Apricity
window
It was unusually chilly for the first week of October in the city of Philadelphia. The city goers were bundled up tightly, scarves covering most of their faces as they quickly weaved in and out of the slow walking people on the sidewalk. At every corner, conversations blended into a loud mumble and a momentary warmth pushed through the layers of clothing from the bodies on either side of me. It was nice to feel warmth from other people, I just wished it wasn’t fifteen strangers in the middle of the city.
The light turned red and everyone took off across the street at their various paces. Men in suits took large steps and broke away from the group while the older men and women hung back, leaving a few middle aged people to walk through the cross-walk at a steady pace. Looking from side to side, I took in the faces on either side of me and then looked back down at my feet, letting the muscle aching loneliness sink in.
It’s been months since I really had done anything social aside from go to work. Weekends were spent watching Netflix, walking Harley, and working out. Weeknights were spent pretty much doing the same thing. I worked nearly twelve hours a day and slept around eight every night. Life was becoming a blur, messages rarely appeared on my phone. The few I did receive were usually concerned blocks of text from friends I distanced myself from. I would skim the message, take out the key points, and then respond with an equally large block of text explaining that I just needed some time to sort everything out.
In reality, my life was still a mess and I was putting no effort into sorting things out.
When Claude and I had broke it off, I thought I would be fine. The first week, I felt empowered. My brain was pushing the ‘independent woman’ attitude. My work ethic sky rocketed, my self-confidence and self-worth was at it’s highest point, and I forced myself to believe that I was fine, that I was better off without him.
Then I watched him kiss another woman.
From that night on, I had been a wreck.
The world lost its color.
Food lost its taste.
I wanted no part of the world outside of my office or outside of my new apartment. When I would walk Harley through the city and the park, I would try to keep my eyes off of other people. When he would meet other dogs, I put on a smile and tried to seem interested in the light conversation made between the other dog-owner and myself, but nothing ever stayed in my head. Names would go through one ear and immediately out of the other. I tried to keep tabs on the people I saw frequently, but my brain was not having any part of making friends.
A large brick building appeared in my sights as I turned down the next block. Sucking in a deep breath, I let my eyes trail up the edge of the building until they hit the tenth floor. Once there, they jumped over seven windows until they landed on the one full length window that was in the middle of my living room. As I grew closer, I squinted and tried to see if Harley was in his usual spot, scanning the people on the sidewalk by the front door.
“Whoa!” The loud voice knocked me out of my trance with the window and shocked myself back into reality. Gasping, I felt my body jerk backwards, my limbs not having time to react as I fell backwards. Just as I embraced for the impact of the sidewalk, I felt a heavy pressure around my hips and shoulders. As the world flew around me, I shut my eyes tightly and tried to stop the wave of dizziness rushing over me.
Once I didn’t feel like throwing up, I opened my eyes and looked up, my heart nearly stopping as my eyes connected with a familiar pair of bright blue eyes.
“Quinn, what the fuck are you doing?”
I fell silent as I looked up into his eyes. My heart was racing, thousands of emotions were rushing through my head, and every nerve in my body was ready to explode. Every part of my body he was holding was on fire, even through all of my layers of clothing. My throat was dry, but my eyes were instantly wet. I wanted the tears to blur out his clear his face was. I wanted my brain to erase the way he looked down at me, so worried, so caring.
“Don’t touch me, please.” I mumbled as I pulled myself away from him and stumbled a little. Once I regained my balance and bumped into a man talking loudly on his cell phone, I turned on my heels and started to head in the opposite direction of my apartment building. I lost all care about seeing Harley through my windows. I didn’t care about making myself a large mug of tea. I just wanted to be away from him. I wanted the cold air to cancel out the warmth rushing through my body.
I wanted to forget his face, so perfectly clear in the overcast day. The second our eyes connected, I felt like I could see thousands of colors I hadn’t seen in years. I felt like my lungs could hold more air than ever before. I felt like I had just ran a marathon and came in minutes before the other contestants.
I felt whole.
