by Ellen Devlin
Tom bristled. “Oh, please. Don’t play dumb. You know she’s got men everywhere. Every time we went on a road trip, she was seeing someone else.” He started pacing.
Chris looked questioningly at Paige. Her eyes were wide, and she shook her head, saying quietly to him, “There hasn’t been anyone since Jimmy.”
Tom said, “Great, who the fuck is Jimmy? That’s a new one I hadn’t heard of yet.”
Paige started feeling ill. She asked quietly, “Did you talk to Liz about this?”
“Of course I did,” he said, bitterness creeping into his voice. “She gave me the usual crap about how important her friends are in her life, how she still gets together with old boyfriends and their wives and families, and how she’s very open with her affection. And when I got up to leave, she asked me to stay just long enough to tell her feelings, and then the real crap started. When she was done, I just walked out.”
Chris’s mouth hung slightly open in shock. Paige was starting to look like she was going to cry and almost whispered, “What did she say?”
“Some bullshit about being in love and not wanting to be with anyone else.”
Chris and Paige just stared at him, momentarily at a total loss for words.
Tom went on without looking at his friends, “I mean damn, Becks, how many other guys on the team has she been with, anyway?”
Chris stood up so suddenly the chair fell over. The noise startled Tom from his irritable pacing, and he turned to look as his friend. Chris took a controlled breath, shut his eyes, and said in a quiet, dangerous voice, “Did it ever occur to you that she meant every word?”
Tom looked at him like he had lost his mind. “What? No. Of course not. It was bullshit.”
Chris’s voice rose and continued rising. “So you’re telling me that it never once occurred to you that she might have meant Every. Single. Fucking. Word?” By the end of the sentence, he was shouting, fists clenched at his sides, staring daggers at his best friend.
Tom took a step backward. “What the fuck are you talking about? No! No one talks like that!”
Chris was truly yelling now. “Liz does, you arrogant, pig-headed asshole! She is not Michelle!”
Tom stopped in shock at the name, feeling the force of it almost like a physical blow. He looked around him—Chris looked uncomfortably ready to come over the kitchen table and take a swing at him for real, and Paige…holy shit, Paige looks like she’s going to cry. What the hell is going on?
“No! No. No, that’s not possible.” He looked from Chris to Paige and back again, his face practically begging one of them to join his denial.
“God damn it, Micky, I was the one that set you up with her. Would I do that to you?” Chris was still yelling and still really pissed, but the danger of physical violence was mostly gone—the look on Tom’s face was telling him an awful lot. “She’s one of my favorite people in the world, you fucking unbelievable bastard!”
Paige glared at Tom and asked, “Micky, what did you say to her after that?”
In a rather smaller voice than earlier, Tom said, “What do you mean?”
“After that! After. After you left. After you walked out of her apartment. That was, what? More than two months ago? I know she didn’t call you. Do you know why she didn’t call, by the way? Because you’re a professional athlete, you jackass. And you were heading into the playoffs. And she didn’t want to mess with your head. Do you know the side of the story I heard?” She had barely paused to take a breath at this point.
“She told me you guys were taking a break, that you needed to focus on work. That she wasn’t sure how long it would last, or if you would get back together or not. That she missed you, and that she was sad, but that she wasn’t going to interfere in your work. You fucking prick! Did you even call her once? Did you contact her even one time before you saw her today?”
Tom sank into one of the chairs, looking at Chris. “Shit. Oh, shit.” His hands had started shaking.
Paige felt tears prick at her eyes for her friend, and with the growing realization that Liz hadn’t been called into work, she rasped out, “Micky? What did you say to her today?”
Tom looked up at her and shook his head.
“What. Did. You. Say.”
He croaked as he admitted, “I asked her which of the new trades she had picked out for next season.”
“Jesus Christ, Mick,” Chris said, and Paige slapped Tom so hard even Chris winced. She stormed out of the room and out the front door. They heard her car, and Chris knew she was on her way to Liz’s apartment and wouldn’t be back for hours.
He turned to look at Tom, sitting crumpled at his kitchen table, looking utterly defeated. His face was completely stricken, ashen except for the red palm print left by Paige.
“God damn it, Micky.” Chris’s voice was rough with emotion. “You can be an ass, but I have never, ever seen you be cruel before. Ever. Not even to Michelle, and she fucking deserved it.” His voice got a little quieter, almost like he was talking to himself. “Jesus, I never would have suggested you guys get together in the first place.”
Tom looked completely devastated, and Chris knew this was totally out of character for his best friend, this man who was as close to him as a brother. “I had no idea you were still this fucked up over Michelle. Why didn’t you say something?”
“I don’t know. I thought…I don’t know. Shit. Shit.” He felt sick.
Chris stood leaning against the kitchen counter, watching the emotions play across Tom’s face. He was clearly trying to unravel some of the mess in his head, and Chris wasn’t sure what to do.
Events of the last weeks before the breakup were playing through Tom’s brain, but the worst part was the memory of the last words Liz said to him before he had turned and walked out on her. He remembered exactly what she had said—every word, every turn of phrase, the sound her voice, everything.
