#where do i find someone to look at me the way the tkachuks look at each other

[mommahughes19-23]

the way brady and matthew support and admire each other where can i find someone to love me like that.

[brainddeadd]

can you write about Matthew tkachuk and reader where reader doesn’t know him but she goes to him because an old man was being creepy with her so she goes to the first persone she sees asking for help

The man just won't take a hint.

You arrived at the bar with friends a few hours ago and had long since lost them to dancing and people who caught their attention. Deciding you needed a break from dancing, you made your way over to the bar, which is how you ended up in this situation. Stuck next to an older man, who's far too drunk for the 9pm time and who definitely hasn't brushed his teeth this week.

At first, he was just making the usual comments: you look hot, you look lonely, you looked good dancing.

Then came the crowding you into the bar, his body blocking off your exits. He continued to creep closer and closer, but the final straw was his hand finding its way to your thigh, gripping tight enough that it was slightly painful.

Scouring the bar for one of your friends, anyone, your eyes settle onto a tall man, with wild curly hair and kind eyes. He raises an eyebrow in question, head tilting as if to ask if you're ok. Subtly shaking your head, the man's up and moving towards you before you can blink. Attempting to pry the creep's hand from your leg, he's knocked slightly off balance as you suddenly jump up. This allows you time to move towards the man with the curly hair, who meets you in the middle, his arms winding around your waist gently, a glare being sent towards the creep.

"You ok?" His voice is quiet, but there's an edge to it you didn't expect, and you find yourself being honest, shaking your head and leaning into his hold.

"He's been bothering me for like forty minutes, and then he touched me, and-" He leans back to look at your face, a frown present on his features.

"He touched you?" His voice is gravelly and you can practically feel the anger building in his body.

"Not too bad," you rush to say, but the man's already pulling you along with him, back to his previous seat.

"Brady, keep her safe for me." He's gone, and you're left in front of another curly haired man.

"Hey hun, you ok?" A woman asks, her hand resting on your shoulder gently. "We saw him bothering you, and then suddenly Matt was up and gone."

Nodding you smile at her weakly.

"I'm ok, just not used to.. that." You gesture vaguely and she nods, pulling you into her side.

"I'm Taryn, and this is Brady." She gestures to the other curly haired man. "And you've met our brother, Matt."

"I'm Yn," you smile and let yourself be lead further into the table, settling into the seat Matt once held.

"Did you come with people? Want us to find them?" Brady asks and you shrug.

"They all kinda abandoned me for guys, I think I'm the only one still here."

"Fuck that," Taryn declares, shaking her head. "You don't leave each other alone, that's fucked."

Matt chooses that moment to slide back up to the table, immediately coming to your side, chest touching your shoulder as he leans over to Brady.

"May or may not have just been told to leave, here-" he throws some cash down on the table and looks at you. "Would you like me to walk you?"

"Oh, you've already done enough for me, Matt, I'll be ok," you try to sound convincing, but he just raises an eyebrow.

"We're gonna head off, I'll make sure she gets home safely." Matt throws an arm around your shoulder and leads you away from the table and out into the fresh air outside.

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," his voice is soft and serious as he speaks. "But if you don't want me to, just say the word, and I'm gone, I promise."

"No!" Shuffling closer to him subconsciously, he grins. "Thank you. For everything."

"Just did what I'd want someone to do for my sister." He shrugs but you know he means it.

You walk in silence for a moment before you suddenly remember something.

"What did you mean by when you said you were told to leave? What happened?"

"I punched him."

[jackhues]

im sorry i love delilah

imagine matthew putting her in little panthers gear for some event, and for some reason she wants to wear bobs jersey not matts and matthews like, sorry pickle you dont have a bob jersey and she goes on the ice all pouty, but then when she comes back theres a little bob jersey in mattys locker

do not apologize, i love lilah too! [takes place before the 23/24 season]

"c'mon, my del," matthew ushered her along, down the halls of amerant bank arena, and towards the locker room. "we gotta get you in your jersey if you want to be in the video."

"coming daddy," lilah gripped her stuffed panther 'kitty' in one hand, and held matthew's hand with her free one.

people rushed in and out of rooms, up and down the hallways, trying to get everything sorted for media day. delilah wanted to be in one of the challenge videos, but she was supposed to wear some sort of panthers gear if she wanted to be in it. although no one was going to enforce that rule with her, delilah wanted to wear her jersey and matthew was perfectly fine with it too.

"here, arms up please, let's get your jersey on," matthew held out the smaller 'tkachuk' jersey that hung in his stall, coming along with the other jerseys.

"can i have a bobby jersey?" she asked. "bobby played really good last time, and he gave me a chocolate today, did you know that? he's a goalie too, goalies are really cool. i think i want to wear a bobby jersey."

"aw, sorry pickle, but you don't have a bobby jersey," he reminded her. "you can wear the tkachuk jersey right now, and the bobby one when we can find one."

"aw, i wanted to wear it now," she pouted.

"matthew!" someone poked their head in the door. "matthew tkachuk, it's your turn for solo shots!"

"yeah, one second," he said to the assistant. he turned back to delilah, who'd taken a seat in his stall, and was kicking her feet dejectedly. "tell you what my del, why don't you go and help them take pictures and videos? maybe you'll convince one of the guys to give you their prize."

delilah continued to pout, but allowed matthew to lead her to where the other panthers were doing challenges and playing games as they waited their turn.

"i'll be back soon, pickle," matthew promised, kissing the top of her head.

he made his way to where his solo shots were going to take place, unable to get delilah's little pouty face out of his mind. the last thing he ever wanted to do was make her sad.

"and you're done," the photographer smiled, letting matthew leave.

his first thought was to stop by the waiting room where delilah would be, but then he remembered how sad she was... and so he took a little detour. not far, simply to the panthers' shop in the arena. luckily they had what he was looking for, and in the right size.

he stashed it in his locker, before stopping by the waiting room, where challenges and games were taking place. delilah was sitting on the floor, multiple drawings, and even more chocolates around her. apparently, she was giving out her drawings to her favourite players (all of them, but especially bob), and they all gave her chocolates and candies in return.

"hey del," matthew knelt next to her, a little surprised to see that she was still upset. usually, she got over things quickly.

"hi daddy," she responded, continuing her drawing.

"why don't you come with me to the locker room, huh? i got a surprise for you," he held out his hand.

delilah looked at him, but they both knew she'd never say no to matthew's outstretched hand.

"okay," she took his hand, allowing him to lead her to the locker room.

on the way there, matthew realized he never did anything special for her. there were no chocolates or candies or drawings in his locker waiting for her. just one simple thing, something he didn't even have to pay for.

but then delilah squeezed his hand as she followed him, and all of his nervousness flew away. this was his del, his little pickle: she'd be happy with a can of worms. this was better than that, at least.

as soon as her eyes landed on matthew's stall, she gasped. she couldn't read perfectly yet, but she'd seen that name on bob's jersey tens of times.

"is that a bobby jersey? for me?" she looked up at her dad.

"for you," matthew agreed. "you wanted one, so i got you one."

delilah tilted her head at him, unfamiliar with the idea of getting anything she ever wanted. even though matthew tried to spoil her, there wasn't much she wanted. and before matthew, there was no one giving her what she wanted. so it was still a little new to her.

but then she smiled, her toothy little grin that made matthew's heart melt every time, and she gave him the biggest hug she could. "thank you, daddy! you're the best!"

"even better than bobby?" he joked.

"hmmm, i don't know, but you're better than uncle brady," she decided.

matthew laughed, "alright, i'll take it. now, arms up, let's get your bobby jersey on."

[lfghughes]

hi!!!

could you do one with Matthew Tkachuk? Him and his girlfriend at a post-victory party, you walk away for a few seconds and a big, drunk man tries to hit on you in a rude way. Imagine a jealous and overprotective Tkachuk.

a/n: i feel like i say this a lot but this was one of the most fun things i've ever written so i hope you enjoy it. overprotective tkachuk might just be my favorite thing and yes i had to use this gif.

warning: cursing, alcohol, fighting, and slight smut mention at the very end

The boys were leading the series 3-0 and even though it was still early to celebrate because if anyone knew about making comebacks when you were down by 3 it was your boyfriends team. But you all still wanted to celebrate the fact that you made it this far into playoffs and you were one win away from going to the Stanley cup final. The pre-mature celebration was going to happen regardless and you knew if or when that final win happened you guys would do it all over again.

There were plenty of drinks going around the bar and well the Panthers team definitely knew how to get a party started here in South Florida. “Hey babe, I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick. Can you hold my drink?” You asked Matthew and he immediately grabbed your cup from you. Not only was he great on the ice but he made a fantastic bag holder and cup holder when needed. This was something you teased him about constantly.

On your way back from the bathroom you searched the crowd and it was hard to find Matthew in the mix of all the teammates and just regular people that were out but finally your eyes landed on him. As you were making your way back to him someone caught your arm and when you turned to see who you were a little surprised because it was some stranger. When you had first been grabbed you had figured it was one of the boys trying to get your attention but not a stranger. “Excuse me sir.” You pulled your arm away and immediately felt uncomfortable because you could tell this guy had way too much to drink.

“I was just wondering if I could buy a pretty girl like you a drink?” You should have just walked away and left the conversation as soon as you could but instead you shook your head. “I’m good! My boyfriend is holding my drink over there.” You pointed out to him but you realized Matthew was not where you last saw him. Now came the nerves. “Just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate ya.”

Yeah, you needed to walk away but there were too many bodies around not letting you move but before you could even try to wriggle around people you saw the strangers body get pulled away from you and your boyfriend stepped in between you two. “I don’t know what the hell you’ve been saying to my girlfriend but you need to leave her alone.” You were used to Matthews aggressiveness on the ice and you had seen his jealous side come out before but this was different.

“Go mind your own business, I was just offering to buy your pretty girlfriend a drink maybe she should be more appreciative.” This was going to get bad, you could tell by Matts body language and the way he tensed up. “She is my business so step back.” That should have been enough warning but clearly it wasn’t because the guy stepped forward closer. Before you could grab Matthew and walk away fists started flying and it took a solid five minutes before the security in the bar and the other boys could pull Matthew off the other.

It was no surprise that Matthew got asked to leave and you gladly left with him because this night had clearly gone down the drain. “I’m sorry for ruining your night out.” You told him quietly as you walked to the car. He stopped immediately, stepping in front of you and placing his hand gently on the side of your face. “You didn’t do anything, that guy was an ass.” A small smile grew on your lips as you looked up at him. “I will say it was pretty hot when you got all overprotective.” You pointed out and a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh yeah? Well I guess I should get us home so you can show me how hot you think I was.”

[midnightsnyx]

could you write “I’m not jealous! It’s just that, you’re mine!” with matthew tkachuk? love the way you write him <3

thank u so much!!!❤️❤️ this is short but hopefully you like it!

His eyes have been following you all night. When you had agreed to join him with some of your mutual friends to the bar, you figured that the night would go as it usually does. You live in the same apartment so you take a taxi together to the bar but both usually leave separately but not alone. Well, usually you leave alone before Matt takes home some random girl who is always gone the next morning when you go to his apartment with breakfast burritos and coffee to help with the inevitable hangover you both have after a night out. An odd, but comfortable routine.

Tonight is different. He’s turned away every girl that approaches him but he’s watching you like a hawk, especially when a cute guy approaches you and asks to buy you a drink. You almost accept but there’s something about the look on Matt’s face that stops you. You can’t pinpoint it but it’s something akin to jealousy so you smile politely at the guy and tell him you’re waiting for someone. Once he leaves, you look at Matt and tilt your head slightly, hiding a smile when he excuses himself from the conversation he’s having with a friend and walk over to where you are sitting.

He orders another drink for himself and orders your favorite without having to ask.

“You know, it’s okay if you’re jealous,” you say cautiously, hoping you didn’t read his demeanor wrong.

“I have no idea what you mean,” he says and tenses up, looking anywhere but at you.

“So, if I go find the guy that offered to buy me a drink you wouldn’t be jealous?”

“I’m not jealous! It’s just that, you’re mine!” He says, eyes widening at the admission.

“Yours?” You repeat, raising an eyebrow, watching him stumble over his words before putting him out of his misery.

“If you wanted me in your bed, all you had to do was ask.”

His eyes widen comically. “Really?”

“No,” you scowl, smacking the back of his head with a napkin. “What kind of girl do you think I am? I’d expect you to wine and dine me first.”

He grins, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear and letting his fingers softly trace down your neck before he lets his hand drop. “I know a 24 hour diner just down the street.”

“Matthew.”

He chuckles, “kidding, I’m kidding.” He’s nervous but looks at you hesitantly, “will you go out to dinner with me?”

You hop off the bar stool and offer him your hand, “let’s see what that 24 hour diner offers.”

