A better slumber

Was in your arms

Spent tangled up in you.

A sudden morning,

Crashed in the room

With an uninvited, sudden change in you

What can I say?

Where’s that girl from last night,

Who slept on that side, and looks just like you do.

You can sleep in your own bed tonight.

Sleep away a silent pain

Screaming out my name.

You can sleep in your own bed tonight,

I hope for your sake,

You don’t wake up

As broken as I am.

-The Starting Line, “A Goodnight’s Sleep”

            I dressed as quickly as I could, which wasn’t a very good idea because my hands were shaking and I couldn’t even button my shirt right. Even now, as I walked down the corridor to the door to outside, I knew that the collar button was in the hole for the one below it, and I’d missed at least one of the fasteners completely. I was a total mess, I had been since Steve walked out my front door that morning, and then, when I turned and ended up staring down into the eyes that had looked at me with such intense desire only hours before—it absolutely left me dazed.

            I’d snuck out the back door of the arena, not wanting to have to deal with the fans that were waiting for autographs. Normally, I loved talking to them, making them smile, finding out who was supporting us out there—but not today. I couldn’t handle it. I spotted Steve’s Range Rover immediately, and my entire body deflated. I sagged against the building, sliding down it until I was sitting on the ground, head between my knees, arms wrapped around my legs. I sobbed into my jeans, choking on the tears, trying to stay quiet and not draw attention to myself.

            It didn’t work.

            “Jesus, Fishy, what’s wrong?” Chelly asked, kneeling beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “What happened?”

            I shook my head but never looked up at him; I had nothing that I could say that would explain what was going on in my head. I spent the last evening with the man of my dreams, I got to kiss him, I got to touch him, I got to taste him. I even got to fall asleep with him in my arms, and then he left. He walked out, not giving me one goddamn explanation.

            Suddenly, shockingly, Chris Chelios sat down next to me and hugged me. Put both arms around my quaking body and just held me while I cried, rocking me back and forth and murmuring that everything would be okay. As soon as I was composed enough to stand up again, he ushered me over to his car, one arm around my waist, probably to keep me from crumpling on the ground again. I sat in the passenger seat of his car and he just watched me intently. Once I’d regained enough composure that I was just sniffling and breathing stiltedly, he finally said something.

            “Fishy, something is very wrong. I’m worried about you, your mind was everywhere but on the ice today, and then I walk out to find you shaking with tears. What. Is. Wrong,” he asked, emphasizing each word.

            I glanced up at him and found genuine concern in his eyes, and I couldn’t bear to hold it in any longer. I mumbled softly, just barely loud enough for him to hear: “I love Steve.”

            “You do,” he said—not a question but a statement. “I could have guessed as much. But what has you so sad?”

            “Wait,” I replied, backtracking, “you knew? About me…and…and how I feel and…about Stevie?”

            “Its funny how old age brings experience,” he teased, “honestly, I just knew. I could tell. I don’t know how exactly, but I could see it.”

            “Oh,” I paused, contemplating my next words. “Well…last night, Stevie called me, in the middle of the night. He said that he wanted to talk to someone, but that he didn’t want to bother Shanny or something. And then…” I hesitated again, trying to remember what happened before he kissed me. “Well…he was already at my house when he called. I invited him in, and made some coffee, and we talked for a while. He was really scared about his knee. And I remembered something that Lisa said a while ago. She asked me to take care of Steve. To be there for him, because she knew that eventually, this problem with his knee was going to get to him, and she didn’t think that Steve would want to turn to her. Anyways, so after a while, he started to stand up, but then his knee must have given out or something, because he jerked in pain and started to cry, and just sat there for a while.

            “And then I hugged him. I don’t know what possessed me to do it…I’ve never in my life been the type to initiate contact, but I couldn’t help it. He needed me, Chelly. He needed me to be strong for him, and I really wanted to be. So I just held him for a while. Then he looked up at me and…then he kissed me.”

            “He kissed you?”

            I nodded, then bit my lip, remembering the way his lips felt against mine, all soft skin and warm breath. “And we kept kissing for a while. We ended up with no shirts on, and like, we were…I don’t think you want exact details…but we were making out. Heavily. And then we stopped.”

            “You did? Or he did?”

            “We both did. He’d paused for a moment, and I looked up at him, and I saw Isabella’s eyes. And I remembered Lisa’s concern for her husband. And I couldn’t go on; I couldn’t let him do that to himself and his family. And he saw it. I don’t know how he saw it, but he did. Then he just laid down against me, rested his head against my chest, and fell asleep.”

            “What happened when you woke up?”

            “I woke up first, so I went to take a shower, then made a bowl of cereal for myself. That’s when he came into the room, and he called Shanny, and then he told me he had to leave. He said that he wanted to talk about…whatever went on…but that he didn’t have any answers. And then he walked out. He walked right out of my own damn front door, and didn’t give me any kind of clue about what he was thinking or feeling about the fact that he spent the night curled against me with my arms around him. He just left.”

            He shook his head, a sad smile on his lips, “No wonder you’re such a mess, Fishy.”

            I shrugged, “And then, seeing him today, when he was the last person that I expected to see—it just threw me completely off balance. It did the same thing to him, I think.”

            Chelly stared out of his window for a long moment, then turned back to me, “I can only tell you this, Fishy. Steve loves his family. He loves his wife. He loves his team. He loves his career. But, he also loves you. Whether he can admit it or not, he does. It’s so obvious, if you only look for it, and know what you’re looking at. But he’s probably as confused as you are, as far as Lisa and the girls are concerned. Give him time. He’s a good guy; he’s not going to leave you with all of these questions. And he’s not going to jump to conclusions either. He’s going to think this through from every angle, with his own feelings being the last thing considered. Don’t give up on him. Please.”

            I wiped my eyes with the back of my palm and nodded—I wasn’t going to give up on Steve.

            You can’t give up if you’re in love with someone.