Note: This takes place after the two previous stories. I recommend you go read those first, so you're not completely disoriented.

Good Friend

I’ve been morose. I know I should be glad; I have everything a man could want. I have a beautiful wife who supports me completely and doesn’t care that I have a boyfriend on the side. I have two children who love me unconditionally. I have a grand house and I’m at home. I have a Stanley Cup. I have a pile of trophies. And I have a boyfriend.

I think. Patrick’s been calling and calling lately. He says he’s excited, he has a surprise for me. But I can read the tone in his voice and I’m worried. Maybe I shouldn’t be. Maybe I should be excited, too. But I can’t, because somehow, something inside me has strangled the excitement and I don’t know what to expect.

I wish he would hurry up and tell me what it is. I can’t stand sitting here, not being able to put my thoughts into words, shuddering every time anyone says ‘break’. Because I can’t think of what I would do if he broke up with me. I can’t stand to think of what I would do. I don’t know. I don’t want to say goodbye forever and I don’t think that I could.

Why do I think this? I don’t rightly know…maybe it’s the fact that we live on other sides of the world now. That he still has a lucrative job, he’s still working, and he won’t have time for me. I’ll become a burden off to the side, and he wants to get rid of me before it gets too heavy. Maybe it’s that he thinks I won’t have the time. Maybe he thinks I’m sick of it.

I don’t know how he could think that. My mind races back to the beginning of our history…

It was a long time ago. I was in Buffalo the year before I was traded, and the Avalanche came to Buffalo to play. Late 2000…that was it. It must have been November or December, but I remember leaving the arena and driving to one of the bars with some teammates. I’d called Alena to let her know I wouldn’t be back anytime soon, and proceeded to drown my sorrows in a corner of the bar.

Everything hurt. I’d only recently found I was attracted to men and I was struggling with it, an old man still discovering himself. It’d been on my mind, partially a reason for my slump. That and our loss to the Avs that night was more than I could really handle, and I drank myself silly. But I recalled a few things.

When a group of the Avs walked in, and there were hollers and whistles and some boos. It had quieted down after a few moments, and no one noticed when Patty slid down to the end of the bar and found me.

“What are you doing here, old man?” he’d snorted. Enraged, I’d almost thrown my glass at him before he noticed and grabbed my arm. “Just kidding! I didn’t mean to hurt you, for God’s sake,” he said.

“Doesn’t matter,” I croaked. Through my alcohol-addled haze, I’d seen the concern in his face. He slapped down some cash on the counter and dragged me out the back way.

“What’s the matter with you? You look like a homeless guy, slugging down the booze like that. What’s your problem?” he asked. I shuddered a few times more.

“I’m a gay slumping goalie on a crap team and everyone hates me,” I rattled off, an extraordinary feat for someone as drunk as I was.

“Ohhh…” he sucked in a long breath. “Not everyone hates you. I hate you, but I have to,” he winked. “No, actually I admire you. You have no idea how good you are.”

That had startled me. Naturally. This man, this man I hardly knew, this man with Cups and trophies and recognition, this man was telling me he liked and admired me. You talk about your shockers.

“Huh,” I garbled. I think I said a few other things, the memories of which have since departed, but Patty shoveled me into a cab and sent me home.

A few days later he called me and I thanked him, being in possession of my senses. The next time I was in Denver, we went out to dinner. Phone calls. Dates. The All-Star game. Everything flowed along well and by March 18, 2001, we were sleeping together. I remember that date because that’s when he said he loved me, and that’s the day my life was complete.

I told him everything. I told him how I hated Buffalo, and I told him how I was scared I would never win anything, and I told him how much I wanted to be traded. I told him all about the contract negotiations and I congratulated him when he won the Cup. I was never so proud. I told him first that I was going to Detroit.

“I have to hate you now, you know,” I laughed. Everything was going fine. Everything was going splendidly.

And now he wants to end it. I think. God, I hope not. I wouldn’t be able to live without him, I have no idea what I’d do. I didn’t want to think about it.

So when the doorbell rang, I was surprised. And confused. I wondered who would be at my door? We didn’t have that many friendly neighbors, and I wasn’t expecting any packages.

And it was Patty. I opened the door and my stomach did a magnificent leap into my throat. It could compete at the Olympics with those kinds of skills.

“Hello?” I squeaked. He dropped his bag in the doorway and gathered me all up in his arms; managing to do that and shut the door, all in one smooth motion.

“I missed you, Dommity!” he cried, then shut himself up. “Is anyone home?” he asked, looking around. I shook my head.

“Alena’s spending the day at one of her friends, and the kids are sleeping over somewhere. I’ve got the house all to myself until around ten, since Ally’s going to dinner,” I said slowly. It was only noon. What if he said something that made me not want to be around him for ten more hours? I couldn’t imagine wanting to be away from him, but I almost did then.

“Good,” he grinned. He kissed me once, apparently not noticing my dazed state. I shuffled into the kitchen, offering him something to drink.

“No thanks, Domloops.” He grew serious. “There’s something I have to tell you.” Oh God. Oh no. This was it. This was the end of life as I knew it. I took a deep breath.

“Look Patty I know I’ve been listening to your phone calls and I know you want to break up with me I’m sorry all I want to know is why please don’t leave me,” I choked. Tears had flooded my eyes and everything had gone blurry.

“Wha-a-t?” Patty sounded confused and I looked up, praying that the tears wouldn’t drop out of my eyes. “What are you talking about? Dominik, are you suggesting I’m going to break up with you?”

I nodded slowly.

“Of course not!” he exclaimed, leaning forward. “Dom, I could never leave you. Never,” he whispered in my ear. “I don’t know what persuaded me to sleep with Jose, but you must know that I love you. You are my everything, love.”

Suddenly I was crying on his shoulder, ecstatic and grateful, listening to him speak softly in my ear.

“I owe it all to you…every good thing that I do is you.”