Not the generalized line he had fed to Chris and Paige when they had asked.
But up until now, each time he’d thought of it, he had used it as proof of just how absurdly low she was willing to stoop to hurt him. Now the words were playing on a loop in his head. He gripped the edge of the table for about thirty seconds before standing up and walking down the hallway to the bathroom.
The undeniable sound of retching was startling and unexpected. Chris almost walked down the hall to ask if Tom was all right but thought better of it. He was obviously not all right. After a few minutes, Chris got a glass of ice water, a few aspirin, and a cold Coke, put them on the table where Tom had been sitting, and returned to his spot leaning against the counter.
Tom emerged about five minutes later, looking pale and tired. He sat down at the table without speaking, took the aspirin, drank most of the water, and held the cold can of soda against his forehead.
“I don’t get it, Micky. I know you’ve dated other women since Michelle. What the hell went so wrong here?”
“I don’t know.” He looked exhausted.
“Did any of those relationships get serious at all?”
“No.” Tom opened the Coke and started drinking, hoping the sugar and caffeine would help him start to feel human again, holding the cold can to his head between drinks.
“Did you love any of them?”
Tom visibly stiffened, feeling ill again.
Chris was startled by his reaction. “Oh shit, Micky. That’s it.” The look on Tom’s face was the most confused mix of raw emotions he had ever seen. “Jesus, you didn’t even know, did you?”
Tom gave up and walked back down the hallway.
By the time he returned a few minutes later, Chris had refilled his glass of ice water. Tom sat and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on his arms. With his eyes closed, he asked, “Is this fucked up beyond repair?”
Chris looked at him, thinking, weighing the options. “I don’t know, Micky, but it’s worth trying.” He sighed. “You managed to be an utter dick to one of the nicest people I have ever met. You are
lucky I love you, my brother.” He sat down next to Tom, put his hand on Tom’s shoulder, and leaned in closer. “And here’s the really bad news—the only way this has a chance is if Paige agrees to help.”
Tom didn’t even raise his head. “Fuck.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Liz heard the key unlocking her apartment and knew Paige was coming to see her. She was the only person who had a key since Tom had returned his. And the only reason she would be letting herself in was if she knew what had happened. Liz didn’t get off the couch or even bother looking around.
Paige hugged her, and Liz cried, letting the dam break on how badly Tom’s comments had hurt her. “I’m so sorry, Liz. I can’t believe he did that. That’s not the Micky I know. I swear.”
“I know. I think that’s what freaked me out. It felt like it was someone I had never met.” Her face screwed up a bit as she tried to keep from crying more. “And I had really hoped we could be friends again. I feel so stupid, Paige.”
“No. No, something is wrong with him, I swear it. Not that I think that’s any excuse for treating you that way, but you had every reason to think he would act like a human and not like a total asshole. There’s no reason for you to feel stupid, Liz. You didn’t do anything wrong.” With a wry smile, she added, “If it makes you feel any better, I slapped him. Really hard. Like, my hand is still burning from it.”
Liz looked at her for a few moments, and then the corner of her mouth turned up a little. “Yeah, that does make me feel a little better. It shouldn’t, but it does.”
Paige got up and made them both some coffee, and Liz got up to splash cold water on her face. When she came back, she simply said, “I had forgotten how much this shit hurts.” After thinking for a moment, she added, “Although, to be fair, I’ve never had someone I dated be vicious before. Much less someone I loved.” Tears were threatening again. “Shit.” She turned to Paige and said, “I seriously don’t even understand.”
“I am so angry.” Paige had tears pricking her eyes. “That doesn’t even cover it. Furious. Outraged. Wrathful.” Liz smiled at her English teacher friend. “I don’t even think I can look at him again.”
“Paige.” Liz hugged her friend. “Thank you, but you know that’s not the right answer, either.”
“Don’t.” Paige was trying not to cry. “Don’t make it seem like I’m being unreasonable. My best friend was just treated like shit by my husband’s best friend, who is also someone I thought was my friend.” Liz just looked at her. “God damn it. Stop looking at me like that.”
“Please, Paige, don’t make me be the one to argue on his behalf. Not today. I’m not up for it.” Liz sighed. “You know how I feel about this kind of thing.”
“Why can’t you just be normal and demand people choose sides?” Paige realized she sounded ridiculous even as she was saying it and laughed darkly. “You’re a pain in the ass. You know that?”
“I do.” Liz smiled at her friend. “Thank you. I love you.” She hugged Paige tightly. “Let’s drink coffee and talk about anything except idiot assholes, okay?”
Paige sighed. “Okay.” They sat back down on the couch. “So when are we going dancing again?”
***
“You didn’t see his face, Paige.”
“I didn’t want to see it. I still don’t. Maybe not ever again.” Paige was trying not to raise her voice at her husband. “I have never been so…so…furious.” Her voice caught as she added, “And devastated.”
Chris took her in his arms. “I know, baby. Me too.”
“It’s just not fair, Chris.” She had tears in her eyes. “I know you love him, but I wouldn’t have even met you without Liz. So, if there’s a choice that has to be made here, in my book she wins. Especially after the way he treated her.”