[youunravelme]

Hope you are okay re the medical issues you mentioned!! Just wanted to say that I cannot wait for Murphy’s Law!! Your fics are truly some of the best I’ve read on tumblr and I definitely consider you my favourite Mat Barzal writer!! Can I ask how you come up with the plots for your pieces? Maybe my imagination just isn’t great but I don’t think I’d ever be able to do it haha

Keep up the amazing work! 💞

i'm good now lol, to summarize my medical problems: i had gallstones and really bad flare ups. i'll probably have to get surgery to get my gallbladder removed at some point, but that's a problem for a later date lolol.

you're too kind!! seriously, thank you for sending sweet messages like this, makes my day/night each and every time.

now i'm gonna warn you, this is way more in depth than you probably wanted, but we both know i'm not good at being succinct.

as far as plot, maybe this isn't the best way, but it works for me. for most of the fics i'm currently writing, i think of a trope and build off that. so for this is how you fall in love, i started with fake dating and built in mommy issues and other female character's internalized misogyny and the reader's insecurity. for the first fic i wrote, head start, i wanted a childhood best friends to lovers for jack. for murphy's law, i took the brother's best friend trope and added fwb to it. for this matty tkachuk fic, i took the second chance romance with a heaping pile of suffering and angst and started writing that.

now for to all the girls you've loved before, i was projecting because i was a nanny at the time (i wasn't in love with the dad lol, in case that was ever a thought someone had) and wanted to create a world where ordinary people could fall in love with a famous person lolol my favorite disney princess is cinderella, can you tell?

for the worst wing woman, i built the story off the reader's profession and personality instead of a specific trope.

but i also use music to inspire me as well! drops of jupiter was taken from the train song but an angstier version, if that makes sense. it's nice to have a friend was inspired by seven by taylor swift.

i read a shit ton of fics (which is one reason it takes me so long to write lolol) and i find so much inspiration in just the words people are using to create beautiful stories and phrases (i'm looking at you @chewingcyanide). i think improving your writing means reading other people's work and getting inspiration from the things they're creating. i literally look at emme's (chewingcyanide, linked above) work and take mental notes at the sheer talent in her word choice, it's so evocative. or i'll look into @thewintersoldierdisaster's works and get righteously jealous of her banter and dialogue (seriously check her stuff out!).

i say all this to say there's not a wrong or right way to write and find inspiration. i think starting with tropes or songs might be the easiest, but i always shoot to make it my own. ultimately speaking, it's about writing what you love and what inspires you the most.

[bropunzeling]

I‘d love to read your commentary on „honey and a sting“, especially on scenes from Leon‘s summer in Sicily, please💙

thank u for this excuse to not do my writing that i was gonna do (i WILL do it. seattle au waits for no man. or jess.)

Once they’ve made it through the menu, Leon gets a full pour of the first wine she tried and heads outside, where there’s tables and chairs and a pergola, and a small, low wall overlooking the grounds. [i did so much googling for this sequence and in conclusion: i would like to go to siciliy. when can i go to sicily.] Leaning over that wall, she tries to take in the view. Rolling hills, lines of grapevines stretching as far as she can see; tall, conical trees fluttering at the edges of the field. [again: when can i go to sicily!!!!] It’s beautiful, the kind of place she should take a picture of, show off to all her friends and acquaintances and the thousands of strangers who follow her on Instagram.

Instead she holds her wineglass in one hand and stares at her fucking phone. [there's something about phones that like. idk it's a thing i think about a lot more in our Modern Era but also when writing a fic like this that has an inherent long-distance component. the phone as the only tether to someone. the phone as a representation of the person you can't reach (or that you are refusing to let connect to you, in the playoffs sequence). idk in retrospect the phone carried so much weight throughout this whole fic, and more as it went on!] Earlier at the house she hadn’t had time to look at Twitter or Instagram; now she can’t seem to stop, scrolling through the posts over and over. Contract signed; here are the terms. A statement: so excited to join the Panthers organization. Oh, and congratulations to Brady on his engagement. What a weekend for the Tkachuk family. [i just like the rhythm of this bit a lot! lots of choppy, short fragmented sentences. i like how it feels like reading through a feed. i also find i tend to default to shorter sentences for leon pov? idk just something about it makes sense to me.]

It makes her sick to her stomach.

The thing is. The thing is, she’d been ready to get over him. [liar] Or, not ready, not exactly, but she’d been—preparing to be ready. She thought she knew what to expect. Four games a year, sixty minutes at a time, Matthew in Calgary red and grinning obnoxiously at her around his mouthguard. Sure, she wouldn’t see him before every game; sure, he wouldn’t come over to hers, sit on her couch and pet her dog and be—but in time, she’d manage it. He’d go back to being who he was to her before 2020, before that one fucking All-Star Game and all that followed, and eventually she’d stop feeling like the walls of her chest were caving in every time she thought about him. [obviously this never could have happened the way she thought, but also i just really like the trade as a big pivot point/method of crystallization. the increase in distance making it how clear leon wasn't going to be over him, that there was no going back to the start. that she started something that couldn't be reversed a long long time ago! idk! the trade provides so much narrative richness and works as such a great fulcrum for those kinds of realizations.]

He can’t go back to who he was to her if he’s in Florida. She won’t even see him, not really. Twice in November. And he won’t be in the condo she remembers, the hall she has memorized, won’t be in the right shade of red, won’t be—

He won’t be hers. Not in the way she wants him now; not even in the small way she had him before. [i just really like this moment! again, leon forced to realize what it is she actually wanted at the time -- for what they had to keep going ad infinitum. and when confronted with the actuality that things change (and perhaps her own actions spurred that change/made it more likely to pass) she has regrets about it! idk something something we can't stay static, we are always changing? yk.]

Before she registers what she’s doing, she’s opening her contacts, scrolling down until she finds him. When she taps on his name, the call history stares back at her: June 6th, one incoming call, declined.

She hits call.

As the phone rings in her ear, she abruptly realizes she hadn’t thought about time differences. [me, the author: fuck i haven't thought about time differences] She doesn’t know where he is—St. Louis? Florida? Somewhere else? There’s no picture on her phone for her to guess from. [callback to one of their little intimacy things that i really liked where he would send her pictures of skylines] Fuck, what if he’s doing something? What if she has to leave a voicemail? What if she—

“Leon?”

Hearing Matthew say her name for the first time in months hits her hard, a fist to the stomach. She has to suck in a breath, high and whistling, just to try and get enough air to speak. [there's just something about a really difficult phone call that like. physically hits you. right?]

“Leon?” Matthew repeats slowly. “Is that—”

“Matthew,” Leon finally manages. “Um. Hi.”

“Hi,” Matthew replies. There’s another pause. “Not to be rude, but why…”

“Um,” Leon says, trying to marshall the thoughts in her head. It’s not going well. [i was trying pretty hard in this sequence through the sentence structure and repetition of details to convey that sort of frantic like---leon thought everything had already fallen apart and now it's falling apart even worse. the one thing she thought wouldn't change is changing. something like that.] All she can think about is eight years, five thousand kilometers, two games, the wrong shade of red. “I, uh, I saw. About the trade.”

“Oh.” Matthew says.

And fuck, Leon really should hang up, she really should stop—this isn’t helping, this is just making things worse, only—

“Florida?” she asks, in a very small voice. [i'm one of those people who has little scraps of dialogue and sentences in a notes app note for most wips, and this was one of them! once i made the pivot to account for the trade in the first place anyway haha]

Matthew laughs—no, not really a laugh. More like a huff of air, rough and unfunny. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I—I wasn’t going to stay, not after Johnny—and it seems like a good fit for me. So.” [obvi irl matthew has his own motivations for getting tf out of calgary (and it's fun to explore different takes on those motivations in different scenarios, obviously i go different routes in marriage bets or omega!matthew or what have you) but there is definitely more than a lil element of heartbreak playing into this one. it wasn't ALL because leon broke his heart, of course, he had more concrete reasons, but it didn't not factor in.]

“Right,” Leon says weakly. “Right.” Her stomach hurts. “It’s, uh. Pretty far from Calgary.” [pretty far from ME] And she knows, she knows as soon as she says it that he’ll see what she’s saying, that he’ll know she’s not thinking about Calgary at all—fuck, how pathetic can she be—and yet she can’t stop herself.

“Yeah,” Matthew says. “Yeah, it is.” More silence. “Listen, I’m going to lunch with my family soon, I should really—”

“No, you should—yeah,” Leon says. “Um. Congratulations. I—I hope it’s what you want.” [(a) god love an awkward conversation (b) leon trying to be supportive while working thru her feelings and just unable to conceal them? that's the good stuff for me.]

“Yeah, well, it'll be—yeah,” Matthew says. “Anyways. I, uh. I’m glad you called.” Another of those not-laughs; another punch to her gut. “Could’ve been sooner, but—well. Good to hear from you.” [would matthew have changed his mind? mmmmm i think on balance no. but also he just wants to hear from leon all the time. big in love energy.]

“Yeah,” Leon replies, before her voice dies in her throat and she can’t say anything else. [i hate writing sadness but i do love when my guys are a little sad. conundrums. but i thought this scene worked pretty well!]

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hi bestie!

Can I get a lil urban rom com with Matty Tkachuk pls🥺 with smut prompt 22？or just choose what you like

like hook up with him then find out his your new neighbour (it's corny i know but）

Luv you!

Hey bestie!

Love this request. Since I used your requested prompt in the first part I added smut prompt 19 as a little extra for you🤍hope you enjoy this!

“I know you can be louder than that”

You were still thinking about the words that your mystery guy had whispered in your ear before he gave the most toe curling orgasm you’d ever had and probably would ever have going forward.

It was both amazing and sucked, because while the sex had been incredible you had no idea who he was or where to find him. The odds of you ever seeing him again were slim to none.

Or so you thought.

What happened last night was a rare occurrence. It wasn’t often that you went wild but when you did you went WILD.

You could count the number of times you’d gone home with someone on one hand, and you’d still have fingers left. But given the opportunity you’d fill up both hands and all ten toes if it meant he was responsible for all of them. Sex aside, the most memorable thing about him was his smile. It was wide and genuine, the kind that made his eyes crinkle and made you want to smile back at him without even knowing who he was. That’s what had started it all. That damned smile.

You sighed and threw yourself down on your sofa. There was a loud racket from down the hall, and you assumed someone new was moving in, which is why you didn’t bother to check. It wasn’t uncommon to get new neighbors now and again, and while you normally would have introduced yourself, you were too busy sulking about your once in a lifetime sexual encounter to get off the sofa.

As the morning wore on the racket became almost impossible to ignore and when multiple voices now joined in, your curiosity got the better of you. Grabbing your keys and stepping into your shoes. You locked your door and as you turned the corner you collided with a person carrying a box, and both of you stumbled and the box fell, contents spills across the walkway.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry-“ you gasped, leaning down to start picking things up.

“It’s fine don’t-“

You both glanced up at the same time and your mouth fell open a little.

Your mystery guy from last night was kneeling in front of you, staring at you the way you were staring at him.

“Oh my god.” You said leaning back a little, smile stretching across your face.

“Well well. I thought this place looked familiar.” He chuckled and extended one hand, that smile spreading across his face “Matt. We didn’t do introductions last night…I don’t think.”

“I don’t know. We were both pretty trashed.” You said with a giggle extending a hand also “Y/N”

“Nice to meet you…again that is. I was kicking myself this morning for not getting your name or number last night and figured I’d probably never see you again.”

“Guess the universe had other plans for you.”

“Not complaining. So you live here I’m assuming?” He asked straightening up. He had been hot last night, especially illuminated by the neon at the bar, but in the daylight?

Wow.

He was even better looking.

He was also wearing a very tight T-shirt and even though you’d seen him in no shirt, and no clothes period, you couldn’t help but stare at the veins the went from his forearm down to his hand, and the muscles that were clearly visible through his shirt.

“I do. Guess we’re neighbors now then huh?”

He smiled and picked up the box “Guess so.”

“Well if you ever need to borrow a cup of sugar come to me first.”

“And if I need something else?” He took a step forward eyes peering into your own.

Wow we’re they blue. You’d really missed out on the fine details last night. But in your defense you hadn’t been thinking with your eyes.

“Depends on what it is.”

His eyes twinkled as he jerked his head over his shoulder in the direction of his apartment.

Your heart was beating in your ears as you followed him, excitement bubbling up inside of you. While this probably wasn’t going to result in some kind of a relationship between you, it could result in some awesome, semi-regular sex that you were more than okay with.

You watched as he set down the box and closed his front door, lock clicking as he turned to you. You were backed up against the kitchen counter, the same one you had in your own apartment, and watched as he very slowly made his way over to you. He was sweaty, curly hair everywhere but he looked hotter now than he did last night, if that was even possible. His lips pushed up against yours, hands low on your waist. It was slow for just a few seconds before he swiped his tongue across your lower lip, and pushed it inside your mouth, hoisting you up on the counter. His hands came up to either side of your face, as he pulled away and came in at a different angle. You felt like you were drowning as his mouth moved heavily against yours as you let a breath escape. Your tank top strap slipped off your shoulder, exposing top of your bra. He slid down the other one, your shirt coming to pool around your waist. You let out a breath as he pulled away for a second, looking down, one hand coming to rest between your legs. You gasped, eyes moving up to meet his own, as he gently moved your underwear to the side and rubbed a small circle before he slipped two fingers inside.

You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs but instead you bit your lip and let your head fall back eyes sliding closed. The sensation between your legs was almost blinding you when he suddenly pulled his hand out, and picked you up, carrying you back to what you presumed was his bedroom. You both landed on the mattress with a small “oof” and his mouth was immediately back on yours. You pulled his shirt over his head and quickly pushed his shorts down, kicking out of your own shorts and allowing him to pull your underwear down. He spread your legs apart, eyes moving up your body until they landed on your face. He slotted himself between your legs before he leaned up and whispered in your ear.

“I’m going to make you feel so good”

He pushed slowly inside of you, your back arching up off the bed. His head fell forward as he pulled out and pushed in again with a small gasp.

It was even better than last night, as you glanced down and watched the muscles in his abdomen flex as he moved in and out of you. Your reached up your hands placing one of either side of his lower back, digging your nails into his skin. He leaned forward kissing you roughly before he pulled out of you and flipped you over, pulling you on to all fours before he backed you up and pushed back inside of you.

