to disrespect you with bullshit excuses for what I did to you, to us.”

“So why did you do it?” It was the only real question she had for him, the only curious thing she wanted to know, and to Harley she felt like she deserved to know it, like he owed her this much.

“I have no idea. That’s not me trying to play it off or bullshit you. Harley…I honestly have no idea what made me do what I did. Just believe me when I say it had absolutely nothing to do with you. This was my mistake, I’m taking full responsibility, and it’s all on me. You did absolutely nothing.” James told her, watching as she nodded slowly but didn’t meet his eyes. Not that he was expecting her to anyway. Instead of letting her sit with this information he continued on, “I’ve always been a bit of a fuck up in life, hockey, and especially in relationships. I’ve never been good at keeping a good thing going.”

“So what…you’re saying you cheated on me because things were good between us?” Harley asked him incredulously. She had absolutely no idea what to make of that.

“No, not at all. I just… that came out wrong.” James fumbled through his words, his cheeks and ears pinked up and he cleared his throat again. Shoving a hand through his hair he told her softly, “I had a lot of time to think while we were apart and it occurred to me that I’ve never really sat down and tried to understand myself. So I finally did that.”

His eyes were on her when she turned to face him and asked, “And do you? Understand yourself?”

James shook his head, “Not entirely but I think that’s a life time job. I can say that I know why nothing good ever lasts in my life, and it’s not the usual excuses I always made up. It’s not you, or the team, or management or fans, it’s me.”

Harley looked at him for a few silent seconds, before she spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear her, “You’ve never given yourself enough credit you know.”

“I’ve ruined every good thing in my life.” James told her with a gentle, almost ashamed and embarrassed look on his face. Harley watched him with a soft expression, so torn between getting up and embracing him in a tight, warm up and waiting for him to finish. James caught her internal struggle, he was always so good at reading her, even in the short time they had known each other. He told her, “My intention wasn’t to make you feel bad for me. I don’t deserve that.”

“Everyone deserves sympathy James. The best people, even the worst of people, and definitely the people who can’t see what everyone else sees in them.” Harley stated with a warm smile.

James allowed himself to smile and before he knew it his eyes were watering. He put his head in his hands on the bar, turning away from her as if to shield himself from her eyes. Harley watched him try to compose himself, his back shaking, before she finally reached out and put her hand on his back, rubbing it gently through the material of his t-shirt. After a few minutes, without even turning to face her or moving, James told her, “You were the first person to believe in me and who I could be in a long time and I screwed that up.”

“Am I pissed and hurt over what you did? Yes. Do I trust you the way I used to? Absolutely not. But do I not believe in you, in the guy I know you are? James that’s never gonna change.” Harley told him, and James turned to look at her, his eyes red and surprised.

With a tired expression James started speaking again, his voice low and almost grumbly, “The guy you think I am? I was never sure I could be him, but I know he’s in here somewhere. I just don’t know how to be him right now, but I need you to know I want to be him, I want to be the man you think I am Harley.”

“I fell in love with the man I know you are, with this version of you James.” She told him softly, getting up from her chair to stand closer to him. She brushed his hair back from his face, her fingers cool against his hot skin, her hand running through his long hair, before it stayed at the back of his neck. Her thumb gently brushed against the skin at the back of his neck as James reached up and ran his thumb over the tiny scar above her forehead, his eyes flickering up to look at it before returning to her own eyes as his hand slid to the side of her neck.

“Do you still love me?” He asked her curiously.

She nodded slowly, resting her forehead against his, and James felt relief rush through him as she told him, “Of course I do.”

“I’m so sorry for all of this.” His voice was soft when he said this and she could tell he really did mean it. James however felt the need to add, “Really. I am.”

“I know, but does it change anything?”

He pulled his head away from hers enough so that he could look at her while he asked, “Doesn’t it?”

“We skipped all the steps James. We never spent the time to get to know each other, to understand each other. If we had this whole thing probably wouldn’t have even happened.” Harley told him, pulling away from him so they stood a few feet apart again. James felt a flood of cold where her body was, and he watched her chew on her bottom lip as she avoided her eyes.

“So let’s take the time. Let’s start from scratch.” James pleaded, watching as she still didn’t look up to meet his eyes. He sighed, pushed both hands through his hair and told her, “I’ve spent the last three months picking up the phone and hanging it up. I drive past here every day after practice and games thinking one of these days I’m gonna grow a pair of balls and come in here and tell you everything. I’ve spent months having this conversation in my head with every possible outcome I could think of.”

“Why are you telling me this now? Of all the times you could have?” Harley asked him, and he hung his head for a moment, tearing his eyes away from hers to look at the floor. He was silent for several seconds, and Harley simply stared at him, unsure of what to say or where they went from here.

“I’m telling you now, because I’m not asking for you to forgive me or for you to trust me again. I’m just asking, hell I’m begging, for a chance to earn all that back. I’m asking for a chance to fix this.” She allowed him to step forward, to make the distance between them smaller, and to take her hands in his, which surprised him. Though he shouldn't have been surprised, Harley may have been hot and cold during this conversation but it was evident in the way she spoke to him, in the things she said, that he still had a chance to fix this.

He surprised her by crashing his lips against hers, his hands cupping the sides of her face. Harley tensed for only a fraction of a second, before she relaxed into his touch and practically melted into him. She tilted her head back so he didn’t have to lean down so much, and as his tongue swiped across her bottom lip Harley opened her mouth, and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her hands into his back and he pulled her as tightly against him as he possibly could. Months. He had gone months without touching her, months without kissing her, and now that he was finally doing both he never wanted to stop.

However when the need for air became more important, more prevalent, they did part and Harley looked down at their feet. James watched her struggle for words for a few seconds, before he reached over and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the tears that had spilled over onto her cheeks. Harley looked up at him as he told her, “Tell me you don’t still feel something when I kiss you. Tell me that, honestly, and I’ll walk out the door and leave you alone. I’ll figure out how to be without you if you can honestly tell me you want me to leave.”

The only thing she could say to him was, “It’s not gonna work James. Your season is over, you’re going home for the summer. What are we supposed to do, work on our relationship through FaceTime?”

His expression was soft, and full of love when he told her, “Whitby isn’t home anymore, Pittsburgh isn’t, Nashville isn’t either. Harley you’re home to me. I don’t need to go home, I am home.”