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Published March 1, 2022


"You never give me a break about the fans, Elizabeth. This is part of my job." "Maybe if your job title is man whore." "We're not exclusive, Elizabeth. You're not my girlfriend." I almost choked at that. "You've been sleeping with other women this whole time?" I was horrified. Maybe I could hire someone to throat punch him for me since I was going to be too busy getting tested for every STD known to man. "No, but I could have been. We made no promises." I waved my hand at their clasped hands. "So we're nothing to each other? We're just casual? We're both free to sleep around? You kissed her and are currently holding her hand right in front of me. Is that OK, Rig? Because it's not OK in my eyes. With all your talk of me being patient with you because you'd never done this before, I thought we had something."
"It's hard watching them put their hands on you and seeing you kiss them." "It's not like I'm kissing them on their lips, Elizabeth. It doesn't go any farther than that. Just typical fan stuff." "It's just that...the way you act with them makes me feel like you could be here with any girl right now and it wouldn't matter to you, as long as you had a warm body beside you." "Not true," I argued, but refused to give her more. I would not give her that power. Don't let one tie you down. "What am I to you? Anything special?" she asked. "Or just one of the crowd?" "Why do we have to label this?" I demanded, panicked that she was trying to back me into a corner, feeling like a noose was tightening around my neck. "Why can't we just enjoy this for a while without worrying about anything else?"
"Am I the only one starting to have feelings?" "I'm not ready for anything committed," I told her honestly, refusing to answer the feelings question and hoping like hell she didn't run out. "You try to push me, Elizabeth, that's not gonna work out well." "Are you...are you doing this," she waved her hand between us, "with anyone else?" "No." But I was tempted, every single day, to go out and prove Elizabeth didn't have me by the balls. Walking away from the puck bunnies and their offers was difficult because it meant I was choosing Elizabeth every time I turned them down. Show her she doesn't own you, the little devil on my shoulder said. Fortunately, up to this point, I hadn't yielded to his prodding.
I was so pissed I couldn't even think straight. Rig's Twitter feed had apparently blown up last night and when I checked it this morning, it was all girls tagging pictures of themselves to Rig's account last night showing Rig and his two wingmen at a bar. They were all over him; numerous pictures included the usual Rig kissing their cheek shots and even a few where the girl was pulling up his shirt and feeling his abs. Abs I'd been kissing, that had been pressed intimately against me just hours before. #Kissin'Carson, #bestabsinnhl, #lovehiskisses, #number1fan, #Rigismine, #Rigisamanwhore OK, that last hashtag was my own invention, but it was right on target.
"Seeing girls sitting in your lap, you kissing their cheeks, them feeling up your abs – that's not fooling around? We have really different definitions of that then. That's not how you treat fans; that's how you treat cheap whores. You left my bed and went drinking with at least twenty different girls who all tagged you in their tweets and all of them show some kind of touching or kissing." "I can't help what people tweet about me." "No, but you can control what happens. You don't have to let the girls touch you and you sure as hell don't have to kiss their cheeks, let them touch your abs or sit on your lap. You can maintain a distance." "They're fans. They don't mean anything." "And I obviously don't mean anything to you either, Rig. It hurts me. You won't define what we have – you won't say we have anything but sex, and that's on me for letting you get away with that and for putting up with your sleaze brigade. But your behavior hurts me. A lot."
"So, after telling him you'd blocked his number and deleted his contact info, I asked why he needed to apologize. I swear he started to get tears in his eyes, Elizabeth. For a minute I thought I was going to have to smack him, but he pulled himself together. I asked him if he thought an apology could ever take back what he'd done, choosing his slut brigade over you and demonstrating that you were nothing to him. He looked gutted, like totally defeated. He said he needed to apologize and he'd spend the rest of his life making it up to you, but he couldn't take losing you. So I just looked at him – and remember I was still really pissed – and said, 'It's too late, motherfucker, you've already lost her.'" "Truth." We fist bumped. "After that I went into your apartment and I watched through the peephole. He stood there for about five minutes with his head hanging then he went back into his apartment...and he bellowed your name and then I heard crashing and slamming, like he was destroying the place."
Since I'd blown it with Elizabeth, the last six months of my life had been shit. That moment of self-destruction had just snowballed into the hellhole my life was now. My game was suffering, my life off the ice was spent burying the pain in booze and fights. I'd give anything to take that moment back, to rewind, to not throw away the one person who mattered to me, who got me. She'd been my peace, the woman who settled my soul and made me want to be a better man and I'd treated her like that. Her words replayed on an endless loop. "Don't, Rig, please." But I'd done it. I'd kissed the puck bunny, right in front of Elizabeth. To prove a point. And what point had I ended up proving? That I was the biggest prick to ever walk the face of the earth. The second my lips had touched the nameless blonde's, it was as if I'd been struck by a skillet to the face. Except my moment of realization had come after I'd bent my head to kiss the girl. There was no kissing if it wasn't Elizabeth. There was no one but Elizabeth. I felt nothing for this girl, no desire, no attraction, nothing. In the two seconds I'd had my lips on the blonde's, Elizabeth had taken off.