“Oh my God.” You moaned out as he hit a spot you weren’t even aware existed, one hand splayed on your lower back. The other hand wrapped around your hair and twisted it giving it a very firm tug. The sensation of your hair being rugged and the warm friction that had built in between your legs was too much as you felt your body heat up and for the second time in 2 days, he’d given you an earth shattering orgasm that had you screeching as he pushed sloppily in and out of you. You collapsed under him and closed your eyes as he pulled out slowly and landed next to you. After a few moments he glanced over, giving you that smile that had started it all.

“I think I’m going to like living here.”

[sorryjustafangirl]

wish we were older

a/n: two fics in one week? do not get used to this lol. but in honour of his 200th assist, here is a fic that's been a wip for way too long. it's based off of angel baribeau's song 'wish we were older' and is basically 4 times matthew wished he was older and one time he didn't. also there's a little easter egg in this one let me know if you find it ;)

pairing: matthew tkachuk x gn!reader

word count: 4k+

warnings: a couple swears, one mention of sex, kids

disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction and real person fiction so if that doesn't vibe with you, please don't read! also, gif is not mine, all credit to the wonderful creator.

Most people want to be younger. In Western society, aging is one of the worst things that can happen to you. There are skin treatments and surgeries to make your skin look younger, look healthier. When you’re young, you have no responsibilities, no expectations, there’s no judgement. Most people want to be younger, but not Matthew Tkachuk. He always knew that all he wanted was to be older – to live his life with you.

one - age six

“Can we play my game now?” You whined, standing in front of the soccer net. He had invited you over to play, and as his best friend, you said yes. But you didn’t think he’d make you stand in front of a net while he scored on you over and over again.

“Fine,” He grumbled, picking up the ball. “What do you want to play?”

“House!” You grinned widely, and Matthew found himself smiling at you despite how much he’d rather be kicking a ball than playing house. He liked making you happy.

You walked over to the small playhouse that was in their backyard and explained that he was going to be at work and you were going to be home and you’d make him supper. He didn’t like house that much because there was a lot of doing nothing on his end so he tried making a suggestion.

“Shouldn’t we be married if we play house?”

“I mean, I guess, but we can just pretend we’re married.”

“No, I think we should, like, do a wedding and stuff. It’ll be fun! I can make us rings!” His eyes lit up at the idea of doing something that wasn’t sitting around and when you looked over at him, you couldn’t deny his request. You liked seeing him smile.

“Fine, we can do that. I can pick some flowers!” You went to the garden to pull yourself a bouquet while Matthew ran inside.

“Mom?” He yelled, running into the kitchen. Chantel set down the knife she was holding to look over to her oldest son.

“What?”

He grabbed a cracker for the snack board she had set out and stuffed it in his mouth. He grumbled out his words but his mom just raised her eyebrows.

With a mouthful of crackers, he managed to get out his words. “Where’s the tinfoil?”

“I can grab it for you.” She turned to the drawer next to her and pulled out the container. He went to grab it, but she pulled it back. “Why do you want it?”

“I need to make rings! Y/n and I are going to get married!”

“Really?” Matthew nodded with his chest puffed out.

“I hate to break it to you, but normally you get married to people you love.”

“I love Y/n.” Or at least he thought he did. It was what his parents had and what his grandparents had. It was liking someone enough to spend all your time together and he already did that with you.

His mom gave him an amused smile. “Well, you’ve got to be older to get married, sweetheart.”

“Then I wish I was older!”

“Don’t wish your life away son!” His dad called from the other room and Matthew sighed, grabbing the tinfoil container to go back outside to play with you where his parents couldn’t burst his bubble.

He sat down pulling the tin foil to make two tiny rings, big enough for just your small fingers. When he was finished, he looked for you and saw you sitting on the ground putting a bouquet together. He just looked at you and looked at how the sun made your hair look pretty, smiling. This was a lot better than playing house.

“Are you done?” He asked. You nodded and stood up, him doing the same. You met in the middle and he started.

“Do you want to marry me?”

You nodded. “I do.” He slid one of the makeshift rings onto your hand. “Do you want to marry me?”

“I do,” he answered, and you slid the other ring onto his finger. “Ta-da! We’re married now!”

You grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling away to dance in the grass. Matthew stood back, in shock from your kiss, before softening and admiring you. Despite his dad’s words from earlier, he still wanted to be older.

two - age thirteen

“It’s Y/n! I got it!” Matthew yelled to the house as he saw your phone number pop up on the TV he was watching. He raced to his bedroom, grabbing the phone from his parents’ bedroom on the way. Your family had moved away from his, not far, but you were still his closest friend. You talked all the time at school and you always came to his games. He flopped on his bed before answering the ringing phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Matty?” The tone of your voice had him sitting upright immediately. Your voice was quiet and he swore he heard it crack.

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What? No. Why do you think you’re stupid?”

You sniffled on the other end. “Charlie told me I was. And ugly too.” Charlie, aka your ‘boyfriend’. There was no label but from what you told Matthew, you both really liked each other.

“Charlie said that? Are you kidding me?” You mumbled a ‘no’ and Matthew sighed. “Well, you’re not those things. Charlie’s the stupid ugly one.”

You stayed silent. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“How can I? Charlie’s the most popular guy in Mr. Jackson’s class. And he like-liked me. Or I thought he did,” you said, wiping some stray tears away.

“How can I make you feel better?” You shrugged even though he couldn’t see you.

“A hug would be nice but it’s already past my bedtime, and you have a game tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. Matthew felt helpless.

“It’s fine, Matty. Thanks for listening.”

“Yeah, yeah, anytime. I mean that, call me whenever, I don’t mind.” You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, but he couldn’t shake this feeling he had – like he didn’t do his job as your best friend. That’s when he had his idea.

“Mom! Can you drive me to Y/n’s house?”

“Matthew, it’s almost time for bed and you have a game tomorrow,”

“I know but I need to go to Y/n’s right now, Mom, please! It’s important,” He pleaded and Chantel narrowed her eyes. Pursing her lips, she nodded, grabbing the car keys and opened the garage door. Matthew raced out to the car and put his seatbelt, wiggling in his seat until they were on their way to you. She had barely put the car in park in front of your house before Matthew was running towards the front door.

He knocked a few times and you timidly opened the door, peaking your head out. He sent you a smile and your eyes started to well with tears. He immediately brought you into a hug and you relished in the comfort of your best friend.

The two of you sat on your porch steps and in no time, Matthew had you laughing about silly jokes about Charlie, telling you how you’re way too smart for him anyways. You leaned your head on his shoulder and thanked him for coming over to comfort you.

“It’s nothing. You needed me and I came. No big deal.”

The honk of Chantel’s car blared quickly, and he sighed. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow after my game, right?” You nodded your head and he gave you another hug.

“Matthew! Let’s go!” He rolled his eyes at his mom, but knew she wouldn’t hesitate to get out of the car and drag him to bed. He left your porch and climbed back into the car, waving at you as you went back inside your house.

“Why couldn’t I have five more minutes?” He grumbled as his mom drove away.

“Until you’re old enough to drive yourself around on game nights, I will decide when we leave.”

He sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned against the window. ‘I wish I was older’ were his last thoughts before he slipped into his dreams.

three - age nineteen

Matthew had asked you out the summer after sophomore year and the two of you had been going out ever since. He was a happier version of himself when he could call you his and he could unashamedly compliment you in public. Even when he was drafted to the OHL, it didn’t hinder the connection you had. The long distance wasn’t ideal, but he was still relatively close. Calgary was much further away.

You had accepted a full ride scholarship to the University of Missouri-St. Louis, and there was no way Matthew would let you give that up just so the two of you could be closer. He’d seen you work so hard, doing homework while watching his games and reading papers until 2am on FaceTime with him. You were two years into your degree and loving it, he couldn’t ask you to leave all of that to come to Calgary with him.

He didn’t even have to ask you to come with him to see the city for the first time. School wouldn’t start for another week, and neither of you were ready for the year ahead. You’d joined the family on the plane, his hand never leaving yours (except to put your carry-on in the overhead compartment). The two of you toured the city, sharing in the mundane moments like seeing the Calgary Tower and the dinosaurs at the zoo (“What other kind of zoo has dinosaurs babe?! They move! This is so cool.”). The family all went out for dinner the night before your flight was to depart from Calgary and the whole night was spent with Matthew’s hand on your thigh. You leaned into him as Keith shared stories of baby Matthew and Brady chimed in with his own chirps. You’d all shared a bottle of wine and Matthew’s billets had given you permission to stay the night with him, as long as nothing happened. You assured them the two of you would be on your best behaviour, and even when he teased you, you shut it down. The random grown adults upstairs were enough to kill the mood.

The two of you brushed your teeth together, catching glances in the mirror, Matthew’s hand resting on your hip bone. You bumped into his side and he sent you a cheeky smile before softly bumping you back. He finished changing into his pajamas first, the Superman pair you had bought him last Christmas as a joke. When he asked why Superman, you simply replied, “Because you’re my hero Matty.” He’d never forgotten those words. When you finished changing, you turned to see him under the covers, one hand holding the comforter up, so you could snuggle in beside him.

You pressed your head against his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat you wouldn’t hear for a while. His hand softly traced over your back, his other hand playing with your fingers. You slowly dozed off and Matthew was quick to follow you. It wasn’t hard when he was holding the love of his life in his arms.

The next morning, you had a hard time getting out of bed. Not just because you’d have to leave, but because Matthew’s grip around your waist wouldn’t budge.

“Matty, I have to get up, your parents will be here soon.” He groaned but released you and watched you get ready from the bed. He watched the way your hair fell naturally, the way your forehead wrinkled when you couldn’t find something, the way your eyes softened when they met his. He made grabby hands from the bed and you checked the clock. You humored him and fell back into his embrace for five more minutes.

You pulled him out of bed, pajama pants and all, to say goodbye as his parents pulled up into the driveway. They let you and him have a private goodbye, standing by the car. Matthew was quick to take you into his arms.

“I wish we were older so we didn’t have to say goodbye,” He mumbled into your shoulder. His words brought tears to your eyes and you swallowed before you answered him.

“It’s not a goodbye, it’s a see you soon.” You rubbed his back and he squeezed you even tighter. You tried to pull away but he refused, holding you for just another minute before letting go. Your hands found their way to his face, lightly stroking his cheekbones. “Listen to me, Matty. You are going to be amazing here, okay? You’re going to blow everyone away, I just know it. I’ll be cheering you on the whole time.”

He nodded and pulled you in for one last kiss. You squeezed his hand before passing him off to his parents, getting into the car beside Brady. When the Tkachuks were all buckled in, Keith put the car in reverse, starting the drive to the airport. You waved to Matthew and he waved back. You softly mouthed ‘I love you’ and he said it back. As he got smaller and smaller in the background, you couldn’t help but hope Matthew’s wish would come true soon.

four - age twenty four

Johnny became a dad. Lucic's kid started kindergarten. His cousin got married. The PT, Leila, just had her baby. It didn't help Taryn kept sending him pictures of the neighbours’ newborn asking him she was going to be an aunt.

Matthew's hands tightened on his laces and he pulled them tight enough to have white marks on his hands. He shook them and tried to ignore his teammate's coos about his newest addition. Yeah, the kid was cute but did Johnny have to rub it in everyone's faces? He sighed as he put on the rest of his equipment and left the dressing room early. He skated on the ice alone, stickhandling and shooting some loose pucks towards the net-- not that any of them went in. His mind wasn't there.

All he wanted, and all he had wanted for the past five years, was to be your husband. To have kids of his own, to be the family man like his dad. But he had to wait for that.

Matthew Tkachuk isn't an overly patient man. He's driven by impulsive decisions, his mouth running during a game before he can consciously decide what to say. He moves before he can think, his body instinctively moving, on the ice, in a fight, even as a kid he was like that. And he’d tested his patience and done his waiting.

After four years of long distance while you finished your degree, something he was so proud of you for, you were finally in Calgary with him. When you had said you wanted to get your Master's, he had all but begged you to stay in your new hometown with him. He had done four years of virtual dates and FaceTime calls, four years of only seeing each other in the offseason and Christmas because you could never get the All-Star break off of school. He'd done four years without you and there was no way he was letting you leave again.

So you applied to the University of Calgary (no surprise you got accepted) and started your program. He had wanted to propose the moment you got accepted, but he figured it would be best to celebrate the two things separately. So he waited. At first, Matthew thought it was going to be wonderful. You'd spend more time together, he'd get to cheer you on, he'd get to go to sleep with you in his arms. He was mostly right -- but the life you shared was hectic between your school schedule and his intensive regimen. There was barely enough time to plan date nights, let alone the evidential wedding that would happen when he proposed. So he waited longer.

Finally, your program finished and there was time in the world to celebrate that. School was done and you already had a job lined up that started in two weeks. He'd had enough of waiting at that point and popped the question. It was perfect and everything you'd ever wanted and Matt was just happy you said yes. You had always been the one for him but he knew he could be a bit of an asshole every now and again.

So between the engagement, wedding planning, your new job, the start of a new season, Matthew knew it wasn’t the right time for a kid, but goddamn did he ever want one.

Everyone filtered onto the ice, beginning their warmup. He mostly stayed away from the group, his mind on how he couldn't have all the things he wanted. He didn't need, or want, reinforcement from his teammates of what he's missing out on.

He stayed near the back for most of the practice, missing shots left and right, and grimacing every time Sutter’s mouth turned into a frown at him. He just couldn’t get the thought of a family out of his head. What Sunday mornings would be like, how the family photos would look sitting on top of the fireplace, how you’d look holding his kid in your arms...

Gio skated up beside him in line, letting the others go in front of them. "Chucky, what is going on?"

