I can’t help but stare at the manilla envelope in the pile of mail. My name is scrawled in girlish cursive on the front. It has no sending address, and no return address meaning someone slipped it into my box after the mailman had already come. I have a bad feeling about it.

Carrying my mail up the three flights of stairs to my apartment, I think hard about what it could be. But nothing comes to mind. Just as I get to my door, my phone chirps. I open my door and put everything except the manilla envelope on my front table before searching for it.

Jon: Just got dinner. Be there in 5.
Claire: Kay. Door’s open.

I’m so glad Jon is bringing food over. It was such a long and stressful day at work. I ended up working straight through my lunch break, and haven’t had anything to eat since my apple at eight this morning.

I head into the kitchen and take a seat at the table. Sighing, I stare at the envelope for a minute before finally growing the balls to open it. As soon as I pull the thick paper out of the envelope, I feel sick to my stomach. It’s a selfie of a half-naked girl in a hotel room. Behind her on the bed Jon is sleeping shirtless, curled up like he usually is after a long night of sex. Her smirk and bright green eyes seem to be taunting me.

My own bright green eyes pool with tears. The implications are obvious. I sit there, staring at the photo in my hands and let the tears silently fall. I can’t think. I can’t move. I can barely even breathe.

Jon cheated on me.

I vaguely hear the front door open and the sound of Jon taking off his jacket and shoes in the front hall. I hear the rustle of a plastic bag, most likely from King Garden down the street. It’s the first Thursday of the month, which means it’s Chinese takeout night. He probably got me steamed dumplings and beef with snow peas. He got himself steamed vegetables and chicken with cashews. Because that’s what we do. That’s what we’ve always done in the two years we’ve been together.

“Babe?” He calls. “Where are you?”

I don’t answer. I can’t answer.

I hear his footsteps in the hallway and hear the bag rustling against his pants. I can feel his presence as soon as he steps into the doorway. I’ve always been able to feel him there. He spots me and walks over to the counter, putting the food down.

“You okay?” He asks, worry in his voice.
I still can’t answer.
“What do you have?” He asks.
Just evidence of you cheating on me.
“Claire?”

I painfully tear my eyes from the photo in my hands and stare up at him. I’m not angry. I’m not disgusted. I’m hurt. And I hope that shows in my face.

It does, and he instantly comes over to me, looking at the photo. His face goes pale and his step falters.

“Oh.”
Yeah, ‘oh.’ You’re damn fucking right, ‘oh.’
“Babe-” He starts, his voice breaking slightly.

I can’t stand being in the same room as him anymore. My appetite is completely gone. I drop the photo on the table and stand, heading for the door on the opposite side of the kitchen. He starts to follow me, but I stop him with my hand. I shake my head slightly, willing the tears to stop. I can see pain in his face, but I don’t even care. He doesn’t deserve to be in pain. He’s the one who did this.

I quickly head down the hallway and into my room, closing and locking the door. I can’t do this. I can’t handle this.

I don’t hear anything from outside the door. Jon didn’t follow me. I’m both relieved and disappointed. I really don’t want to talk to him right now. I don’t want to hear his voice or see his face. But I also want him to say something. To somehow make this all okay. I want him to fight for me.

I crawl into a ball on my bed and pull up the covers. Maybe if I cry myself to sleep, I’ll wake up and it’ll all just be a really bad dream.

I’m not sure how much later it is when I feel the bed dip next to me. I know I locked the door, so I stiffen up in my ball. I can smell reheated Chinese food, so I know it’s Jon. My stomach grumbles a little and I silently curse it.

“Claire?” He says. His voice is rough and broken, like it was after they lost in the conference finals. He’s been crying. “Please talk to me.”

Instead of responding, I roll over so my back is to him.

“Okay, I guess you don’t want to talk. And I understand. But I want to talk. I want to explain. You deserve an explanation from me.”

He sighs.

