A Woman's Touch

‘And this is Marc-Andre Fleury being pulled out of his second game this week… he has certainly lost his edge here tonight; as the Flyers lead 6-2 coming up to the end of the second period. It'll be interesting to see what the Penguins have to say about this’.

I took one last look up at her seat. The empty seat, before I hobbled off the ice. I saw the boys moving over by the walkway; to tell me not to worry about it, I’ll pick it up next game.
I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t care. My body felt numb, on the inside and the outside. My heart wasn’t in the game and I couldn’t make my body do what it needed to do.
I was never the best goalie in the world but I wasn’t the worse either; and now here I was, watching the pucks fly by me in slow motion - to miserable to reach out and grab them.

I use to bend over backwards to make the big saves, I use to do it to see her smile and cheer; to make her proud. She didn’t care about me anymore; ironically enough it was getting harder and harder to make myself care about myself now too.
I reached the locker room, before I even realized where I was. I slumped down on the bench and sat, unmoving, in sticky, sweaty gear.
I listened to the sounds of the arena around me; hearing nothing. Seeing nothing; until Mario pulled me back.
“Marc, we need to talk…”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He laughed at me, actually laughed; I assumed it was because I was apologising with no emotion at all… obviously not sorry.

“I don’t want your apology Marc… I want you to tell me what I need to do to help you. You’re miserable, and I’m sorry for that; but you’re not the first person to loose someone that you love…”

I nodded along with him, as his words went in one ear and out the other. I had had this conversation so many times before. Was it so hard for people to realize that this wasn’t some relationship, that I wasn’t just going to get over it…
Vero was my life, my love, my reason for being. Without her I was just a shell; an empty space that had outlived it’s purpose…

“Listen, you’re going to need to give a statement after the game so, go get changed and head up to my office.” He gave me a fatherly pat on the shoulder before he left. I sat there for another minute; before I heard the buzzer going off. I headed into the showers quickly; hoping to avoid my team during their intermission.

My plan worked. I was able to hang around the shower stalls until they went back out onto the ice. I threw on a pair of grey sweats and a pens shirt before heading up to Mario’s office.
When I reached the door it was closed, so I knocked. No answer. I let out a huff before turning around, heading for the box.

“Mr. Fleury!” I heard a lady’s voice calling me. I turned towards it to see a girl speed-walking towards me in high heels, a binder clutched in her arms. It was the same girl from the other night; the one Talbot had tried to hook me up with.

“Ummm… hey… again…”

“Aberleigh, Aberleigh Michaels.” She answered for me, saving me the embarrassment of having to ask.

“Yah, of course. We met the other night.” She nodded at me and motioned for me to follow her back the way she came.

“Yah, sorry about taking off like that, I had to get Dani home.” She explained as we rounded a corner.

“What?”

“Oh, we were suppose to go eat…” She paused, blushing slightly; a reaction I didn’t understand.

I shook the thought away and continued after her, “no worries. I had to leave too.” She gave me a smile over her shoulder before leading me through an opened door and taking a seat behind a desk.

“Alright so, we need to make a statement about… your…um.” She looked up sheepishly, giving me an apologetic smile as she searched for the words.

“The shitty way I’ve been playing, you mean?” I chuckled softly as she nodded, obviously embarrassed.

She shifted through some papers and searched on her computer for a bit before talking again. “Basically, you need to make a statement to the press. They’ve been wanting one since… the incident… and now Mario feels that after the past two games, we can’t put it off any longer.” I cringed softly as she skated around Vero, thankful that she was being tactful about it.

“What do I have to say?”

She studied me for a minute, then leaned over the desk towards me. “Marc-Andre, I know this is difficult for you, but I promise it will get easier once you make this speech. The media will back off, and you can go back to healing.” Go back to healing, it was nice that someone understood. I wasn’t sulking or being difficult; I was trying to recover from the most horrific thing I had ever gone through. She reached out and patted my hand - a comforting move - but one that I was unprepared for.
I had had no physical contact with anyone since Vero left, and the unexpected warmth from another person sent a jolt through my system.
She retracted her hand quickly and went back to typing; like nothing had happened.

I watched her as I let out a sigh. “Sor-” I had cleared my throat of emotion before I could finish, “Sorry.”
She nodded, not taking her eyes off the screen.

She printed off a sheet and crossed the room to retrieve it from the printer; handing it to me on the way back. “If there’s anything in there you’re not ok with, I can change it. Just read over it and let me know.”

I looked down at the paper that I now held in my hands.

First off, I just wanted to thank everyone for being here and for allowing me to explain my side of the story.

A few days ago my long-time girlfriend and I, ended our relationship; for reasons that I do not wish the discuss.
Obviously, this time has been very hard for me, and I thank the press and the fans for respecting my privacy.

Clearly, this event has had an impact on my game play; but I am working to correct this.
With the help of the Penguins organization and my incredible team-mates, I look forward to playing up to my normal standards again soon.

Thank you for your dedication and your continued support. We look forward to another successful year here in Pittsburgh.

I looked away from the paper and nodded at her. “That’s fine…” I said through a husky voice, feeling my face warm as my emotions raged out of control again.
I set the paper back down on the desk with shaky hands drew in some deep breaths.

Aware that I was about to cry, Aberleigh excused herself from the room and walked past me, closing the door behind me.
Once again I found myself silently thanking her for understanding what I needed; as I dropped my head into my hands, and began to cry.