The next morning around noon, I sat on my trusty living room couch, hugging my knees. I had turned my television on to the city’s sports radio station, the Team 1200. They were talking about different topics, including the Senators' defensive logjam. With Sergei Gonchar and Filip Kuba expected to return to their next game on Tuesday, the panel discussed the different possibilities, and Dave’s name came up. This was normally the point where Dave would tell me to shut it off, or he'd turn it off himself. Since he was at practice, I had no discipline. As they talked of Dave being sent to the AHL, my chin slowly lowered to my knees. Before I could let a tear stream down my cheek, I finally shut it off.

My apartment was silent. Miranda was writing an exam, so I was alone with my thoughts. I tightened my grip around my knees, and peered out the window. Still green. Christmas was only a week away, where was the snow? The only thing that was left for Dave to do was see the snow in Ottawa.

My cellphone rattled violently on the coffee table. It was Dave. “Hello?”
There was only silence on the other line. “...Hello?” I waited a few more moments, and still nothing. Right as I was about to hang up, he answered. “...Leslie.” His voice was faint. Disheartened. I knew it was coming. I tensed all my muscles, my knees turning white.
“Y-yeah?”
I heard a heavy sigh on the other end. More silence. It killed me how he always took his time to deliver news that was especially important. Just say it. You got sent to the AHL. Just....say it.
“I....I got traded.”
“W....what?”
“I got...traded.” He repeated once more.

He began to speak again, but I didn’t hear it. I didn’t hear anything. All I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. All I could taste was the thickness of my tongue in my dried-up mouth. Everything was blurred. His voice in the phone sounded like it was through a tube from 100 feet away. The moment I went numb, the phone slid out of my hand and crashed to the floor. The battery cover flew off, but the screen was still lit, and he was still on the line. I simply stared at the screen, the contents blurring and un-blurring. It was a picture I had taken of him standing in front of the Parliament buildings, a serene smile on his face. Underneath, his name. Dave. A name I wasn’t sure that would be popping up on my screen anymore.

I could hear Dave calling my name through the phone. “Leslie? Hello? Leslie? Please answer me...”
My arm tumbled off the couch to lean down and pick up the phone. My phone felt heavier than a boulder as I struggled to lift it to my ear. I was shaking like a leaf, and I constricted my lungs so they'd allow me to just say one word. “Where?”
He spoke in a few sentences, but once again, I barely caught any of it. The only thing my ears heard was, “Phoenix.”

Phoenix? They might as well have shipped him off to Timbuktu; it was on the polar opposite side of the damn continent. But at the time, I couldn’t even react. All I felt was rage. I wanted to launch the phone with all the strength I could muster towards the wall, my fingers constricting the plastic. But I kept it glued to my ear, because it was my only lifeline to Dave. His voice was the only thing keeping me sane.

I registered one more thing. “I leave tomorrow morning.”
My eyes widened, and they stung. As I squeezed them shut, I hadn’t realized that my cheeks were absolutely drenched in tears. “No, no. You don’t leave tomorrow. No. NO!” I screamed into the phone like a madwoman.
“Leslie, I wish I wasn’t, but it’s done, and there’s nothing I can do. I have to speak some more with my agent, and work a few things out, but I promise, I’ll call you as soon as I’m done and I’ll be right over.”

My response was a mere whimper. I hung up and let my phone slip out of my hand and fall to the couch cushion. I slowly lowered myself to the couch, pressing my damp cheek to the cushion.

I wasn’t thinking about how I’d keep in touch with him. I wasn’t thinking about going to visit him when he went to Phoenix. I wasn’t thinking about anything, other than the fact that Dave was leaving. I thought back to the two weeks he had left on his road trip, and about the numb state I had been in. That had only been for two weeks, when he wasn’t even in my life the way that he was now. In my mind, he was gone, and never coming back.

* * *

A couple of hours later, my front door flew open, and Dave stood in the doorway. It shocked me out of my stupor, and I realized that I hadn’t moved from my spot from the couch for hours. I didn’t even remember the last few hours of my life. Had I fallen asleep? It didn’t feel like it. Dave barreled over towards me, yanking my limp body off the couch and wrapping his arms around me tightly. My sobbing started all over again, and I pressed my cheek to the shoulder of his suit jacket. I was probably spreading my mascara all over it, but that was the least of my worries.

We held each other for what was probably a long time. It felt like seconds, but it had probably been minutes. “This isn’t the end,” he finally muttered, his voice steady. He pulled back to hold my bloodshot gaze.
“What do you mean?” I asked. My mouth was thick with saliva from my tears.
“I’m not gone forever, I’ll still be here with you. It might be hard at first, but we still have the phone and the computer. I’m just a plane ride away. I’m not gone forever.”