"It's nothing."

"Don't lie to me. What's buggin' ya?" Matt looked up at the ceiling and shifted on his skates like a little kid.

"It's just like... everyone's having kids and having a family and getting married and I just- I want that so badly but it's just not the right time for me and Y/N. I just, like, I wish I was older so I can have that, you know? But whatever, it's fine, I'll get over it."

"You don't have to get over Matt, it's normal. You're having baby fever. And I know it's hard, but enjoy the time the two of you have by yourselves. Take a spontaneous trip. Have sex with the door open. Do all the things you can't with kids. This isn't a waiting period in your life for something better, this is your life. Have some patience, alright kid?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Thanks, man."

"Good, now can you make a goal please? It's embarrassing, Marky isn't even trying." Matt huffed and went off, picking up a puck and hitting the back of the net easily.

+ one - age thirty two

Matthew hopped in his truck and drove away from the arena. Snow was softly falling onto the windshield, but after close to fourteen years after he first came to Calgary, he found comfort in the flakes. A lot had changed since he first came to the city. After Gio was traded, he was named Captain. You had not only moved out from St. Louis to be with him, but he was now your husband.

As he rolled up in the suburban driveway, he smiled as he saw the outside lights welcoming him home. He grabbed his bag and stick, opened the front door, and gently placed it on the floor so as not to disturb his family. He tiptoed his way towards the kitchen, listening to the laughter of his kids.

“When will Daddy be home?” Cameron, your four year old asked. A grin spread across his face and he rounded the corner.

“How about right now?” Shrieks from all Tkachuk kids sent Matthew into a chuckle as Eli, your six year old, launched himself into his arms. Cameron was helped off the counter where he was sitting and you grabbed your eighteen month old, Jada, from her high chair to greet your husband. Cameron joined the group hug and Matthew took a quick moment to sneak in a kiss from you. He tickled Jada’s stomach and her giggles brought a wider grin onto his face, if that was possible.

“Daddy, daddy, can we go skating? I want to show you how good I am at skating now!” Eli asked, once he detangled himself from his dad.

“Sure, bud, after supper, alright?” Matthew ruffled his hair and he smiled, with one tooth missing. He made his way towards you at the stovetop, Cameron on his hip after making the grabby hands at him. He snaked his free arm around your waist and kissed the top of your shoulder.

“How were they today?” You leaned into his embrace as much as you could while keeping an eye on supper.

“They’re your kids so… chaotic as usual. E has been outside as much as he can and Cam spilled his orange juice like four times. He did clean it up, unlike someone’s pile of laundry from his road trip.” He blushed at your glare.

“I love you," He said in a sing-song voice.

“I love you too. The pile is now on your side of the bed so you can’t ignore it. But Jada here finally ate her banana chips, yes she did, yes she did,” you half-said-half-cooed to your daughter on your hip.

“Did she now?” Cameron wiggled in his dad’s arms so he got put down and Matthew took the opportunity to take his daughter from your arms. “Daddy is so proud of you, baby, so proud.” He lightly booped her nose and she giggled. “What about work, did what’s-his-face get back to you?”

“He did, but he wasn’t super helpful, so I’ve got to reach out to his boss and see if she can give me what I need to complete the project. Boys! Suppertime!” You got Jada situated in her high chair and Matthew helped the two boys into their chairs. He served everyone’s plates while you got Jada’s food from the fridge. After a quick saying of grace, the boys dug in and you gave Matthew another kiss before turning to Jada to help her if she needed.

“Daddy, do you know what I know?” Eli said.

“No, bud, what do you know?”

“That me and Cam and Jada are just like you and Uncle Brady and Auntie Taryn because it goes boy and then boy and then girl!” He smiled, even with some food still in his mouth.

“That's right! You are so smart.”

“I want to be like Daddy!” Cameron whined. He crossed his arms and you smiled.

“Of course you can be like Daddy. But first you have to be older," you explained.

“Then I want to be older!”

“Almost, buddy, almost. Do you want to come skating with Eli and I?” Your husband asked. When he nodded, Matthew told the two boys to go get ready and he’d be right there. Then he turned towards you and just watched you with Jada. You turned to him and after a while and tilted your head. He shook his head but you gave him a look. He stood up from his chair, collected the boys plates, before coming behind you.

“It’s nothing...just for as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be older. And I realized that I don’t want to be older anymore. I have everything I could possibly want. I am the husband to the love of my life, I’m taking my two sons skating in our backyard, and I just… I don’t know, it feels really fucking good.”

“Even without a Stanley Cup?”

He bent down to be at your eye level and brought one hand to the back of your neck. He gently brought your lips to his and only broke away when Jada squealed. “I have everything I could possibly want right here. There’s nothing better than this home we built,” He whispered. He heard the boys call for him from the back door and he smiled as he went to get ready.

“Hey babe?” He turned around at your voice. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

thanks for reading and feel free to let me know what you thought!

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[bqstqnbruin]

94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before gives me matt tkachuk vibes so i’ll go with matt 😉

Happy blurb weekend!

you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before

WC: 833

Warnings: None

“Hey, who is that?” you ask Alexa, that curly haired boy standing against the wall looking cornered by the girl he was talking to.

“Uh, I think that’s Matthew, why?”

“Who is he talking to?”

“Arabella, I think.”

“Why does he look like he wants to crawl into a hole?” Matthew looked nervous, like he was about to burst from the situation he was in. He looked like a teenager who was dragged out by their mom to the grocery store when she runs into someone she knew, someone she hasn’t seen in years, and there they are standing in the bread aisle talking about all the embarrassing things he had done in the last few years.

Alexa shrugs. “I think they used to date, so maybe it’s something to do with that?”

You try to ignore it, the two of you standing in the corner of the party watching everyone get more and more drunk. There was something about the holiday parties that you went to that always involved everyone getting drunk and doing something stupid. Last holiday party, someone stole the mistletoe, another, they were moving it around constantly so that different people would spend their night kissing. You could remember one time there was some guy harassing his ex the entire night until she got swept off her feet by this really attractive guy.

You laugh to yourself, thinking about the possibility of you saving Matthew. It didn’t have to be you, but he definitely looked like he needed saving.

“You could go talk to him,” Alexa tells you, noticing that you hadn’t been paying attention to her but Matthew instead. He had looked over at you at least twice and smiled at you, before looking nervous again with Arabella in front of him.

“We don’t know each other.”

“From the looks of it, he could probably get to know you rather than be there with Ella.”

“You think?”

Alexa nods, taking your drink and gently pushing you towards him, telling you to go and save him. Be his knight in shining armor.

You get closer, trying to make it look like you weren’t making a bee line for the dude in distress. You stopped and talked to a few other friends while getting there, trying to tune in on the conversation between Ella and Matthew to see if he even needed you to be there in the first place.

“I always thought you would be with someone by now after our breakup, but I guess you just aren’t good enough for that,” Ella shrugs, not looking at Matthew as she says the shit she does.

He looked angry at that, you walking over to him. You rest your hand on his shoulder, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. You weren’t sure where you were going with this, but hopefully you could find it along the way. “Babe, I thought you were getting me my drink?” you pout, “I got worried.”

Both of them stand there and stare at you in awe. You look at her and introduce yourself. “Thanks for keeping my boyfriend company all this time,” you tell her, watching the anger manifest in the red on her face.

“Matthew, you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend. I just assumed you would be single.”

“Well, they know what they say about assuming, love,” you tell her, Matthew finally coming to and realizing what you were doing for him, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He lets out a laugh at your response.

“How long have you been together?” she asks.

“About four months,” Matthew finally answers.

“Nothing on your Instagram about it,” she tells you, trying to get him in some sort of ‘gotcha’ moment.

You shrug, “Not a big fan of flaunting our relationship. You know how some girls can get. They see a hot man with a girlfriend and they think they need to ruin it because there’s a little piece of them that thinks they still have a chance with him.”

Arabella was seething at this point, trying to do anything to get you two to break. You weren’t going to, and with you by his side, Matthew didn’t seem to be bending at all. She tries a few more times, trying to do anything to get under your skin before she finally gives up, one of her friends dragging her away.

“I owe you my life,” Matthew tells you, finally letting you go when she was gone.

“You looked like you were about to owe the prison system your life if she kept going.”

Matthew laughs, “Good point. But really, anything you want, I’ll do it.”

You didn’t know why you felt bold, but what’s the worst that he could say to you at this point? “How about we make your ex really jealous and you take me on a date?”

Matthew looked taken aback by your request before settling into a nod. “Yeah, sure.”

[so-writing]

On Christmas, you tell the truth. 1/2 - Matthew Tkachuk

On Christmas, you tell the truth. But, at the same time, breaking up is hard to do.

*

December 3, 2020

Your nerves had you up earlier than usual and fussing around the kitchen like a crazy person. You were scrubbing counters that were already clean and constantly switching out the mug you were going to pour your coffee into as soon as it was done.

“Calm down,” you told yourself, “everything is fine.”

Apollo, the young German shepherd the two of you had recently adopted, could sense your anxiety and he was dancing around the kitchen the nearly the same as you were.

“Buddy,” you knelt down and scratched his ears, “I’m sorry. When dad’s home I’ll stop being a nutcase, I promise.”

Matthew Tkachuk was not someone you’d just started seeing. It was the complete opposite, actually, because you’d been together for almost three years. It was, however, the first time in your relationship that you went multiple days with no communication.

“Everything is fine,” you told yourself as you locked the door behind you and headed to your car to pick Matt up from the airport.

I know you haven’t landed but I’m on my way there now.

He didn’t respond, obviously, but you still couldn’t shake the weird vibe you were feeling as you drove to Calgary International Airport. The airport was spacious and it took you a few minutes to reach the arrivals gate where Matt’s flight would deplane but you managed to find it pretty quickly and tucked yourself into an uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room.

Here, Matty, can’t wait to see you.

Matt’s plane eased up to the gate and you did your best to keep your nerves in check as the passenger bridge stretched out to meet the door. You kept your eyes on the entrance to the airport, anxiously waiting for those gorgeous curls and beautiful white smile to appear.

When the passenger bridge began to fold up and pull away from the plane, and Matt was nowhere to be found, you began to panic. What the fuck was going on? Where was he?

Each time you called him, it rang once or twice before going to voicemail. Finally, on the fifth try, you got a response. Matt didn’t answer his phone but he did send a brief text message.

I’m not coming back yet, and I’m not coming back to you at all.

It felt like your heart stopped, like it fell out of your body and you were looking at it laying on the dirty airport floor as it struggled to beat and bled all over the carpet.

What happened?

He didn’t respond right away, giving you just enough time to run to the nearest bathroom and lock yourself in a stall before you fell apart.

This just isn’t working anymore. Honestly, it hasn’t worked in a while.

“Oh,” you said out loud, “that’s hilarious, Matthew.”

You did your best to keep your voice down but the love of your life had just ended your years long relationship via text message, so fuck it.

“It’s so funny that I’m actually laughing,” you weren’t, nearly sobbing was an option though, “because I’m pretty sure you fucking proposed to me last week, asshole.”

“Uh, miss?”

The voice of a stranger pulled you out of your episode, “what?!”

“Are you okay?”

“Definitely fucking not,” you sank to the ground while wiping the tears and ruined makeup from your face.

“Can I do anything?”

“Kill my fiancé? Well, he’s an ex now. Can you kill him anyway?”

“I can’t really do that, but I can walk you to your car or help you get a ride if you’d like?”

This stranger was showing you more kindness than Matt had of late and you couldn’t help yourself from crying again as you pulled yourself off the ground and exited the stall.

“Thanks, sorry, I’m so sorry, thank you so much for being nice to me while I throw a tantrum like this.”

“I’ve seen worse, miss, let’s get you out of here.”

His name was Nolan and he worked on the evening maintenance staff at the airport. He had been married to his high school sweetheart for three years and they had a baby on the way. He was kind, kinder than most people would probably be, and you were more than thankful for it.

“This one’s mine,” you spoke as you unlocked your car with the key fob, “thank you for this. You’ve been kinder and more accepting than you know.”

Nolan listened to you pour your heart out about Matt as he guided you through the airport to the parking garage without saying a word or passing any judgement. Lm

Thank fucking hell for people like Nolan.

“I just have one question, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all, what is it?”

“Why is it that our relationship was solid only one fucking week ago with my family on goddamn Thanksgiving and all of a sudden he’s now willing to end it all? Like honestly, what the fuck? Why the fuck would he do this?”

“I.. I couldn’t tell you, miss.”

“Why would he propose, Nolan? If he knew he was going to end it, why the fuck would he ask me to marry him?!”

He said nothing and you suddenly felt guilty for unloading your bullshit onto a complete stranger.

“I’m sorry, Nolan, I’m so sorry. I’m just, I’m fucking going through it.”

“I know,” he was solemn, “if I were you, I’d demand answers. As far as I know, you don’t propose to someone you really love only to end the relationship a week later, just my two cents though.”

He wasn’t wrong, and it was in that moment that you realized you were more grateful to a complete stranger to anyone else in your life.

“Thanks, Nolan.”

“You’re welcome, good luck.”

You watched him walk away before unlocking your door and jumping into the driver’s seat.

“One more thing,” Nolan shouted across the parking garage, “make him pay for it.”

***

November 26, 2020, Thanksgiving

“We’re going to keep this to ourselves, right?”

“Of course, babe. None of my family knows your nutritionist so we’re good to eat whatever the fuck we want with no consequences!”

Turkey, ham, macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, stuffing and everything else Thanksgiving sat on the table in front of you both.

“I am going to eat until I explode.”

It was the second Thanksgiving with Matt, but the first one you spent together and with your family.