“I made a huge mistake.” He admits. “It was the circus trip, and we’d been gone for almost a week and a half. I was missing you so much, baby. We were in Denver, and a couple of the guys wanted to go to a bar. I didn’t want to go, but Kaner practically dragged me there. I wanted to be the designated driver, but everyone basically said I needed to lighten up. So they started giving me shots. I honestly don’t even know how many I did. But it accomplished what they wanted. I started dancing and really wasn’t myself at all. There was this girl. She was obviously a bunny. She- she looked so much like you. She had the same body and green eyes as you. And I wanted her to be you so bad. I wanted to be with you. But I couldn’t be with you, and I wasn’t going to be able to be with you for almost another week.”

“Baby, I’m not going to blame the alcohol, because it’s one hundred percent my fault. But I brought her back to the hotel with me. We started hooking up. But when I took off her shirt, she didn’t have your tattoo. It reminded me that she wasn’t you. And that I had you waiting at home for me. I sobered up immediately, and stopped what we were doing. I told her that I couldn’t. That I had a girlfriend that I love, and that I didn’t want to ruin what we have. She got mad at me and slapped me across the face, but I told her to get her clothes and get out. Then I rolled over and closed my eyes, not wanting to see her anymore. I thought she just grabbed her clothes and left.”

“As soon as she was gone, I broke down into tears. I felt so horrible about what I’d done. Kaner found me an hour later still crying about it. He actually suggested I tell you right away, and I considered it. But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone and then when we got back I just felt so guilty. You’re so perfect and you don’t deserve that. So I didn’t tell you about it.”

“Claire, baby. I regret every bit of what happened. I regret letting them convince me to go to the bar. I regret doing all those shots. I regret dancing with other girls. I regret ever thinking that any other girl could be a substitute for you. I regret bringing her back to my hotel room. I regret not making sure she just grabbed her stuff and left. But mostly, I regret not telling you right away.”

He pauses to take a shaky breath, and his words start to sink in. When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet I almost can’t hear him.

“Claire-Bear, I love you. I love you with everything I have and everything I am. I know we’ve only been together two years, but I would give up everything for you. I would quit hockey right now if it was between playing and being with you. You’re my life, Claire. And I’m so sorry.... Please forgive me?”

I take a deep breath and sigh. Deep down, I know he’s not lying to me. Not that I’m condoning what happened. But I know it’s not as bad as it seemed. I know he’s telling the truth.

“You’d really pick me over hockey?” I ask, still turned away from him.
“Yes.” He says without hesitation.

I turn to look at him, not surprised to see the blotchy red spots on his face proving that he was crying. His eyes are red and he looks like he’s aged twenty years since he got home. His skin is pale and his hair is disheveled.

I sit up and fidget with my hands briefly before holding them out to him. He pauses for a second before collapsing into me, a sob escaping from his lips. His nose digs into my neck and his hands grip me tight, like he’s keeping me from running away. I hug him tight to me, inhaling the smell of his shampoo.

“I love you, Jon.” I say, my voice as cracked and broken as his. “But if this ever happens again, I’m gone. No explanations. No more chances. I’m it for you. Your one and only. I don’t care if you just hook up with a girl, or if you go all out and sleep with her. One more time and we’re through.”

He nods furiously, agreeing to my terms. His lips begin leaving soft kisses on my shoulder.

“I promise, Claire-Bear. You’re the only one for me. I promise.” He says.
“Good. Now give me my food and cuddle with me.” I say.

He pulls back and gives me a small smile, reaching over to the nightstand and grabbing my plate. He leans against the headboard and I curl into his side, scarfing down the dumplings and beef with snow peas. He turns on the television and, to my surprise, flips on Castle instead of the NHL network. I eye him suspiciously before realizing he’s sucking up to me. I press a small kiss to his lips and return to my food, just in time for a new episode to start.

This may be the biggest issue Jon and I have ever had, but in the end it’s only a speed bump. It’s handled, and will never happen again. And that’s more than okay with me.

Notes

I try really hard not to do two players or scenarios in a row that are the same or similar, but this was next on my list and requested a long time ago. So sorry if you don't like Tazer. (But then again, who doesn't love some Jonny T?)

I'm seriously craving Chinese food right now. Like, real bad.
Not that you needed to know that. Sorry. Over sharing.

I'm amazed that this has over 33,000 views. Wow.
Request, comment, vote, subscribe. Or just continue to enjoy.

xoxo