I couldn’t hold him like I had been holding him over the phone or the computer. I couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t feel his warmth, couldn’t put my fingers in his hair. He’d be starting a new life, and as the things from his life in Ottawa would start to disappear, so would I.

“During the holidays, you can come visit me. How about that?”
I was planning on spending my week off with my family. I hadn’t seen or talked to anyone in my family since I had met Dave. It would break their heart if I spent Christmas with Dave, but I didn’t know when I’d have the chance to see him again. “I’ll think about it?”
He nodded, kissing me on the forehead, then on my nose, and his lips found mine. He kissed me hard, holding my head in both his hands. He had such a hold on me that all I could do was bring a hand to the sleeve of his suit jacket. I was already lightheaded, but I couldn’t tear myself away from him if I tried. My breath had completely escape me and he pulled back, holding his face inches from mine. Those blue eyes that I had gotten to know so well were moving across my face. “Let’s go somewhere.”
I nodded, our noses grazing. He gave me one quick kiss, then took my hand in his and led me to the door.

* * *

He drove me to his place, the place that we had just decorated and bought furniture for, and everything was already in boxes. We laid on his couch together, turned his laptop on, and watched 500 Days of Summer together. The whole time, we watched in silence. Neither of us wanted to say anything to remind ourselves of what was really happening. We simply wanted to let the movie take us away to another world; only I couldn’t be taken away. The movie was all about two people who thought they were meant to be together, but weren’t.

He was on his side, his back against the couch, and I fit into his body on the edge of the couch. His arm was around my front, and throughout the movie he stroked my side. When it ended, I turned on my back to lie on the couch and stare up at him. He was propped up on his elbow, his fingers in his light brown hair that was in slight need of a cut. His eyes were heavy as his eyes settled on me. He licked his lips, and my stomach felt buoyant. The feelings I had experienced the first day we met began rushing back. Knowing what I’d be missing, I was rediscovering the awe over how beautiful this man hovering inches over me really was. I was rediscovering how much I needed him. And has he lowered his face towards mine, we were rediscovering each other one last time.

This kiss was different than the last; it was soft, gentle. As he opened his mouth, I tried to remember the taste of his mouth, the slow movement of his tongue, and the feeling of his soft lips. I tried to remember every last detail. One of his hands was anchored flat against the couch cushion, but his other hand slowly slipped under my thin tee, up my waist and up to my bra as he continued to kiss me. My hands grazed his stubble and the nape of his neck, gently touching the edges of his smooth hair. I arched my back, breathing heavily, his fingers digging into my back. I lifted myself further and further back, his lips finding my neck and latching on to my skin. As his mouth drifted down to the cotton of my t-shirt, I sat up and peeled my shirt off. His eyes flickered as he watched me undress, and I smiled. The look in his eyes was that of a sixteen-year-old watching his first dirty movie. He was experiencing everything I was. It was like it was our first time all over again.

Despite the way we both felt, I was quickly reminded that despite being an NHL rookie, he was no rookie in the bedroom. After I had removed my top, I lay back down on my elbows, and gazed up in elation at the show. He was on his knees, straddled over my thighs, and he glided his white and brown striped t-shirt over his head so slowly and seductively that I knew he had done this many times before. I really didn’t want to know how many. The thought quickly left my head when he crashed down on top of me and trailed kisses down my collarbone. He brought his warm hands to the clasp of my bra, and when it came off, so did his pants. Then my underwear came off, and so did his infamous boxer-briefs.

Our bodies completely exposed, he took my bare butt in his hands and lifted me up, my legs wrapped around him. He slowly carried me up the stairs, our foreheads touching and eyes locked the entire climb. When we reached his bedroom, he laid me down on the bed gently, and reached into the drawer of his night table.

Dave took his time, savouring every moment, like we had all the time in the world, and not only one last evening together. It had somehow been even more intimate than the first night we’d spent together, when he’d shown up at my door panting and dripping wet. He repeated my name, and I repeated his. We tried to make it last as long as we could, as the night coming to an end meant the morning had to arrive.

He slept through the night, but I couldn’t. Instead, I watched the sun creep through his bedroom window, my hand resting on his chest the whole night. I tried to sleep, but my eyes would open every few minutes. Even if I could have slept, I wouldn’t have wanted to. I couldn’t let the night escape from me. If Dave hadn’t have had a long day ahead of him, he would have stayed awake with me. But I had to let him sleep. I had to remember not to be selfish, and to think of how Dave must have been feeling. I was only losing a boyfriend, but he was losing so much more: his new home, his new teammates and friends, his new life. He had to start all over. At that moment, I realized that no matter how tough I thought I had it, I had to help him through it. I had to help him in any way I could. I had to go see him during the holidays. I’d work something out with my family, they’d understand. All that I knew was that I had to be there for him in Phoenix. With that, as the clock struck 6 AM, my eyes finally drifted to a close.