The look he gave her was stunned. “No, Paige.” He took her by the shoulders and made her look him in the eyes. “No. I am not giving up on my best friend because of this. I’m telling you, you didn’t see his face. He knows.” Her brow was furrowed, so he added, “Besides, you know perfectly well Liz would be pissed off if you made me give up my best friend because of her. Or even if you and Micky stopped being friends because of something that happened between the two of them. You know that’s the way she thinks, crazy as that is.”
Paige softened. “She’s wrong about that. I can disown anyone I want.”
“He wants to talk to you.”
“Yeah, well, I want him to…to…I don’t even know. I’m still so angry.”
Chris held her again. “Will you just talk to him? Please, baby?”
She made a non-committal noise against his shirt.
He started to pet her hair. “He was such a mess after you left here. I have never seen him like that. When he realized what he had done…” He paused and looked at Paige again. “He didn’t know, Paige. I saw it on his face as he figured out he was in love with her.”
“I don’t care.”
“You do.”
“I don’t want to!” She practically yelled it. “I don’t want to feel bad for him, Chris! I just found out how badly he hurt Liz. I don’t want to have any sympathy for him! How do I know he’s even sincere? The Micky I know would never have done that!”
Chris smiled. “Yeah, I told him the same thing. And then I saw the Micky I know—when he realized, it made him sick. Literally sick. That kind of regret is hard to fake.”
Paige looked at him. “Really?”
“Really. Multiple times.”
Paige closed her eyes. “God damn it.” Chris smiled and hugged her close.
“Thank you, baby.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“But you’ll talk to him.”
“Shit.”
***
Tom approached their house with something akin to fear. Paige was more than a foot shorter than him, but he was afraid to face her wrath in this. It’s difficult to feel confident when he knew he was completely in the wrong.
His devastation must have shown in his face, because Paige’s resolve to stay furious at him wavered, and she allowed him to pull her into a crushing hug. “I’m so sorry, Paige. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. I’m not the one who’s been crying over this. I’m not the one you treated like shit.”
He winced as if she had slapped him again, and she was fine with that. It was taking a lot of willpower to resist the urge to say incredibly hurtful things to him. Part of her wanted to be absolutely vicious, to see if she could find the words that would make him look just as shattered as Liz had.
But that wouldn’t help, and she knew it. And Liz wouldn’t want her to, and she knew that too, damn it.
“I know.” He put her down. “I want to apologize. God, I want to erase this and start over.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “But I think a chance at an apology is probably the best I can hope for. I don’t think I’ll even get that chance without your help, though. Please.”
“Sit down. I’m listening.” She pointed at him. “I’m not promising anything. But I’m listening.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
It had taken a while, but Paige had convinced Liz that getting out to a party would be good for her. It would be a small crowd, rooftop, music, bar, some dancing. Nothing formal, wear jeans and a cute shirt. It was some friends Paige knew from school, so not a team event, which would make things easier. No chance of running into Tom or having to answer questions from teammates about whether or not they were still an item.
She took a cab to the hotel, figuring she would be drinking enough not to want to drive, and texted Paige when she arrived. Paige responded that they were already on the roof, and she should come up in the elevator.
Liz got off the elevator at the rooftop, a little surprised that she didn’t hear music or other party noise. When the doors opened, there was a podium in front of her, with a handwritten note, large enough to read from a distance. She recognized the h
andwriting immediately as belonging to Paige.
Liz, I’m so sorry for the set-up.
Please just give him a chance and listen.
You know I love you like crazy.
—Paige
The bottom of her stomach suddenly dropped out, and there was a slight roar in her ears. She turned to her left and saw the rooftop lounge area, the bar empty. One table had a white table cloth and an ice bucket with what appeared to be several beers. Standing next to the table, dressed in his full tuxedo, was Tom. She turned back toward the elevator.
“Liz, please, just listen. You don’t have to say anything.” She stopped, and he continued. “Please. Just give me a little while. If you want to leave after that, I won’t try to stop you.”
He saw her shoulders sink as he reflected her words back to her.
She turned toward him. “I will stay and listen. Because I trust Paige—not you.”
They sat down at the table, and he began.
“I was engaged. I had known her in high school, and we started dating my sophomore year of college. I asked her to marry me as soon as I graduated. We got a place together when I started playing in the AHL.
“I can be a jealous guy.” He chanced a look at Liz across the table. “I don’t know if you had noticed that at all.”
Liz was sitting still and quiet. She was listening, but her face was neutral, registering as close to a blank as he had ever seen from her. At this comment she allowed a small flicker through.
She’s definitely listening. “Michelle was a beautiful girl and drew a lot of attention and comments wherever she went. She loved the attention. I would get insecure and jealous. She would tell me I was being ridiculous. Nothing uncommon.
“One night after one of these arguments—‘I think you’re cheating,’ ‘You’re imagining things,’—she put her arms around me, looked up, and said, ‘Tommy, I had a huge crush on you even back in high school. You know I love you. I don’t ever want to sleep with another man.’”