“Quinn! Quinn, please don’t walk away from me, we need to talk.” His voice made my ears itch.
Shaking my head, I sunk deeper into my scarf, wishing that it would consume me whole and transport me to a place where I didn’t have to think about him, where I didn’t have to see his face when I shut my eyes.
“Quinn, please-“ I stopped abruptly and listened as the man that was chasing after me stumbled to a halt nearly inches from me. is heavy breathing was tickling my ears, making my bottom lip quiver. The soft blow of warm air reminded me of all of the times where he would fall asleep holding me, his face buried into the back of my head, his lips slightly parted as a warm stream of air would pass through is teeth and blow against the top of my head.
I was shaking when I turned around to face him.
“What do you want?” I couldn’t find it in me to utter his name.
“I want you to come to the home opener tonight.”
I stayed silent.
“The guys could really use you tonight.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Memories started to flood my head of seeing the guys before the game. Most of them said my smile was enough to put them in a good mindset for puck drop. They would kiss my forehead for luck.
Claude would kiss me for good luck, and very rarely did he ever have a bad game after that.
“We miss you.”
I looked down, tears pushing against the back of my eyes.
“I miss you, Quinn.”
“Did you miss me when you fucked that girl in New York?”
“Quinn.”
“Did you?”
“I-“
“Tell the guys I said good luck.” I huffed, finally gaining the courage to look back into his eyes. “You on the other hand, can take a puck to the teeth.” I snapped and quickly turned away from him, my stomach sick and head pulsing as I headed down to the next block, trying to push the way he said my name to the back burner of my thoughts.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I found myself sitting on the couch, a glass of honey whisky in one hand, and the other scratching the top of Harley’s head as I watched the Flyer’s home opener. I knew ninety percent of the players on the ice, and as I thought about them in the locker room or at team functions, I started to feel guilty for not stopping by before the game.
“Do you miss daddy, Har?”
Harley’s ears perked as he picked his head off of my thigh and looked at me, his ears pointed up and eyes wide. After a moment of staring at me, he turned toward the apartment door and let out a small whine. Nodding, I kissed his nose and then leaned back into the couch, my stomach knotting as I watched his number twenty-eight fly across the screen.
“Yeah, I do too.”
He let out a hearty woof and then plopped his face back on my thigh. Scratching behind his ears, I finished the last bit of liquid in my glass and stretched over to the side table and set it down on a coaster. Turning back toward the television, I watched as two bodies collided in the corner of the boards. Both falling to the ice, I watched intently as the man in the white jersey quickly popped back up and was immediately taken into a headlock by Simmonds.
Blinking hard, I watched as the camera zoomed in on the scrum, showing the orange jersey still on the ice, the number twenty-eight not moving.
I jumped up and walked over to the television, Harley following close behind me, keeping his body against my leg as he looked at the door, his ears perked. “Get the fuck up, Claude.” I whispered, his name setting fire to my already chapped lips.
The medical trainer for the team was kneeling next to Claude for a second, and then the channel cut to commercial. Running a hand through my hair, I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed Brittany’s number. Her and I would always go to games together, and she was of the only wives from the team that kept in close contact with me throughout the past months.
She answered on the first ring.
“He’s up, Quinn.”
“Is he okay?” I whispered, my heart racing as images of Claude being rolled out on a stretched flashed through my head.
“He barely made it off of the ice with Bray and the trainer. They’re probably going to take him to-“
“Concussion?”
“Go see him, Quinn.”
“You think-“
“You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t want too. "
I thanked Brittany a few times before promising to see her soon and ending the phone call. Looking down, I watched as Harley plopped down and pawed at my feet, whining in the process. Shaking my head, I walked over to the front door and quickly grabbed my bag and slipped into my moccasins. Shrugging on my forest green coat, I turned to Harley and sighed.
“I’ll be back later Har, okay?”
Huffing, Harley turned from me and walked over to the couch, his deep brown eyes focusing on the TV as it played in the background of my thoughts.
Grabbing my keys between my shaking fingers, I walked out of the front door, locked it, and then headed over to the stairs. Jogging down the ten flights, I thought about what would happen when I got to the hospital, but every possible conversation was blocked out by the thought of him being hurt.
