Where My Love Went - A Novella

Chapter Two : Sin Bin

Will

I throw my gloves on the ice as my opponent skates towards me, fists up. "I've been waiting for this for a long time, Willy."

"Funny. You never cross my mind." I grin just as he takes a swing at me.

"Come on. Don't dance around with me. Fight me. Or are you all talk?"

I shrug. "Take a swing and find out."

His fist comes toward my face again, but I dodge it. Grabbing ahold of his sweater collar, I take my first swing. Seconds later, he hits the ice and the refs step in, pulling me off of him.

"Alright, big boy. Let's go." The linemen lead me to the penalty box.

I spit on the ice. "Shoulda let me get another hit in, then you wouldn't have had to deal with him the rest of the game."

He stops in his place and points to the locker room. "Get off my ice."

I glare. "I didn't realize you were the official–"

"Son, if you want to–"

I shrug him off. "Don't call me that." The crowd boos as I make my way towards the bench.

"Colorado, number sixteen, two-minute minor for instigating, five-minute major for fighting, and a ten-minute game misconduct." I make eye contact with a blonde girl in the suite above; the girl with brown eyes, shaking her head at me. The girl I'll go home to tonight who's as disappointed in me as I am.

She'll say something like, "Why are you like this, Will?" and I'll just shrug. She'll sigh and look away from me as she asks the question that always hurts: "Why can't you move on?". I'll look up to see tears in her eyes and before I can answer her question, she'll ask, "Why do you get like this around this time of year? You're the sweetest guy I know, then April comes and you're a completely different guy. It's been years, Will. She's gone, you've gotta move on", and nothing will ever hurt as bad as hearing someone say that she's gone. We'll fight and then we'll kiss and make up and pretend it never happened until the next game when I take my anger out on someone else.

This year is worse than the others. This year is the ten-year anniversary of the Josephine's disappearance. People are constantly telling me to move on, that I've grieved her enough. But it's hard to grieve someone who just up and disappeared without a trace, someone whose body they never found, someone who isn't dead. She can't be.

Later that night, after we've lost and I've gone through a press conference answering stupid questions, I arrive home. Laura is sitting at the kitchen island with a half-full wine glass in her hand. I hang my coat on the rack by the door and kick my shoes off before walking into the kitchen.

"Hi," I say softly, kissing her cheek.

"Hey." She whispers as I open the fridge across from her. I pull out the leftover pizza from last night and flip the lid of the box open.

"Alright, let's get this over with."

She scoffs. "Really? Let's get this over with?" She stands. "Were you planning on coming home and fighting?"

I place my palms on the counter. "I don't want to, Laur, but we both know it's going to happen."

"Well, when you come in and say shit like that of course it's gonna happen." She sets the glass on the countertop. "If you expect to get into a fight, then you're basically starting one."

"Oh, so you mean you were just sitting here waiting for me to come home so you could tell me how much you love me and how proud you are of me?"

"I–"

"Don't answer that." I grip the roots of my hair. "I saw your face after I got thrown out, Laura. I'm not stupid. You weren't exactly excited."

She groans. "Well, who would be excited about their boyfriend getting into a damn fight? Again!"

"It's hockey, Laura."

"No, it's her, Will." She steps toward me. "And you know it is too."

"This is a hard–"

I'm interrupted. "Time of year. Yeah, I get that, William. But it's been ten years, you should be able to live your life normally by now. It's okay to think about her, and it's okay to be sad, but it's not okay to beat a guy to a pulp over it." I blink and Laura is in front of me, placing her palms on my cheeks. "Look at us, Will. This isn't healthy. Fighting because of a girl that's not even here." My jaw clenches. "I've tried to sugarcoat all things related to Josephine, really I have, but it's affecting our relationship. I can't keep doing this." Tears roll down her cheeks. "I know you loved her, and I never want to take away from that, but when are you going to love me?"

My brows furrow. "I do love–"

"Then show me." I grab hold of her wrists. "And I don't mean with sex, Will, I mean me."

I lean forward and kiss her forehead, whispering an apology against her skin.

She's right, as much as I hate to admit it. This relationship isn't the healthiest and that's because of me. Because I can't accept the truth: Josephine is gone.

It's time to move on.

***

"I wish you'd stop." Laura runs her fingertips over my cracked knuckles. "It's not good for your hands."

I glance up at her and her furrowed brows. "Don't make that face."

"What face?"

"That one you make when you're worried about me," I state. "I'm okay, Laur. It's part of hockey."

She sighs and lays her head on my chest. "If that's what you need to keep telling yourself." Her nails trace my forearm. "What do you wanna watch?"

I shrug. "You pick." Rolling over so I'm on top of Laura, I kiss her jaw. "Tonight's all about you."

She giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Is it now?"

"Yup," I mumble against her skin as I make my way down her stomach. "Think you can give me a second?"

She bites down on her lip. "A second orgasm?" I nod, my face right between her legs. "Mhm."

Afterward, we lay in bed watching Love Island–her pick, not mine–while I traced the tattoo on her ribcage with my finger, over and over. "I do love you, you know that right?"

Laura looks up at me and smiles softly. "Yeah, I know."