“Matthew,” your mother asked, “more mashed potatoes?”

“Yes, ma’am, always.”

“Anything else?”

You didn’t miss the brief look shared between your younger sister and him before they returned their attention to the table.

“Not yet, ma’am.”

Matt was entirely too proper, always calling your mother ma’am, but she found it adorable and didn’t discourage it.

“Are you guys done with the fancy shit? I want pumpkin pie!”

Everyone at the table laughed but you were too fixated on your father cutting up the pie to notice your mother, sister and Matt making stealthy moves behind you.

“Here,” your father handed you a plate full of pumpkin pie, “let’s eat on the porch?”

“Sure.”

Snow started to fall in the most perfect way. Big, thick flakes fell slowly as they landed in your hair and on your pie.

“Dad, we should go in, it’s snowing.”

“I know, not yet though. Just wait.”

The two of you continued to eat your pumpkin pie on the porch as the snow fell around you. When your pie was gone and your hair was nearly soaked with snowflakes you started to protest.

Your words caught in your throat when you turned to go back inside and saw Matt standing just outside the door in the most dashing suit you’d seen him in yet.

“Can I have a minute?”

Yes. Yes. Yes. Absolutely fucking yes. Matthew Tkachuk could have a million fucking minutes and if he asked for more, you’d gladly give them to him.

“I suppose so.”

He stepped out into the snow and your eyes caught the snowflakes falling into his curls.

“What’s going on, Matty?”

“Well,” he dropped to one knee and pulled a ring box out of his pocket, “I was thinking about proposing.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely yeah.”

He gently grabbed your hand and pulled you off the porch and down into the yard. Snow was falling heavily but it only added to the moment.

“You are my person, my girl, my everything. You are it for me, always have been.”

You were both wet from the cold snow but there wasn’t a time in your life you’d felt warmer. It was always obvious to you that something about Matthew was different than all your other relationships, but this clinched it. This was the real thing and this was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me?”

***

December 15, 2020

If someone knocked on your door right at that moment, and you actually willed yourself out of bed to answer, they would probably think you were a homeless person squatting in a disgusting apartment.

Thank god for contactless delivery.

The kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes and the counters were cluttered with empty takeout containers. There were random articles of clothing spread throughout every room in the apartment and your bedding hadn’t been changed or washed since you returned home from the airport the day Matt ended things.

You showered everyday but it never actually made a difference because you didn’t bother to wash your hair or clean your body, opting instead to lay in the bottom of the tub and cry while water poured down over you.

It was pitiful. You were pitiful but you didn’t care. The only thing that had been keeping you sane was Apollo and even he got tired of your misery. You had asked a friend, Avery, to keep him for a few days while you got yourself together but a few days turned into a few weeks and when she finally called around to ask what was going on with him, you took a few more blows to the heart.

“I know you’re going to be mad at me,” she sighed on the other end of the line while you braced yourself for whatever it was she was going to say.

You could take it, probably, “but I reached out to Matt.”

“For what? Why?”

The sound of someone else saying his name made your stomach hurt, and the thought of someone in your life speaking to him while you weren’t had tears sliding down your cheeks once again.

“Babe, Apollo is not my dog, I love him, but he’s not mine. You’re not in a place right now to care for a dog and since he is also Matt’s, I figured maybe he could come get him.”

“He can’t. He’s not even in Calgary.”

“Babe, he is in Calgary. He can’t have stayed in St. Louis this whole time, there are games between now and Christmas.”

Matt was back in Calgary and he never bothered to tell you or come home? As far as you were concerned, he still fucking lived in your apartment and it definitely showed because all his things were there.

“Well, that’s news to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So what’s happening? Is he coming to get Apollo? Does he not want him anymore? What?”

She was silent for a moment before speaking slowly, carefully planning what to say.

“He’s coming to get him but he asked me not to tell you when because, well, he didn’t go into detail or anything but he doesn’t want to see you.”

Another hot knife sliding across your skin, another wave of tears and this time, for the first time, anger.

“Tell me when he’s coming to get my dog. Tell me right now, you are closer to me than you ever were to him, Avery.”

“I know.”

“So tell me, now.”

“He left about twenty minutes ago. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d come over here and confront him and you’re not ready for that.”

“You don’t get to decide that. He’s back in fucking Calgary and we haven’t even spoken! This is his home and he hasn’t bothered to show up here! Where the fuck is he even staying?!”

You felt your voice rising as anger flooded through you. She was obviously right, you were definitely not ready to see Matt but it felt so deeply personal and painful that he was back in town and hadn’t bothered to even show up to gather his things or offer you any type of explanation for the current events.

I don’t know where he’s staying, he didn’t divulge that information and I wasn’t going to ask. Fuck, I didn’t keep this from you to hurt you, I would never do that. I did it because I don’t want him to see you like this. I don’t want him to see you still so broken while he isn’t at all. It isn’t fair.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re probably right,” you squeezed your eyes shut to stop another wave of tears from falling, “what am I supposed to do though? He’s back here and now he’s got my--our--dog and I'm just nothing to him. I’ve never felt so fucking small, Avery.”

The two of you spoke for a few more minutes and she convinced you to meet her for breakfast in the next couple of days because you ‘needed to get the fuck out of both your head and your home.’ You said goodbye to her and placed your phone face down on the kitchen counter as you pondered over the conversation.

I don’t want him to see you still so broken while he isn’t at all. It isn’t fair.

He wasn’t hurting at all? Probably because he was fucking thriving with whoever the fuck it was that got in the way of your relationship. She was probably skinny and beautiful with perfect skin and flawless hair and a credit score of 850.

It isn’t fair.

No it wasn’t, it definitely wasn’t fucking fair. Matt dropped you like a bad habit on fire and you got no reason as to why it even happened in the first place. He owed you something, whether it be the legitimate reason or a lie entirely, he owed you. You’d been together for years and he had just placed a gorgeous diamond on your left hand with a look in his eyes that read forever. What had happened to change everything?

***

December 24, 2020, Christmas Eve

“Merry Christmas, Apollo,” you waved a new dog toy in the air, “wherever the fuck you are, because you’re definitely not here.”

Twenty one days had passed since Matt ended your relationship and you still hadn’t had any contact with him. He was probably home in St. Louis now, but he’d been back to Calgary since you last had contact because of hockey. Three weeks alone in your ‘shared’ apartment and it sounded like it was just the first of many to come.

You missed him. You missed Apollo. You missed Matt. You missed your past and everything that came with it. Roadies were nothing compared to this. It had gotten pretty obvious that he wasn’t coming back, probably ever, and you needed to pick yourself up from the ground, dust off, and move on.

It didn’t feel right putting up the big tree that you and Matt usually decorated together while dancing around sipping wine and listening to Christmas music, but you couldn’t abandon the holiday entirely. The sparse, cheap two foot christmas tree you bought last minute and hastily decorated felt like enough that year.

Christmas wasn’t truly Christmas without a classic movie, and you were too focused on the television in front of you to hear a key turn in the lock.

“Hello?”

The sound of a man’s voice had you jumping off the couch and screaming louder than probably necessary.

“Whoa, whoa, sorry.”

He held his hands up in defense and it wasn’t until you realized who it was that you let your guard down and stopped yelling.

“Johnny, what the fuck are you doing here?! It’s Christmas eve!”

“I’m here to grab some stuff for Matt.”

“On Christmas eve? He’s probably not even in town.”

Johnny looked to the ground as he hovered in the doorway. It was the second time you guessed Matt wasn’t in Calgary and it felt like it was also the second time you were wrong.

“So he is in Calgary then? That’s surprising, he’s such a family man.”

Johnny winced at the tone of your words before breaking his silence and surging forward.

“I’m sorry,” he said into your hair as he pulled you into a tight hug, “I don’t know what the fuck he’s thinking right now.”

It felt good to finally get the tiniest bit of closure. Johnny wasn’t Matt but maybe he could offer some kind of explanation, you’d take anything at that point.

“Why are you here, Johnny? Why isn’t he? Why hasn’t he come home yet? What is going on? What did I do?”

Word vomit fell past your lips faster than you could stop it but it was the first, tiniest bit of line Matt was throwing for you and you were definitely taking the bait.

“I can’t answer most of that, but I can tell you that he’s been staying with us and that Apollo is good, really good. He’s such a happy dog.”

“I know, it’s like he takes after his parents, oh wait..”

“Shit, I'm sorry. This is weird and I don’t like it. Matt’s staying at mine though, and he’s fine.”

“Of course he is. Is he ‘new girl fine’ though?”

“I’m not supposed to be on your side, but yeah, he’s that level of fine.”

“Holy fuck.”

Holy fuck. You collapsed into yourself and began to sob while Johnny broke your fall and helped you to the ground, holding you while you sobbed into his jacket. If Matthew was already with someone else, there was no way they weren’t communicating when he asked you to marry him. There was no way he wasn’t emotionally, and maybe physically, cheating on you.

“How long?”

He shrugged his shoulders and pulled you closer, “longer than you want to hear. I know you don’t want to hear any of this but I'm tired of lying for him. He shouldn’t have proposed to you.”

If you didn’t want to disappear into a black hole before, you definitely did now. What was the point anymore? The man you trusted and loved and planned to spend the rest of your life with had been fucking around on you and lying about it. You weren’t sure how long you sat on the floor and cried to one of Matt’s closest friends and teammates but when you finally started to get it together, you asked the real question.

“Why are you here, Johnny? It’s Christmas eve, you should be home with your wife. What did he send you to get?”

“The ring. The better question is for you though, why are you still wearing it?”

“I don’t know,” the diamond sparkled on your finger, “I guess I was hoping for the best.”

The ring Matt had picked out for you was beautiful, more beautiful than you could have imagined but it felt fake and cheap now, almost like it was given to you based on a total lie.

You weren’t going to give in so easily. If Matt wanted his precious ring back, he would have to man up and come get it himself. He wasn’t going to get away with sending someone else to do his dirty work and ride off into the sunset with his new girl.

“If he wants it, he knows where it is. He can come get it himself, he knows where I live. Once upon a time, he used to live here too. Will you remind him of that?”

You and Johnny spoke for a little while longer before exchanging goodbyes. He went without the ring and you were left alone wondering who the fuck Matt had left you for.

Do not ask other people to get their hands dirty just so you can keep yours clean, Matthew. It’s all for nothing because they were never clean anyway, you fucking cheater.

You had no idea whether or not Matt had blocked your number, but you were so pissed off and hurt that you didn’t care. He had no problem leaving you in the rearview mirror so you matched his energy, deciding to call him out on his bullshit.

***

December 25, 2020, Christmas

It would’ve been easy to go home to your parents, who happened to live only twenty minutes away, and spend the holiday with them but you weren’t exactly up to it. Johnny’s surprise visit and the news he shared broke your heart even more than you already thought was possible.

Matt didn’t respond to your text, but it was delivered and read a few hours later, so he at least acknowledged it. How nice of him to not block your number, what a kind soul.

Determined to keep wallowing in your own pity, you googled ‘sad christmas movies without a happy ending’ and started with the one people thought was the most miserable and started working your way down the list.

At about 9pm, your phone rang and when you saw who was calling, your breath caught in your throat.

Chantal Tkachuk.

Other than Johnny, who was kind of forced into it, no one in Matt’s life had reached out to you since before the break up. You were close to both Matt’s younger sister, Taryn, and Brady’s long term girlfriend but neither one of them made any attempt to see how you were doing. They were obviously Matt’s people before they were yours, so it made sense, but it still hurt a lot.

The Tkachuks had become a second family to you and not only had Matt ripped himself away from you, he also took them too.

“Hello?”

You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice and she definitely heard it.

“Oh, honey,” she instantly went into mom mode, “how are you?”

“I’ve been better,” you were openly crying now, once again.

“I know, and I'm so sorry. I really don’t know what happened.”

“Me neither, because everything was fine and we were engaged and the next thing I know, I’m waiting at the airport for someone that isn’t going to show up and i’m getting dumped through text message.”

Chantal was silent for a few moments and you could feel tension easing itself into the phone call. On one hand, you’d been like another daughter to her for several years now, but Matt was her oldest son and she was always going to take his side regardless of the situation.

“I don’t even know what to say right now, I'm just so sorry. Whatever he was thinking or going through, he shouldn’t have handled it the way he did. He shouldn’t have proposed if he wasn’t ready.”

It flew out of your mouth without a thought and you immediately regretted it, “you mean he shouldn’t have proposed if he was cheating?”

You weren’t talking to just anyone, you were talking to Matt’s fucking mother, stop speaking so candidly, “oh my god, Chantal, i’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“I can’t exactly be mad at you for it, I don’t know for sure if that was what was happening but based on the timeline of events, assumptions can be made.”

That was the most you were going to get out of her and you knew it. She was wording her thoughts delicately to avoid using ‘cheating’ and her precious son in the same sentence. It shouldn’t have, but like everything else that was fucking happening, it hurt.

“I still shouldn’t have said it, not to you. I’m sorry.”

The call got kind of awkward as she brushed off your apology and began asking you about your life and how you’ve been, like her son hadn’t ruined your fucking life.

Did you have a good holiday? No. Do you have any fun plans for New Years? No. How has work been? I’ve been calling off a lot because I'm constantly having a breakdown.

“I know things are tense and weird right now, but I’m still here. You can always reach out to me if you need anything at all.”

It wasn’t true, but you thanked her anyway. You knew this was probably the last contact you’d have with Chantal Tkachuk. The word goodbye felt heavy on your tongue but you said it anyway and ended the call.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered into your once happy, now empty apartment.

***

December 31, 2020, New Year’s Eve

“I’m glad you’re coming out with me tonight.”