"Are you sorry?" His voice jolted me back to the present. "Not at all. You and I may have been the world's biggest mistake, but she's not. She's going to grow up knowing how much I love her and how much I wanted her." "We weren't a mistake," he glared at me. For a second I thought he was serious, but then I burst out laughing when I realized he had to be joking. "You're right. We weren't really anything. But it gave me this baby, so that's the one positive thing that happened between us." "Us, Elizabeth. It gave us this baby."
"She's sucking her thumb," the technician grinned at us. Our daughter. Our daughter. Our daughter. The refrain played on an endless loop in my head, and I stared in awe as the technician moved the wand to a different place showing her little legs pulled up and her tiny feet crossed. This tiny miracle was curled up inside Elizabeth. She was carrying a new life. Our daughter. "She's amazing." My voice was rough, husky with the realization that I was looking at my daughter for the very first time. Elizabeth beamed proudly – and squeezed my hand before she remembered and released it quickly. At that moment, I wanted to get on my knees and beg her forgiveness. To thank her for not ending the pregnancy and for loving our daughter and keeping her safe. And for doing it all on her own up to this point. Ask her to marry me.
"Just remember to keep her calm and as happy as possible when you're around. And seriously, if you upset her with a random skank, I'll kill you." I hesitated at the door, jiggling my gym bag. "Willow, there've been no other women since I met Elizabeth." She rolled her eyes at me. "Oh, so Elizabeth just imagined you kissing that blonde?" "That was the only time, and it never went beyond a two-second kiss. And I regret that like you wouldn't believe." "That was one too many! And you've also missed the important part about keeping the skanks off of you. That always hurt her and you refused to stop that behavior. Telling her it was part of your job and you had to be nice – what a crock. You can be polite to fans without letting them get handsy. You didn't have to kiss their cheeks or put your arms around them or let them run their hands all over you." "I know. I treated her terribly and I can never make that up to her. It's something I have to live with for the rest of my life."
Instead of getting mad, he bent over me, putting his hands on either side of my head. "I get it. I do. I deserve every jab you take at me, every bit of anger you throw at me. I'll take that as my due because I know I hurt you horribly and treated you like shit." His voice was low and rumbly, but it dropped even lower. "I'm so sorry for every single way I wronged you and I'll regret my actions as long as I live. But at some point, Elizabeth," he was so close our lips were barely separated, "at some point, I'm going to make you see that I've changed and I'm going to earn your forgiveness. I'm going to marry you, Elizabeth, and we're going to be a family and I'm going to enjoy giving you all of those babies you want."
"Not going out tonight?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice. "No," I said, making my voice soft, hoping to soothe away that spark of anger she just displayed. "One, I don't need to be around alcohol, and two, I have no desire to be in bars." "Quite the change." "It needed to happen. I want to be the very best husband and father I can be." "Rig –" "I don't care how long it takes, Elizabeth. We will be getting married, and we'll have lots of babies so you can be the mom you always wanted to be and have the family you always dreamed of having." "Rig." Her voice was softer as if she wanted to believe me but was scared to trust the man who had hurt her so badly.
"Rig, I don't understand." "It's simple, Elizabeth. You being worried is not acceptable to me. The fact that you think I could slip back to my old ways means my changes haven't been enough to convince you, so that means I have to work harder, do more, be better. And I realized that because I was such a fucking dick when we first met, living the hockey star life, taking you for granted, being a cocky asshole who was stupid enough to kiss another woman in front of you -- that you were always going to be suspicious of me being a hockey player and the female fans because I made you feel that way for so long. So the simple solution to help you stop worrying is to give up hockey."
"The only thing that's not right, Elizabeth, is you thinking I'd ever let another woman ruin what I'm trying to build with you. I want you in my life, today and for the next sixty or seventy years. I'm serious about marrying you, keeping you pregnant with all those babies you want and raising a bunch of nuggets together. That's what I want, more than hockey. One I can live without, one I can't." Rig leaned down and kissed me on the lips, his mouth conveying every word he had just said to me. Then he leaned back and gave a gentle tug to one of my curls. "So I choose you, Elizabeth, and I will choose you day after day. It's no contest. Making you happy, making you feel secure in my love for you is my number one goal and I'll do whatever it takes."