Only One Chance (Only One 2)

“Thank you guys for answering my questions,” I say, trying to get away from him as fast as I can. “Good luck today,” I tell him, and my heart is beating so hard and so loud that I think I’m having a heart attack. This has to be it. I turn and walk out of the tunnel and enter a random tunnel. Putting my hands on my knees, I try to get my breathing back to normal. “I can’t do this,” I say to myself. I walk as fast as I can to the tent and hand her back the microphone. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well.” I turn toward my car, running most of the way. The faster I get away from them, the better I will feel.

Only once I get home do I breathe out a sigh of relief. I walk to the couch and turn the television on, seeing the players taking the ice. I lie down as the tears roll down my face. The camera goes from player to player, and I close my eyes when they stay on Miller. His face ready for the game.

They drop the puck, and one minute in, Nashville makes a sloppy pass that gets intercepted by Miller, who takes it and scores one-handed. He throws up his leg and yells out. While Manning and Ralph skate to him and celebrate with him. He skates to the bench as he goes down the line.

He is on fire for the whole game, and I will go on record saying that this is his best game ever. He finished it with three goals and two assists. They skate to the middle of the ice and hold up their sticks for the crowd. They skate off, and I watch them call Manning for the third star, Ralph for the second, and I smile as I look at the television, my heart aching in my chest, as Miller skates out to accept his first star. Turning off the television, I make my way back to my bed, lying down and staring at the white wall. The tears come freely now. “Tomorrow,” I say to myself. “You are not going to cry.”

I hear a soft knock and turn toward the doorway, wondering whether that’s what it was when it sounds again. I slip out of bed and wrap a sweater around myself. Another knock comes at the door, and I turn on the light and unlock the door.

I stand here now with my mouth hanging open. Miller is there with his hands holding my doorframe. He looks like he just stepped out of the shower. His suit fits him perfectly, and I see he’s not wearing the suit jacket.

“Miller,” I whisper his name, and I wonder if I’m dreaming. “What are you doing here?” I ask him.

“Did you love me?” he asks, and I look at him. “In the time we were together, did you love me?” I shake my head and see the defeated look in his eyes. “That’s all I needed to know,” he says, turning to walk away.

“You asked me if I loved you,” I say, my voice louder, and I close the sweater, feeling the cold go through my body. He stands there in front of me. The man who owns my heart, the man who I will do anything for, the man who I let go so he can have his perfect life.

“Yeah,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets, and I see his tears now.

“Well, the answer to that is no,” I tell him. “I didn’t love,” I say, putting my arms around my stomach. “I love you.”

“What?” he whispers.

“I love you, Miller. Everything about you, from the way you do the sweetest things for me to making sure I’m always okay. To just holding my hand and showing you how a woman needs to be treated. Showing me that it’s okay to open your heart,” I say, not even caring that I’m crying or that in two point three seconds, I’m going to be a blubbering mess. “I love you so much it hurts to see you. I love you so much that I let you go. I set you free so you can find that woman who has not been divorced and who is pure.”

“What the fuck?” he says out. “A woman who is pure?”

“Yeah!” I shout out. “One who hasn’t been tainted by divorce. That can be yours and yours alone!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck if you were divorced a thousand times,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “I care that you lied to me.”

“Why do you even care now?” I say, angry that we have to hash this out. Angry that he is here and instead of being swept away by him, I’m feeling more pain than I did before. “It’s been a month now. You blocked me.” I point at myself. “You moved on. Just let me be,” I say, grabbing the door for support. “In a month, I’ll be gone, and we never have to see each other again.”