He broke me into a thousand pieces, but every piece missed him more than I was ever willing to admit.
The light turned red and everyone took off across the street at their various paces. Men in suits took large steps and broke away from the group while the older men and women hung back, leaving a few middle aged people to walk through the cross-walk at a steady pace. Looking from side to side, I took in the faces on either side of me and then looked back down at my feet, letting the muscle aching loneliness sink in.
It’s been months since I really had done anything social aside from go to work. Weekends were spent watching Netflix, walking Harley, and working out. Weeknights were spent pretty much doing the same thing. I worked nearly twelve hours a day and slept around eight every night. Life was becoming a blur, messages rarely appeared on my phone. The few I did receive were usually concerned blocks of text from friends I distanced myself from. I would skim the message, take out the key points, and then respond with an equally large block of text explaining that I just needed some time to sort everything out.
In reality, my life was still a mess and I was putting no effort into sorting things out.
When Claude and I had broke it off, I thought I would be fine. The first week, I felt empowered. My brain was pushing the ‘independent woman’ attitude. My work ethic sky rocketed, my self-confidence and self-worth was at it’s highest point, and I forced myself to believe that I was fine, that I was better off without him.
Then I watched him kiss another woman.
From that night on, I had been a wreck.
The world lost its color.
Food lost its taste.
I wanted no part of the world outside of my office or outside of my new apartment. When I would walk Harley through the city and the park, I would try to keep my eyes off of other people. When he would meet other dogs, I put on a smile and tried to seem interested in the light conversation made between the other dog-owner and myself, but nothing ever stayed in my head. Names would go through one ear and immediately out of the other. I tried to keep tabs on the people I saw frequently, but my brain was not having any part of making friends.
A large brick building appeared in my sights as I turned down the next block. Sucking in a deep breath, I let my eyes trail up the edge of the building until they hit the tenth floor. Once there, they jumped over seven windows until they landed on the one full length window that was in the middle of my living room. As I grew closer, I squinted and tried to see if Harley was in his usual spot, scanning the people on the sidewalk by the front door.
“Whoa!” The loud voice knocked me out of my trance with the window and shocked myself back into reality. Gasping, I felt my body jerk backwards, my limbs not having time to react as I fell backwards. Just as I embraced for the impact of the sidewalk, I felt a heavy pressure around my hips and shoulders. As the world flew around me, I shut my eyes tightly and tried to stop the wave of dizziness rushing over me.
Once I didn’t feel like throwing up, I opened my eyes and looked up, my heart nearly stopping as my eyes connected with a familiar pair of bright blue eyes.
“Quinn, what the fuck are you doing?”
I fell silent as I looked up into his eyes. My heart was racing, thousands of emotions were rushing through my head, and every nerve in my body was ready to explode. Every part of my body he was holding was on fire, even through all of my layers of clothing. My throat was dry, but my eyes were instantly wet. I wanted the tears to blur out his clear his face was. I wanted my brain to erase the way he looked down at me, so worried, so caring.
“Don’t touch me, please.” I mumbled as I pulled myself away from him and stumbled a little. Once I regained my balance and bumped into a man talking loudly on his cell phone, I turned on my heels and started to head in the opposite direction of my apartment building. I lost all care about seeing Harley through my windows. I didn’t care about making myself a large mug of tea. I just wanted to be away from him. I wanted the cold air to cancel out the warmth rushing through my body.
I wanted to forget his face, so perfectly clear in the overcast day. The second our eyes connected, I felt like I could see thousands of colors I hadn’t seen in years. I felt like my lungs could hold more air than ever before. I felt like I had just ran a marathon and came in minutes before the other contestants.
I felt whole.
“Quinn! Quinn, please don’t walk away from me, we need to talk.” His voice made my ears itch.
Shaking my head, I sunk deeper into my scarf, wishing that it would consume me whole and transport me to a place where I didn’t have to think about him, where I didn’t have to see his face when I shut my eyes.