“I don’t know why I am, you gave my dog away.”

“Shut up,” Avery gently punched you in the shoulder, “i’d still have him now if I didn’t. Besides, it’s not like I threw him out on the street.”

“Yeah, I guess, I wonder how he likes his new mom.”

“Shut up, we’re not talking about Matthew tonight. Tonight is about you and moving on. Moping time and feeling sorry for yourself is over.”

“Does it have to be?”

“Yes.”

In the spirit of new beginnings, Avery chose a bar neither of you had ever been to. It was a little more high end than you expected but it was a nice change of pace. With the exception of work and running to the grocery store, you’d barely been out of your place in almost a month.

Avery made sure your glass was never empty as more of your friends joined the party and you mingled with them and strangers alike. You had to admit that it was nice to get out of your head and spend some time around people that actually care for you. You’d been spending so much time thinking about the one that didn’t that you’d been taking for granted the ones who did.

Midnight crept closer and you were pleasantly tipsy and enjoying yourself quite a bit.

It was nowhere near perfect but this evening, surrounded by your friends and drinks and excitement, was almost ok. It was the first time in a month you felt whole and even a little bit excited about what was to come in your future.

You decided you were going to start looking for a new place to live as soon as you woke up the next morning and a few of your friends were even coming over to help you start packing later in the day.

No one was openly saying it was time for you to move on, but they were hyping you up in such a way that it only felt right. Finally.

“Three minutes to midnight!”

Someone out of sight shouted and you froze, because you knew that voice and if Brady Tkachuk was here at this bar in Calgary that meant one thing.

Turning in the direction his voice had come from, your eyes desperately scanned the rooftop in search of him, hoping he would be with just his brother and teammates and that what you actually saw wasn’t real.

It was real though, it was too real and the sight of them together made your stomach hurt. You did your best not to think about what she might have looked like, but seeing her in the flesh had you spiralling. This girl, Matt’s new girl, the one he had completely abandoned you for, really didn’t look any different than you did. It was almost worse than her being your complete opposite. You couldn’t focus on her too long though, as usual, Matt’s presence alone commanded your attention.

You hadn’t seen him in such a long time. His curls had gotten longer and he had more facial hair and you hated how good he looked in the sleek black suit he was wearing. You’d never seen it before and it was another knife to your heart to realize that he’d gone out and bought new clothes instead of coming home to get his own.

“Let’s go downstairs, come on,” Avery had seen him too, “this is not going to happen.”

Throwing back the contents of your champagne flute, you thrust it into her hand, “of course it is. This was bound to happen right?”

The liquid courage running through your veins and stopping your brain from thinking rationally had taken control and you were marching over to Matt before anyone in your group could stop you.

“Well if it isn’t my roommate, so nice to see you’re back in Calgary. I’m glad you got home safe, where have you been staying? Because it’s definitely not been our apartment.”

The tone of your voice was sharp enough to cut glass but Brady was in front of you before you could get a reaction from Matt, “this is not the place. Please, go back to your friends.”

“I think I’ll stay here, actually.”

Stepping around Brady, you made eye contact with your ex for the first time since he left. He looked a lot less worried and a lot more smug than you’d hoped.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

The crowd around you began chanting the countdown to the new year but you stayed in place, refusing to be the one to break eye contact first.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

Avery was beside you now and begging, “come on please, let’s get out of here?”

“Four! Three!”

“He’s going to fucking kiss her in front of you,” Brady shouted over the chant, “listen to your friend, you don’t want to see!”

“Two! One!”

You won the battle, but not the war, because Brady was spot on. When Matt’s eyes left yours they met those of his new flame and their lips connected.

“Happy New Year!”

It probably should’ve hurt, like everything else he did in the last month, and maybe it would at some point, but anger had taken control at that point.

A bitter, hollow laugh crawled up your throat, “you’re such a dick, I can’t believe I’ve been wasting all this time moping over you.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been so hurt over a guy who broke up with me over a text message and was too much of a coward to face me that he just literally never came home. Nice suit by the way, you’ve got a closet full of them back at my apartment.”

While strangers around you were celebrating, no one in your bubble said a single word. So you kept going.

“I don’t have your ring on me,” you turned your attention on the girl attached to him briefly, “he proposed to me actually, but if I did I’d throw it off the side of this building. She’s above used merchandise. That’s why you wanted it back, right? So you could give it to someone else?”

Matt kept silent as you hurled accusations and insults at him but his face had fallen considerably and it wasn’t until a soft “can we please go?” came out of his new girlfriend’s mouth that you stopped.

You were done, completely and entirely, with Matthew Tkachuk.

“I’ll actually remove myself from the situation, let you lovers enjoy your night. Happy New Year, bud, take care, hope to see you never.”

You crowded into an Uber with Avery and a few others, everyone excitedly cheering you on for standing up to Matt. It felt good, better than you thought it would, and you didn’t even cry.

Your phone vibrated with a text message that you definitely didn’t expect.

Didn’t think you had that in you. Not mad at it though and definitely glad I got to see it. Take care of yourself, bud.

***

January 3, 2021

You knew he was coming, he’d finally reached out to you to let you know, but you were a ball of nerves anyway. The last time you saw Matt, you were screaming at him on a crowded rooftop bar while everyone around you celebrated the new year.

Your liquid courage carried you through that evening but you’d been sober since, so seeing him was going to be really fucking weird. Not just weird, seeing him was going to make you sad. As much as you didn’t want to be, you couldn’t help it. You weren’t over him yet.

“Come in,” you were quick to respond to his soft knock on the door, “you still live here, Matt, you don’t need an invitation.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll be quick, just here to get my stuff.”

“Cool.”

Cool? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, that’s how you respond?

You shook off your nerves but gave him space as he made his way into the bedroom and began to pull his clothes from your shared closet.

“We should probably go through this together,” he called out as soon as he entered the bathroom, “we shared a lot of bath stuff.”

“Sure, i’ll be in shortly.”

This was it. You’d said it plenty of times before but this was really, truly it. Your relationship with Matthew Tkachuk was coming to a close and the only thing left between the two of you was this apartment.

You slowly wandered into the bathroom and stood next to him while the two of you began to separate your bath products.

“Should I leave this body wash?”

“No, I know how much you like it, keep it.”

“You sure? I know you like it too.”

“I know where to order it from, but I'm pretty sure you don’t.”

“Shut up, it’s like, Lucky or something, right?”

“It’s Lush, Matty.”

“Yeah, Lush sounds right. So does that.”

“What?”

“Matty.”

“..What?”

“Matty sounds right. It sounds even better coming from you.”

Hold the fuck up.

There was no goddamn way he was going to try and appeal to you like the sad ex when he was the one who cheated! No fucking way!

“Yeah? That’s interesting, because ‘i love you’ sounds pretty good to me but you couldn’t honor that, right? Actually, instead of Matty, I should’ve called you a cheating, lying asshole.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what? Call you out? Make you accountable for your actions? Fuck you, Matt. Get your shit and get out. I don’t want to see you again.”

He listened, and he left. Goodbye, Matthew.

***

March 21, 2021

“Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“About Matt?”

“No, I'm not interested in anything to do with him.”

“You might like this.”

“I probably won’t.”

Your relationship with Matthew had been over for a long time and you were finally past him. There was no need to bring anything up from the past.

“His girl has been cheating on him, like the entire time they’ve been together.”

“I told you I didn't care. I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about him.”

“Sorry,” she scrambled for the right words, “I'm sorry. I didn’t know. Don’t fire me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, get back to work though, the Palmer wedding isn’t going to plan itself.”

“On it, boss!”

You chuckled to yourself, Matt had never been the one to prove himself to be a decent human. As much as you didn’t want to hear any update on his life, you couldn’t deny the minuscule amount of pleasure you felt when you heard he cheated.

Since your breakup with Matt, you boarded the success train and rode to the top. You were a single, small event planner when you first got together, but now you owned a company with your name on it and had a slew of employees.

There was nowhere but up for you to go and you couldn’t have been happier.

“We had a cancellation, it was a big one.”

“Oh? What was the last name?”

“Tkachuk?”

“What was the first name?”

“The groom’s name was Matthew. He was the one who cancelled. A bunch of emails from the disgruntled bride have come in since.”

No. No. No fucking way. This was the last thing you needed.

“What did the emails say?”

“They were mostly complaining about you. Which is really weird because how could you possibly know the groom?”

“No idea,” you lied, “I'll handle it though.”

--

Part Two coming soon!

[spine-buster]

Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸𝑒

CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. T͟h͟i͟s͟ ͟c͟h͟a͟p͟t͟e͟r͟ ͟s͟p͟e͟c͟i͟f͟i͟c͟a͟l͟l͟y͟ ͟h͟a͟s͟ ͟m͟e͟n͟t͟i͟o͟n͟s͟ ͟a͟n͟d͟ ͟d͟e͟a͟l͟s͟ ͟w͟i͟t͟h͟ ͟m͟i͟s͟c͟a͟r͟r͟i͟a͟g͟e͟ ͟a͟n͟d͟ ͟s͟e͟x͟u͟a͟l͟ ͟a͟s͟s͟a͟u͟l͟t͟.͟  Please be warned.

Word Count: 14,637

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A/N:  “Courage” officially broke my record for most notes on a debut chapter, so thank you all so much for all your likes and reblogs!  This chapter is more serious in parts, but we get to see an evolving Effie and an evoling Effie/Matthew dynamic.  Enjoy!

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Effie.  Her name was Effie.  And everybody knew it.  

Rachel was no more.  Rachel was a thing of the past and she was going to stay there.  Rachel was a person who had been hurt and abused.  Rachel was named by an abusive, violent, cruel, despicable tyrant who called himself Abraham and proclaimed he was a prophet.  Rachel was a girl with no voice, no agency, nothing to call her own.  Rachel was a girl who belonged to someone.

Effie was new.  Effie was her chosen name and a thing of the future.  Effie was a person learning to come to terms with her trauma after years of hurt and abuse.  Effie was name by herself, for herself, to reclaim her identity after years of it being denied to her.  Effie was a girl with a voice, agency, and even though she could only count a few things as her own, they were just that – her own.  Effie was a girl who belonged to nobody but herself.  

That was how she liked it.  

Naming herself instilled a new sense of confidence within her.  It was small, and it was gradual, but the people around her could notice it.  Matthew knew he could.  She was more assertive…in her own way.  She didn’t ask “Can I ask you a question?” before asking questions anymore.  She just asked.  She was proud of her learning and was getting used to showing it off.  Her independence increased.  She’d walk to Starbucks to get her strawberry frappucinos instead of having Jenna drive her.  She engaged in more conversation.  She made jokes.  She laughed at jokes.  She went grocery shopping with Jenna and said “I want to buy corn dogs” so she and Jenna bought corn dogs and they had them for dinner one night.  She went to Levi and said “I want to get a phone so I can text Annica” and so he gave her an old iPhone he had in the house.  She asked Annica more about makeup, even though she was still a bit apprehensive about using it.  She asked Geneviève about words she’d read and wanted to know more about.  Feminism (that was the best word she learned, Effie thought.  She was a feminist).  Socialism.  Communism.  Democracy.  Geneviève explained them all to her.  She asked Geneviève about pants.

She wore pants.

It was weird at first, wearing pants.  She’d only ever worn skirts and dresses, even in the privacy of her own home when she was in the cult.  The prophet demanded it; women were not allowed to wear pants.  So when Jenna encouraged her to try on an old pair of jeans that she had, Effie did.  They were big – Effie was still, well, small, and gaining weight every day – but Effie liked them.  “Can I buy a pair of jeans?” she asked Jenna.  Jenna promised to take her shopping at the mall on the weekend.  It would be Effie’s first time in a mall. 

Effie wanted to be fearless, but there was still a lot of fear in her.  Everything was so new, and so big, and sometimes so complicated, and she wished things were easier but she knew they couldn’t be.  But instead of before, when she would let the fear overcome her, she embraced it instead.  She worked through it.  She did things in spite of the fear.  She did things because she didn’t want the fear in her anymore.

That’s why she found herself walking now.  Walking to Starbucks.  Well, not to Starbucks exactly, but to the complex that held the Starbucks and a bunch of other stores.  Effie had noticed one particular one a few storefronts down and had taken mental note of it for when she was ready for it.  And now, walking with purpose through Aspen Woods, clutching something very important in the pocket of her jacket, she was ready.  

“Chop it all off.”

“What?!” the hairdresser shrieked as she looked at Effie through the mirror, after putting a robe around her and running her hands through her long blonde hair.  “But your hair!  It’s healthy and it’s long and luscious and—and it would be a disservice if I chopped it all off!”

“Please.  I need you to cut it.  I need you to—”

“This is the greatest head of hair I’ve ever seen—”

“You don’t understand,” Effie interrupted.  “I escaped a cult.  I escaped The People’s Dominion of Christ.  This hair was never mine; it was always someone else’s.  I need you to cut it off so that it’s mine, so that something on my body is mine for once in my life.”

The hairdresser looked at Effie through the mirror, blinking a few times as she realized what Effie was saying.  Without saying another word, she reached over to her station and grabbed her scissors.  “How much do you want off?” she asked.

Effie unfolded the picture from one of Jenna’s old magazines that she had crumpled in her hand, showing the stylist.  “Like this,” she said.  “I don’t even want it touching my shoulders.”

The hairdresser nodded, placing the picture face up at her station so Effie could look at it as the hairdresser did her magic.  She took one last look at it before tying an elastic loosely around the hair.  “Ready?” she asked, gripping it.

Effie nodded firmly.  “Ready.”

