One Simple Message

Rating: PG-13

Original Date of Completion: July 2002

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is fake, so don't sue me.

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"We've got news out of New York today. The New York Rangers have resigned goalie Mike Richter to a two-year, eight million dollar contract,

It's scary how just a few simple words can cause me to have a breakdown. He resigned. With them. And that made it official. We were over. A four year love ended in an instant, thanks to that asshole Sather.

It was bad enough when I found out they wouldn't be resigning me. After all I'd done for them over the years, they just drop me like Mariah Carey from a record label. But then they say they weren't going to give Mike a serious offer. He was devastated. He'd done more for them than anyone. Without him in net, they never would've won a Stanley Cup. The streak would be going on 62 years without him. And they were going to show no loyalty at all, and pass him over for CuJo. The day that happened was the first time ever I'd heard Mike say "I don't think I want to play any more." That ripped my heart out and kicked it against the wall. And for a time, I thought about quitting too, just so I could be with him. I didn't need hockey if I had Mike. He was all that mattered.

Then he resigned. A part of me understands. If they came to me today and asked me to come back, I'm sure I would. I'd even take the pay cut, just like Mike did. But now, he'd be my driving force for doing it. If he hadn't resigned, I think I would've laughed in their faces. Without him, I had no use for New York. But Mike, he loved it. He loved the city, the team, the fans, everything about it. He'd been there his entire career. It killed him when they didn't want him anymore. But when they did, I imagine his soul was healed. I don't know if I'll ever find out, because I don't think I have the strength to talk to him about it.

Especially not after the message he left me. His voice was so full of emotion, but it sounded so hollow. Mike had never spoken to me like that before. Anytime he spoke, his voice was so sweet, so eloquent, just so beautiful. But this message, it didn't sound like him at all. When I heard it, my reaction surprised me. I cried. I can't remember the last time I cried. I don't think it had happened at all in my adulthood. And it had certainly never happened because of Mike. As I listened to the message, over and over, I was reminded of everything he'd said since I'd been told they didn’t want me.

"It doesn't matter Theo...."

"Someone will want you...."

"You'll probably be the first free agent signed...."

"And even if no one signs you, it wouldn't matter, because we'll still be together. We'll get that house out in the country, just like we always wanted. We'll get a dog, and the stupid white fence, and we'll live the life we always talked about...."

"I promise."

He'd promised. He'd promised me the life I dreamed about when I thought my life was over. And after they didn't want him, he promised me again that it would happen. It was difficult to even get out of bed. The phone wasn't ringing. I hadn't heard from my agent in weeks. But the second I thought about that, about having my perfect life with Mike by my side, nothing else mattered anymore. And he felt the same way. Our last night together, he took me in his arms and we talked seriously about walking away. About giving up hockey, regardless if anyone wanted us, and having that life we wanted. We'd made love that night with the most passion, and love I've ever felt in my life. Even afterward, when he left for his own house, to get sleep for a meeting the next morning, a meeting he assured me would be to tell his agent he was quitting, I was completely at peace. All my cares were drained away. Nothing mattered, because I had Mike. Then I woke up the next morning, and the radio snapped my heart in two.

"We've got news out of New York today. The New York Rangers have resigned goalie Mike Richter to a two-year, eight million dollar contract,"

I stared at the radio in disbelief. I begged, pleaded with the box to tell me it was lying. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that Mike would promise me all these things, and have them all be lies. I turned the radio off, and turned on the TV, in hopes it would grant my wish. But it only increased my pain. "Rangers resign G Richter to two-year contract." I watched the message scroll across the screen, my pain increasing each time. He'd resigned. But more importantly, he'd lied. Mike had lied to me.

I left the TV on and slowly padded into my living room. I glanced at the answering machine, the large number 1 glaring ominously at me. At first, I couldn't bring myself to play the message. Each time my finger neared the button, my fist would clench away. I finally forced myself to play it, and I instantly wished I hadn't done it. His message crushed me. Forever, no matter what may happen, that one message would be implanted in my brain. One simple message ruined my life. Because that one simple message ruined a love that I thought was perfect.

"Theo. I'm sorry,"

End

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