“Quinn, please-“ I stopped abruptly and listened as the man that was chasing after me stumbled to a halt nearly inches from me. is heavy breathing was tickling my ears, making my bottom lip quiver. The soft blow of warm air reminded me of all of the times where he would fall asleep holding me, his face buried into the back of my head, his lips slightly parted as a warm stream of air would pass through is teeth and blow against the top of my head.
I was shaking when I turned around to face him.
“What do you want?” I couldn’t find it in me to utter his name.
“I want you to come to the home opener tonight.”
I stayed silent.
“The guys could really use you tonight.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Memories started to flood my head of seeing the guys before the game. Most of them said my smile was enough to put them in a good mindset for puck drop. They would kiss my forehead for luck.
Claude would kiss me for good luck, and very rarely did he ever have a bad game after that.
“We miss you.”
I looked down, tears pushing against the back of my eyes.
“I miss you, Quinn.”
“Did you miss me when you fucked that girl in New York?”
“Quinn.”
“Did you?”
“I-“
“Tell the guys I said good luck.” I huffed, finally gaining the courage to look back into his eyes. “You on the other hand, can take a puck to the teeth.” I snapped and quickly turned away from him, my stomach sick and head pulsing as I headed down to the next block, trying to push the way he said my name to the back burner of my thoughts.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
I found myself sitting on the couch, a glass of honey whisky in one hand, and the other scratching the top of Harley’s head as I watched the Flyer’s home opener. I knew ninety percent of the players on the ice, and as I thought about them in the locker room or at team functions, I started to feel guilty for not stopping by before the game.
“Do you miss daddy, Har?”
Harley’s ears perked as he picked his head off of my thigh and looked at me, his ears pointed up and eyes wide. After a moment of staring at me, he turned toward the apartment door and let out a small whine. Nodding, I kissed his nose and then leaned back into the couch, my stomach knotting as I watched his number twenty-eight fly across the screen.
“Yeah, I do too.”
He let out a hearty woof and then plopped his face back on my thigh. Scratching behind his ears, I finished the last bit of liquid in my glass and stretched over to the side table and set it down on a coaster. Turning back toward the television, I watched as two bodies collided in the corner of the boards. Both falling to the ice, I watched intently as the man in the white jersey quickly popped back up and was immediately taken into a headlock by Simmonds.
Blinking hard, I watched as the camera zoomed in on the scrum, showing the orange jersey still on the ice, the number twenty-eight not moving.
I jumped up and walked over to the television, Harley following close behind me, keeping his body against my leg as he looked at the door, his ears perked. “Get the fuck up, Claude.” I whispered, his name setting fire to my already chapped lips.
The medical trainer for the team was kneeling next to Claude for a second, and then the channel cut to commercial. Running a hand through my hair, I quickly grabbed my phone and dialed Brittany’s number. Her and I would always go to games together, and she was of the only wives from the team that kept in close contact with me throughout the past months.
She answered on the first ring.
“He’s up, Quinn.”
“Is he okay?” I whispered, my heart racing as images of Claude being rolled out on a stretched flashed through my head.
“He barely made it off of the ice with Bray and the trainer. They’re probably going to take him to-“
“Concussion?”
“Go see him, Quinn.”
“You think-“
“You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t want too. "
I thanked Brittany a few times before promising to see her soon and ending the phone call. Looking down, I watched as Harley plopped down and pawed at my feet, whining in the process. Shaking my head, I walked over to the front door and quickly grabbed my bag and slipped into my moccasins. Shrugging on my forest green coat, I turned to Harley and sighed.
“I’ll be back later Har, okay?”
Huffing, Harley turned from me and walked over to the couch, his deep brown eyes focusing on the TV as it played in the background of my thoughts.
Grabbing my keys between my shaking fingers, I walked out of the front door, locked it, and then headed over to the stairs. Jogging down the ten flights, I thought about what would happen when I got to the hospital, but every possible conversation was blocked out by the thought of him being hurt.
He broke me into a thousand pieces, but every piece missed him more than I was ever willing to admit.