***

Effie had six numbers stored on her phone.  Levi.  Jenna.  Annica.  Geneviève.  Jacob Markstrom.  Matthew Tkachuk.  

“Hello?” he asked as he picked up his phone.  

His voice was a welcome sound to Effie, who was nervous but excited as she looked at herself in the mirror.  “Matthew?  I’m—I’m sorry to bother you, but can you come pick me up?”

“I—yeah—is everything okay?” his voice sounded immediately worried.  “Where are you?”

Effie didn’t even know.  She covered the receiver with her hand and turned towards the hairstylist.  “What’s the address?”

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13.”

“225 Mercer Street, Unit 13,” she repeated into the phone.

Matthew was officially confused.  “The Starbucks complex?”

“Yes…but a few stores down,” Effie informed him.

“I’ll be there in like, five minutes.”

***

Matthew was nervous.  Effie hadn’t sounded nervous on the phone, but he was still nervous.  It was out of the ordinary for her to call him to pick her up from anywhere, let alone from a place where she knew how to get home from now that she took the initiative to walk most places she wanted to go.  It wasn’t like he was going to deny her – he was speeding through the streets, if he was being completely honest – but the thoughts in his mind were running a mile a minute, and he had no clue what to expect.  

When he pulled into the complex, he searched for unit 13 and parked right in front of it.  It was only when he turned off his car that he actually saw the name of the store he’d parked in front of.  Abigail’s Hair Salon.

Matthew walked in.

He stopped dead in his tracks.  In front of him, Effie stood sheepishly, her long, flowing blonde hair chopped off almost completely, and in its place, a chic blonde bob, perfectly styled and perfectly her.  She had a t-shirt, baggy skinny jeans, and old Doc Martens on – no doubt all borrowed from Jenna – and she looked like a vision.  He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face.  “Effie,” he said her name bashfully, breathlessly, because it was so much to take in and she just looked so…cute.  

“Does it look nice?” she asked, patting it down at the sides.  

“It looks great, Effie,” Matthew said, and she could tell he meant it sincerely.  He bit his bottom lip before continuing his line of questioning, even though all he wanted to do was look at her.  “You wanted it this short?”

Effie nodded her head.  

“It suits you,” he nodded.  “Did you pay?”  Effie nodded her head.  “Did you tip?”

Effie looked scared for a moment.  “Tip?”

Matthew automatically took out his wallet and pulled a $50 from inside, giving it to the hairstylist.  He turned to Effie without another word.  “Wanna grab some lunch?”

“You—you’re not busy?  I thought you would just drive me home.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” he said casually, like it was no big deal.  “Grab your jacket.  What do you feel like eating?”

***

Matthew watched Effie for most of the meal, if he was being honest.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her regardless of how hard he tried.  But he kept any emotions or any feelings at bay, kicking himself for anything he was feeling that was…questionable.  He didn’t want to be that guy.  He didn’t want to make things more complicated for her when she was already learning so much, when the world was already a complicated place for her and she was trying to find her place in it.  

“What team does your brother play for?” Effie asked, picking at her plate left with all her fries.  She ate her bacon cheeseburger first and devoured it in less than ten minutes.  For Matthew, it was impressive.  He knew she was trying to gain weight.  He shuddered to think what she looked like a year ago.  

“The Ottawa Senators,” he replied.

“In the capital city,” she said, and Matthew nodded his head.  “You must be very thankful that he’s in Canada with you.  What about your sister?”

“She plays field hockey at the University of Virginia.”

Matthew watched as Effie furrowed her brows.  “She can play sports and go to university?  That’s a thing?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Matthew smiled, chuckling slightly.  “She’s a great field hockey player.  She committed to the school when she was a junior – when she was sixteen – and now she’s finally on campus.  She’s going to school too, obviously.  That’s the most important thing.  But she’s also playing Division 1 field hockey.”

Effie nodded her head, considering all the things Matthew had just said.  Women could go to university – she knew that now thanks to Jenna and Geneviève.  But…women could play sports and go to university?  Women could play sports for their university?  That was new information.  Effie thought about girls playing hockey and whether or not they could do the same thing.  She thought to Levi watching Toronto Raptors games at home and wondering if women could do the same thing with basketball.  She had not been allowed to play sports.  Anything more than running, women were not allowed to do.  Taryn had been sixteen and had committed to play field hockey for a university.  When Effie was sixteen, she was definitely not doing that.  “Your sister is very lucky,” she said softly.  “To be able to do that.  She’s very lucky.”

Matthew knew there was weight behind those words.  They weren’t to be taken lightly.  He could only imagine what Effie was up to when she was sixteen years old as opposed to Taryn.  “She knows,” Matthew said.  “Taryn’s a really smart girl.  She knows she’s really lucky.”

“It’s kind of nice how in the normal world, women can go to university, and get an education, and play sports, and do whatever they want, and wait to have their children,” Effie said.

Matthew shrugged.  “If they even want kids at all.  I know some of my friends back home don’t want them.  Nobody says women have to have them,” he said it like a throwaway comment, looking down at his plate to grab a fry and dip it in some ketchup.

Silence.  Pure silence from Effie.  He stuck his fry in his mouth and noticed how quiet it got and he looked up with half the fry in his mouth and half the fry still between his fingers, like a dumbass, only to see Effie staring at him with a blank look on her face.  When he looked closer, he saw her eyes were glossy.  He gulped.  “Wh…What do you mean that women don’t have to have children?” she asked.

Matthew chose his words carefully.  He should have known.  He should have fucking known, but he just had to go open his big mouth.  Now, he realized the words he was about to say would change Effie’s perception of things dramatically.  The last thing he intended was for the conversation to swerve in a direction like this, but they were here now, and he had to live with it.  Own up to his actions.  Be the person he promised himself he would be around her.  “So, like…women in modern society have the choice.  They can choose not to have children.  Some women don’t want to become mothers.  It’s a personal choice.  And nowadays, women don’t feel as pressured to have families.  Like, maybe they want to pursue a career instead, but it’s not even that.  You can just…not want children.”

Effie had heard the word of God her entire life.  It was the first thing she remembered; it was her earliest memory.  Some days – on bad days – it was her only memory, the thing that haunted her most at night, and she’d toss and turn in her bed to try and get the rolls and rolls of scripture out of her head.  Be fruitful and multiply.  Be fruitful and multiply.  Be fruitful and multiply.  But this – what Matthew was telling her – this was not the word of God.  This was something else.  This went against everything she knew.  This went against everything she was brought up to believe.  “Oh, okay,” she whispered.  

Matthew could tell he had just said something to Effie that rocked her foundation.  And then he thought to himself ‘Of course this would be happening.  Everything is new for her.’   The modern world was completely alien to her.  She didn’t know anything.  No women’s liberation.  No women’s rights.  No individuality.  Voting.  Elections.  Doctors.  Hospitals.  Jeans.  T-shirts.  Wearing her hair however she wanted.  Makeup.  Cell phones.  Instagram.  Twitter.  Snapchat.  Hockey – literally the most unimportant thing at this point.  She was learning, and making great progress, but things like this – these big ideas – still shook her to her core.  They went against everything she knew and everything she was brought up to believe.  It wasn’t easy for any person to have their foundation cracked; Matthew knew it would be even harder for her.

“Can you excuse me for a second?” Effie said suddenly, not bothering to hear an answer from Matthew before she pushed her chair back and stood up from the table, escaping back into the restaurant.  

Matthew felt like there was cement in his feet as he replayed the moment over and over in his mind, the sight of Effie’s glossy eyes realizing children were optional in the real world burning itself into his mind forever.  God, to find out this way – over bacon cheeseburgers at some restaurant and not in a safe space where she felt comfortable.  To have it be him, a man, that told her this instead of someone like Jenna, or Geneviève, who had been teaching her everything.  He was an idiot.  He was such an idiot.

A jolt of electricity struck through his body and finally jolted him out of his seat, his legs making him run towards the back of the restaurant near the washrooms where he knew Effie went.  “Effie?  Effie?” he called out as he opened the door to the women’s washroom.

When he stepped inside, he saw Effie huddled in a heap on the floor, her knees to her chest as tears flowed down her face.  Her skin was red and blotchy and he could see her chest heaving up and down.  “Effie—” he bent down to be at eye level with her.

“I need you to take me home.”

“Effie—” he reached out to touch her.

The second – the millisecond, the nanosecond – that Effie felt his touch for the first time, her entire body flinched so violently away from him that it scared him.  Matthew recoiled his hand quickly as his breath caught in his throat.  “I’m sorry—I’msosorry—I’m so sorry—” he stuttered out.  

She was silent as she looked at him for a moment through her tears.  There was a look of pure fear in her eyes that Matthew hadn’t seen before, not even the first time he met her at Noah’s birthday at the steakhouse.  “What if women can’t have children?” she asked, her voice so small and frail that it broke Matthew’s heart.

He struggled to find the words because it was such a simple concept for him but such a complicated one for her.  “That’s…that’s not their fault,” he said calmly, but the tone of obviousness was still apparent.  

“What do you mean it’s not their fault?” Effie’s tone was incredulous, like a seven-year-old child learning prematurely that there was no Santa Claus.

“It’s not their fault, Effie,” he reiterated, not knowing how else to explain it.  “I…it’s not their fault.  It can be a medical thing.  I mean most of the time it is, if they can’t have children.  And it’s not their fault,” he just kept repeating it.

“What if…what if women don’t want to have children, but can?  Are…are they punished?” she asked.

“Why would they be punished?  No,” he shook his head.

“Matthew…” she was apprehensive.  “Are you telling the truth?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Effie,” he said softly, wanting so desperately to just reach out and touch her, hug her, but knowing that if he did, he’d just inflict more fear in her.  “I know it’s not what you’re used to, but it’s the truth.  Some women can’t have children, and some of them don’t want children, and both of those things are perfectly okay.”  He watched as the tears streamed down her face as she stared him in the eye.  Shaking.  

Then it finally hit him like a ton of bricks.  

“Effie…” he said uneasily.

“There were seven.”

The words hung in the air for an unknown amount of time.  It could have been years for all Matthew knew.  But as he stared into Effie’s eyes, he felt an incredible pain in his heart; a pain reserved only for her, that only she could give him.  He thought of how she kept all her own pain inside her constantly, how the trauma was a part of her just as her hair, her fingers, her toes were.  She carried this with her every single day.  Every.  Single.  Day.

“It’s not your fault, Effie,” he whispered.  He knew better than to try to reach out and touch her again.  So he settled on words, because words were his best option.  “It’s not your fault.”

***

“Did you really think you’d be able to come to a therapist’s office and think you’d be able to discuss a patient?”

Matthew stared at Dr. Jessica Barlow sitting across from him – her seated on her plush chair, him sitting on the couch he was sure all her patients sat on – and he didn’t really appreciate her tone of voice.  So maybe it wasn’t the most flawless plan.  Maybe there were holes.  But he was there, damnit, and there for a good reason.  The best reason.  She was the best psychotherapist that specialized in cults in Alberta – probably in western Canada, judging by how many degrees and certificates and awards she had displayed in her office.  She was the best and most qualified person to help Effie, surely, which is why Effie met with her three times a week.  That meant she was also the best and most qualified person to help Matthew.

“Maybe,” he mumbled out.  Matthew would have been intimidated, but for some reason, he wasn’t.  Even considering they were alone in her office, even considering he’d never met or been to a therapist before, he wasn’t nervous or intimidated.  He was determined.  “I need you tell me what I need to do.  Tell me.  Tell me and I’ll do it.”

“For who?”

“Effie Schaffer.”

Dr. Barlow looked incredulous, like a mix between seeing a ghost and not believing the words that were coming out of Matthew’s mouth.  But then he watched as her face softened slightly, and turn inquisitive instead of suspicious.  “You’re Matthew,” she said, framing it as a statement more than a question.

He knew what that meant.  “Effie’s told you about me?” he asked.

It was a lost cause – he knew that the second the question left his lips, because he knew Dr. Barlow wouldn’t tell him a word.  Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that.  If dentists couldn’t even talk about their patients, there was no way in hell a psychotherapist who worked with cult survivors would say a peep about anything.  “Effie’s opened up to you quite a bit, hasn’t she?”

Matthew leaned in.  “Yes.  That’s why I need you to help me.  I want – I need to know how to help her.”

“Matthew,” Dr. Barlow took off her glasses.  “First you need to tell me why you want to do this,” she said matter-of-factly.  

Matthew didn’t want this to become a session.  It wasn’t about him; it was about Effie.  “I’ve just become her friend, and I’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately, and—and I just want to know what I can do to help her get even better.”

“Because you’re her friend.”

“Yes.”

“Because you care about her.”

“Well, yes.  I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about her in any capacity.”

Dr. Barlow paused.  “It’s not that simple, Mr. Tkachuk—”

“Why not?” he asked, interrupting her.  “She’s leaps and bounds better than when she escaped!  At least according to her brother!” he defended himself.  “Listen, I know it hasn’t been a long time that I’ve known her but I – damnit, I can help her.  I can help her but I don’t want to hurt her – I never want that to happen ever again, even if it’s by accident, and you need to tell me.  You need to tell me how I can do that so I can actually do it.”

Dr. Barlow stayed silent.  “You’ve already been incredibly patient with her,” she chose her words wisely.  Matthew could read between the lines.  So maybe Effie spoke about him more than he initially thought.  “We should just leave it at that.  I appreciate the effort, but—"

“She told me how there were seven,” he said, his voice steady and calm but firm and resolute.  When he looked up at Dr. Barlow, she was staring back at him with a stoic yet shocked look on her face.  “She told me there were seven, and when I tried to—to console her, to touch her, the way her body jumped away from mine…I…” he trailed off.  He rubbed his fingers against his lips nervously.

