The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 15: Leaving

~Ben~

~July~

We are standing in the middle of Eleanor's kitchen. It's our first day back from her book tour and it's my first official day living here. I just finished unpacking the few boxes of clothes I had brought with me in Germany. I walked in the kitchen to grab something to drink. She's reading what looks like a card and doesn't move nor speak when she sees me. I am still unsure of how I should act around Eleanor. I don't know if I should be friendly or if I should be the way I was when we lived together in Windsor. I decide to pretend I know my way around and head directly for the fridge. I spot a can of lemonade in the back but stop moving when I hear her voice.

"Maid of honor, can you imagine? Jo wants me as her maid of honor for the wedding," she says, shaking her head and throwing the mint green card on the table. I end up grabbing the water filter instead of the lemonade when I remember that I am supposed to be on a low-sugar diet before closing the fridge.

"And that's bad thing?" I cautiously ask as I open every cupboard looking for a glass.

"Yeah, it's the worst thing. Now, I'll have to spend countless hours with her awful sister, mother, and friends trying on ugly dresses that I'll be the only one looking fat in." Normally, I would have told her that nothing makes her look fat. It wouldn't have been to be nice or to make her feel better, it would have been the truth. But this is not a normal situation, so I just tell her that she doesn't have to do it if she doesn't want to.

"And she'll hate me forever, no way. And she helped me so much when she gave me her sister's old baby clothes. I have to do it," she sighs. In that moment, I am really glad I don't have to go to that wedding. Spending too many hours with people who'll ask countless questions about Eleanor and I's relationship would have been too much to handle.

"Sorry," I simply say, raising my shoulders. I still haven't found the glasses, and I am about to give up and ask when I hear her take a sharp intake of breath.

"What are you doing August seventh?" she asks, excited. My eyes go wide, and my mouth becomes dry.

"Not... nothing," I end up answering.

"You have to come with me!" I repeatedly shake my head, thinking about how glad I am to have not found the glasses because I would have certainly dropped it on the ground.

"You have to, Ben. For Ophelia. Think about how busy I'll be with the appointments; I won't have enough time to properly take care of her. And during the ceremony, someone will have to watch her since I'll be up there, pretending I give a damn," she pleads, her hands joined together. I know she's playing me. She can ask her father to babysit and any of her many family member can watch Ophelia during the ceremony. I don't know what pushes me to agree. Maybe it's the fact that she wants to spend time with me or the thought that she prefers that I take care of Ophelia instead of one of her aunts or cousins. I stand there, nodding my head and she keeps thanking me profusely.

~August~

She's the one who wanted me to come to this wedding. She practically begged me to come to Victoria to take care of Ophelia and now she tells me I am unable to do so.

"It's true, I mean you never had to," she adds, raising her shoulders as if what she was saying was obvious.

"Why am I here then, huh?" I can't help but raise my voice.

"To take care of her during the wedding, I thought it was clear." Her voice, however, is still as calm as before like she couldn't care less about me.

"I'm leaving," I announce. She raises her head from the pile of clothes still on her bed, a surprised look on her face. "I'll go stay at my parents and try and change my flight as soon as possible. I can't do this with you anymore, Eleanor. It's killing me," I finish. I didn't know I was going to say this before the words left my mouth. I'm glad I said it, though. She acts as if what I did gives her the right to toss me around when she wants, but I won't do it anymore. I won't beg for the forgiveness I'll probably never have anymore. I am walking down the stairs when I hear her voice again.

"That's it, Ben. Do what you do best, leave," she shouts. I feel something hit the back of my head. I turn around to see what it was. I pick the black pair of leggings up from the floor.

"Did you just throw leggings at me?" I can't help the smile on my face. We are staring at each other at opposite ends of the staircase. She's on top and I'm at the bottom, and the irony isn't lost on me. During our entire relationship, it was the other way around. In her mind, I had all the power. My career dictated our future and she had to go with that. Now, she holds all the power. She's the one who determines when and if I see my daughter, the relationship we have, etc. Neither are healthy. To be in a relationship should mean sharing an equal distribution of power. That's what being a team is. Before we can form an us again, we have to find our balance of power.

"Yes, because you're being a coward and an asshole." She's smiling too. She's smiling but her tone is harsh. She spits her words in my face as if the only thing she was trying to do is hurt me. "You deserve far worse than a pair of leggings behind your head just for even implying leaving again. Consider yourself lucky I had leggings and not a hammer in my hand when you said that."

"I hate what we became," I answer, every trace of a smile gone from both our faces. "I hate that we are these people who can't seem to have a conversation without it ending in one of us saying horrible things. I hate having to think about what I'm about to say before I even say it because I'm afraid that you'll throw me away if I say the wrong thing. I hate this feeling in my chest that's telling me I don't know who you are anymore. And I hate that it's been this way for far longer than we've been apart." I am out of breath when I finally stop talking. I tear my eyes away from her to turn around and sit on the last stair. I grab my head in my hands and rub my eyes with the heel of my palm.

"I hate it too, but, please, don't leave." Her voice is closer than before, but it's only when I feel her hand on my shoulder that I know she's sitting next to me.

I don't know how long we stayed in that position me with my head in my hands and her with her hand on my shoulder. We stayed there long enough for me to decide to stay. We stayed there until her parents came back from their appointment. We didn't say a word, but we didn't need to. And it felt good. I slept in my childhood bed that night, and every other night after that. We spent our days together but our nights apart, and it was ok. We didn't talk about our argument again, but I guess that's typical of us. But the next two days will be difficult. The rehearsal dinner and the wedding itself will drown every ounce of energy, leaving us the way we were the day we screamed at each other in the stairs, vulnerable and tired which is, in my opinion, the worst combination of emotions.