I still get lost in your eyes

And it seems that I can’t live a day without you

Closing my eyes, and you chase my thoughts away

To a place where I am blinded by the light

But it’s not right.

And it hurts to want everything

And nothing at the same time

I want what’s yours

And I want what’s mine

I want you, but I’m not giving in this time.

Goodbye to you

Goodbye to everything that I knew

You were the one I loved

The one thing that I tried to hold on to.

-Michelle Branch, “Goodbye to You”

            It was a miracle that I didn’t get a ticket on the way to the hospital; I’d been going nearly 35 over the posted 45 mile per hour speed limit for much of the drive, and I had completely ignored at least four stop signs. I made the normally half-hour trip in less than 15 minutes, but fortunately, once I got to the hospital, everyone was too shaken up to notice.

            Brendan was pacing back and forth, raking his fingers through his hair. When he noticed me, his eyes lit for a moment with relief, and he pulled me into a hug, “Thank you for coming, Jiri,” he said, still grasping my shoulder though the embrace had ended. “I told most of the guys to stay home—it would probably scare the nurses if 30 hockey players appeared in the waiting room. But I wanted you to be here, so it means a lot that you came.”

            I smiled reassuringly at him, then turned to see who else was in the room. Chris Chelios was sitting with his head in his hands, right next to Lisa Yzerman. And Steve. Who was staring at me.

            Dammit, I cursed myself, wondering what kind of asshole was thinking about making out with his captain while one of his best friends was having a family crisis. I made my way over to the row of seats, trying to avoid Stevie’s eyes, and I sat next to Chelly.

            “Hey,” I said quietly, and he sat up abruptly.

            “Oh, hi Fish,” he replied absently.

            I wanted to ask if he was okay, but before I could get a word out, his eyes were on Brendan, following him across he room and back again. He was nearly as scared as the father, I mused. I’d learned quite a bit about Chelly in the past couple of weeks. He’d hidden it well for a long time, but I’d finally gotten a glimpse of what kind of man he really was. I smiled to myself, wondering how quickly he would end my life if I told an opponent that he was as soft as a baby bunny under the macho image.

            A tall man in pale green scrubs walked into the room, which fell even more silent than a moment before. He whispered something to Brendan about the babies being premature, and that surgery was necessary. He nodded in understanding, and then the doctor disappeared again, and Brendan turned to us.
            “She’s going to have a C-section. They said that I can go in now, I have to go clean up and everything,” he informed us stiffly, obviously scared. Steve stood up and hugged him, and then Chris took his place. When Brendan left the room, Steve decided he would take Chelly’s place—in the seat next to mine.

            “Thank you,” he whispered, “for today. I needed you more than you can even imagine, and you were there for me. I don’t know if I can ever prove just how important that was to me.”

            I nodded, glancing at Lisa, who was watching us intently. She caught my eye and smiled knowingly, then stood up. “Do you guys want some coffee? There has to be somewhere around here that has some.”

            “Sure, um…regular with a cream and two sugars. Thanks,” I told her, silently begging her to take me with her. She lifted an eyebrow as if she were telling me no, and I wondered if she’d developed some form of ESP. She was Lisa Yzerman; she had everything I’d ever wanted, why not the ability to read minds as well?

            As if to prove me right, she stopped Steve before he even got a word out. “I know already how you want it—caffeinated, as black as possible, with as many sugars as I can find in the building.”

            He laughed, “Exactly.”

            And then she was gone, leaving me in a room with the man of my dreams, who I was too damn scared to talk to. But Chelly was sitting across the room in a world of his own, staring into space. I had no choice but to face my fears about Steve. I glanced at him and wondered if I could fake an injury so that I could be carted off to a room all by myself. I had to get away from the look in his eyes. It was distinct, it told me everything that he was thinking—he did have feelings for me. The holding and kissing hadn’t been one-sided, as I’d feared. It wasn’t just because he was grateful that I was there for him. He’d wanted it as much as I had. But that one look left me with an entirely different problem. Now I wasn’t only fighting myself; I was going to be fighting him too.

            I swallowed hard, racking my brain for something to talk about that was safe—something that wouldn’t have me stripping him naked in a sickeningly white and sterile waiting room in a hospital while my defense partner watched and his wife could walk in at any moment. I cursed myself again, because the idea wasn’t all that unappealing to my confused libido.

            Steve broke the silence, resting his hand on my arm, and I jerked away, but looked at him, wondering why he wanted my attention. “We need to talk, Jiri. Not right now, its not the right time or place or anything, but I need to tell you a few things,” he murmured, staring me in the eyes. “Its important, though. So we need to discuss it soon. As soon as possible, I hope,” he hesitated, then touched my arm again.

            I didn’t move away this time—I couldn’t bear to. Not with him looking at me all fiery-eyed and his touch making my insides swell and shrink and twirl and spin into a chaos. I nodded slowly, using all of my energy to keep from kissing him again. I just wanted to taste him one more time, I wanted him to look at me the way he had the first time he kissed me. I wanted to go back to that night and find out what would have happened if my damn conscience hadn’t stopped me from just taking him right there on my couch.

            I was dragged guiltily out of my thoughts when Lisa re-entered the room. She gave Chris his coffee first, then brought Steve’s and mine. She sat on the other side of me and smiled that eerily informed grin again. It fell off her face quickly though, because the Brendan had come back. Smiling.

            “Everything is fine. The girls and Cathy are fine. Once the C-section was started, there were no complications. They’re in an incubator right now, but that’s normal for premature babies. They’re fine,” he explained, eyes shining with tears. “They’re perfect. Just these tiny little angels with even tinier fingers and toes and big green eyes and just a whisper of black hair on their heads. And they just stared up at me—they knew me. They saw me and knew who I was,” he giggled, wiping away tears, “God, Steve, now I know how you feel about your girls. It’s like no other feeling in the world, to see them and know that you created them.”

            I patted his shoulder, then sat back down, sniffling, and lost myself in thought. Only hours ago, I’d been heartbroken and wishing that the day would just end. But now…now Shanny was a Daddy. And his daughters were healthy, and they were going to be a wonderful little family. And despite the jealousy that danced along my spine, I felt good. I was happy for them. But I also knew that I’d been right earlier that day. I had to stop whatever had started between Steve and me. He already had that perfect family—so I had to walk away and let him have it.

            Lisa interrupted my thoughts, “Jiri, could I beg for a favor?”

            “What do you need?” I asked, and she glanced back at the three men who were hugging and laughing and oblivious to everything around them.

            “Steve has had a long day. His knee is going to protest him for a week after this. I want to stay and see Cathy when she wakes up, but I don’t want him to push it anymore than he has to. Would you drive him home?”

            I was ready to protest, but I followed her eyes. He was as happy as the rest of us, but every so often, he would grimace and grab the wall to steady himself. Then he looked at me, eyes smiling and shining, and the decision was made.

            After a lot of griping and complaining and a promise that I would bring him back the next morning, we convinced Steve that it was better if he went home. I started to turn the key in the ignition, but he grabbed my hand.

            “No one else is around, we need to talk.”

            I took a deep breath—he was right. We needed to have this discussion. Because I had to let him go. I had to look in his brown, shining, smiling eyes and tell him no. I had to end this, before it hurt anyone else. I was ready to die inside, and I wouldn’t have wished that feeling on anyone, especially Lisa and Izzy and Sophia and Maria.

            I had to ignore the fact that I’d fallen madly in love with him and say goodbye.