“So then you know and realize that Effie was a member of a religious cult where she was routinely raped by its leader so he could impregnate her with the son of God for almost five years.”

It was the first time the word had been said out loud.  He didn’t want to repeat it.  He wanted it burned from his memory, from Effie’s memory, from the dictionary, everywhere.  He knew it happened but he didn’t want to admit it to himself.  Saying the word out loud made it different; it made it real.  It made him acutely aware of the trauma Effie had been through, and how she didn’t deserve any of it, yet she was burdened with it for the rest of her life.  He was biting down on his bottom lip so hard he thought he’d draw blood.  “Yes,” he said curtly.  “I realize.”

“I know how close – relatively – you and Effie have gotten ever since you were introduced.  Her progress has increased dramatically since it,” Dr. Barlow began, again choosing her words wisely.  “I know everything you two talk about on your Starbucks dates.  I know you introduced her to candy and watched Little Women with her.  Matthew – I’m not telling you this because I’m making some point that Effie tattles and tells me everything about her relationship with you.  I’m telling you this because you’ve already been doing what you need to do.  You didn’t need to come here and ask me for specifics.”

“But I don’t want to hurt her,” Matthew said, his voice barely above a whisper.  “What happened that day when she told me and when—when I tried to touch her…”

“It might take a while for her body not to seize up anytime a man touches her,” Dr. Barlow said.  “That doesn’t mean she’s not making progress.  It’s the mental progress we want to see.  And it doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong, either.  Just give her time, Matthew.  Exercise patience with her.”

***

The next time Matthew saw Effie, she didn’t know he was coming.  But he called Levi and made sure it was okay, and so when he descended down the stairs into the basement and saw Effie’s bedroom door opened, he took a deep breath.  He collected himself.  And he moved forward.  He knew he didn’t have to do this – any outsider would have said that – but he knew he needed to do it.  He needed to make it right.

“Effie?” he knocked lightly on her door before stepping into the door frame, finding her sitting at her desk reading something.  

She turned her head to look at him and a smile appeared on her face.  It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders to see her smiling.  He didn’t exactly think she’d be cradled in a corner crying, but he did think that maybe she wouldn’t be happy to see him.  It was a relief.  “Hi Matthew.”

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“Of course,” she nodded, pushing her desk chair out as he walked in slowly.  “How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been okay…” he said, biting down on his bottom lip nervously.  “How—I mean, have you been okay since that day?”

He saw something flash behind her eyes – a memory of the tears, the feeling, the questions.  He knew he relived it every other minute since it happened because he felt so guilty about it.  He wondered if Effie relived it every moment too and whether or not it brought her constant pain.  Matthew would never forgive himself if it did.  “I’ve been good.  Learned a lot, as you can imagine,” she joked slightly.  “I read up on what we talked about.  Geneviève helped me.”

“So you know it’s a thing now.”

Effie nodded.  “It made me realize I never want children.”

Matthew should have been shocked by that statement, but he wasn’t.  Knowing what Effie had been through, he understood why she wouldn’t want them.  It was her choice to make and hers only, and nobody could or should influence her otherwise.  “That’s good.  Good that you can…you know, say that out loud.  That you’re not forced into something you don’t want anymore.”

Effie nodded her head.  “I knew it all along.  I mean, children are a blessing, but they’re not for me.  And knowing the way I was brought up, with abuse and no loving parenting from my parents or from anyone around me, I don’t want to pass that legacy on.  I’m too scared to fall back into that.  I’d have no idea how to raise a child.  I know that now,” she said, watching as Matthew walked further into the room and lean back slightly on her desk.  She looked up at him.  There was a moment of silence between them as they were just there, staring at each other in her bedroom.  Effie tried not to get lost in his blue eyes.  She wondered if he could see past her calm exterior.  “I’m sorry that I flinched away from you that day,” she said quietly.  

“I should be the one apologizing—”

“No,” she said as sternly as she could, getting him to stop.  “You don’t have to apologize for anything.  You didn’t hurt me that day, so don’t think you did.  I just…I get apprehensive about touch, because we weren’t allowed to, and because once I finally was, it wasn’t…nice,” she revealed, knowing he’d get the point.  “But I know that your touch is nice.”

“How do you know?” Matthew asked.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

She took it upon herself to look at his hands.  They were on either side of his body, gripping her desk just in case it collapsed under his weight or something – who knows.  But they were there, exposed, for her to look at.  They were big – bigger than Abraham’s – and younger, of course, rougher around the edges due to hockey but still better than the only other pair of hands she’d had experience with.

He caught her looking.  Slowly, almost painstakingly slowly, he brought his right hand up and opened it, palm facing her, fingers pointing up towards the sky.  He watched as Effie brought her hand up too, even slower than he had, opening it up and facing her palm towards his.  There were a few moments where she was stagnant, thinking about how this was the first time she was going to touch a man other than her predator fake husband or her brother.  Then she moved her hand closer.  Closer.  Closer.

When she finally touched Matthew – when she finally touched him – a million electric bolts ran through her body.  The feeling of his skin on hers, his delicate yet rough touch as she pressed her small hand into his large one so she could feel his entire hand on her hand – it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.  The simplest action gave her the most surreal feeling.  There were no words for it.  No words, in fact, because all she could do was smile.  A big, wide smile, spanning from ear to ear as she kept her hand against his.

Matthew smiled too.  

***

“This was a very quick progression from ‘Can women get tattoos?’ to ‘I’m getting a tattoo’, you know,” Geneviève laughed as she and Annica watched Effie take a seat in the tattooist’s chair.  The tattoo artist, a young woman with sleeves of her own, was preparing everything appropriately as the women chatted.  “The turnover rate was, what, a week?”

“Less,” Annica giggled.  

“When I went to the orthodontist’s when I was ten, I saw a man there with his entire arm covered in tattoos.  I was so scared I started crying.  I asked the prophet about it when I got back to Sheerness and he said they were marks of sinners and that the devil influenced them,” Effie laughed along with them.  “But I see them on people at Starbucks all the time.  I think they look really nice.”

“And you’re absolutely sure you want what you’ve requested?  You’re not gonna regret it, right?” Annica wanted to make sure Effie was making the right decision.

Effie nodded her head emphatically.  “Definitely.  Definitely.”

“What is it?  Can we see it?” Geneviève asked.  

Effie shook her head.  “I want it to be a surprise,” she said, biting her lip.  “You guys don’t think I’m crazy, do you?  Doing this to my body?”

“Absolutely not,” Geneviève replied automatically, her tone telling Effie that the notion was absurd.  It was nice for Effie to know that the two women in front of her would never judge her.  It was nice to know a woman could be supported in her decisions, and not be told it would make God angry and that she was sinning and going against the prophet.  “It’s your body, remember?  Your body, your choice.”

Effie nodded after a moment.  “My body, my choice.”

***

“It’s still a bit red and itchy.  Annica said I need to put an elastic around my wrist and snap it whenever I want to itch it,” Effie said, her voice filled with excitement but a certain anxiousness that was characteristic to her.  

“It’s alright.  Just show me,” Matthew smiled as he watched her roll up the sleeve of her cardigan.  When she finally did, and stretched out her arm, Matthew’s mouth gaped open.  “It’s huge!” he exclaimed, definitely not expecting it to be that big.  He thought Effie would get a dainty tattoo; something small.  He didn’t exactly think she’d have a “go big or go home” attitude about a tattoo – something on her body forever.  But it was big.  It took up at least two-thirds of her forearm.  The linework and shading were impeccable; the detail exquisite.  It was made up of flowers – he didn’t know what kind – but they were big and small, all sizes really, and there were a few leaves, a few stems, and it just looked so beautiful.  He brought his hand up to touch, but stopped himself.  “Can I?” he asked.

Effie nodded.  “You can touch me,” she said, preparing herself.

Matthew brought his hand up slowly.  He touched her arm, grazing his fingertips over the linework delicately.  It was still bumpy, a testament to how new it was.  “It looks amazing, Effie,” he whispered, his fingers still grazing delicately.  

“You haven’t even seen the best part yet.”

“The best part?” he arched his eyebrow.  What could be better than this?

She turned her arm over, palm facing up, where another large flower was tattooed on her skin.  Matthew noticed some handwriting along the flower, and he leaned his head down to read it.  ‘I am mine before I am anyone else’s’.

Matthew smiled from ear to ear.  “Effie,” he whispered bashfully, just like he had when he saw that she cut her hair short for the first time.  He was so bashful because he was so happy to be seeing her making her own decisions for once in her life.  “Do you love it?” he asked.

She nodded enthusiastically.  “I love it so much.  It’s mine.  It’s mine.”

***

“Did Jenna make these?” Matthew asked Levi once he was done with his stretches, noticing a giant Tupperware filled with some sort of cookies.  Matthew had seen some of the other guys in the locker room with them and decided to investigate.  He took a massive bite of one and his entire mouth watered.  In that short moment, he was sure he’d never had a cookie so good in his life.  “These are phenomenal,” he said with a full mouth.

“Nah, Jenna’s not a baker,” Levi shook his head.  “Effie made those.”

Matthew’s brows rose.  He gulped the bite of the cookie down.  “Effie?  Effie bakes?”

Levi smirked, side-eyeing him.  “Effie knows how to make and churn butter from scratch.  She had to learn in the cult.  She knows how to bake and cook a lot of things because she had to be a traditional wife.  But she enjoys baking the most.  Baking is what brings her the most joy, so she’s started baking again.”

Matthew nodded nonchalantly.  “She can bake all kinds of stuff then?”

“Bread, sweet stuff…yeah, pretty much,” he said.  “She actually…well, she’s trying to find a job where she can put it to good use, since she actually likes doing it.”

“Effie’s getting a job?!” Matthew exclaimed, louder than he intended.  Levi could only chuckle.  Matthew felt the need to cover.  “Where?  What—where?  What’s she gonna do?  How is she—I mean, why?”

“She’s gotta support herself, doesn’t she?  If she wants to move out, or earn her own money—”

“Effie’s moving out?!”

“She’s not moving out tomorrow, Matthew, but she’s going to be moving out soon.”

This was all news to Matthew, of course.  He tried to play it cool, calming himself down and not making a big deal out of it – well, more than he already had.  The fact that Levi, Jenna, and Effie were discussing jobs and moving out had absolutely nothing to do with him.  He was just on the outside.  He didn’t need to be part of the decision making at all…at all.  But he still got nervous.  Effie was still learning about a lot.  And ultimately, at the end of the day, he wanted her to be safe.  A safe job.  A safe apartment.  “Where’s she looking?”

“There’s a cute little hipster coffee shop in the downtown core she has an interview with,” Levi informed him.  “If she gets the job, and if she enrols in the online business certificate program Geneviève recommended to her, I promised to pay three months worth of rent until she can pay it on her own.  She’d earn enough from minimum wage and tips for sure, especially downtown.”

Hipster coffee shop.  Online business certificate.  New apartment.  There was so much new information coming at Matthew that he didn’t know how to process it all.  He was happy for Effie – he was – and he wished her only the best, but it was still a lot.  “Well…when you need help moving, call me and we could put these muscles to work,” he said, flexing his arm for dramatic effect, trying to hide the fact that he so obviously cared, and miserably failing to hide that fact to Levi.

Levi let out a haughty laugh.  “I’ll be sure to mention it.”

***

Matthew downed a shot of tequila – the good tequila – and smashed his shot glass down on the bar as the smooth liquid coated his throat and made his stomach burn.  Noah let out a loud ‘Wooooo!’ and Sean, ever the dumbass, choked on it as it went down.  Matthew almost spit up the shot out of laughter watching Sean struggle to swallow it, picking up his glass of whisky the bartender had just poured.  “You’re already wrecked, buddy,” Matthew chastised him as he got control of his coughs.  “You’re embarrassing.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sean sneered.  “We all know you’re trying to get all your alcohol in before Effie gets here.”

Matthew chuckled.  “Fat chance of that happening.  Effie’s not coming.”

Sean rolled his eyes.  “Well, either I’m high or you’re wrong, because she just walked in the door.”

Matthew’s back stiffened as he whipped his head around to look through the crowd of people.  Sure enough, he could see Effie raising her hand to chest level so the bouncer at the door could stamp her hand.  Noah made a noise that sounded like a seagull and Sean let out a chuckle and a muffled “Dude owes me a fucking drink for that one”.  Before Matthew’s legs could move him forward, he noticed Meredith approach Effie; she hugged her and Effie allowed Meredith to grab her hand so she could guide her through the crowd and into their spot at the back of the lounge.  The music was loud and the floor felt like it was vibrating but it was nothing compared to the beat of Matthew’s heart.

Fuck.

When Meredith and Effie finally made their way through, he saw that Effie was wearing Jenna’s ballet flats, skinny jeans that were still a bit big, and a sequined top that fit so big any other girls in the club would have probably worn it as a dress.  He could feel the whisky burning his stomach and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.

“Effiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee!!!!!” Claudia squealed once she noticed her, sauntering over to her in her high heels and bending down to hug her.  “You made it!  I’m sooooo happy!” she continued squealing.  Matthew wondered if Effie noticed that Claudia was already drunk.  “Is this your first time in a place like this?”

“Yeah,” Effie nodded her head nervously.  “I’m sorry—I—I know I wasn’t supposed to be here and I said no, but—”

“Are you kidding?  The more the merrier!  Let me take you to Andrew so you can say happy birthday!”

Matthew watched as Claudia led her to Andrew, tapping him on the shoulder to reveal Effie.  Andrew was happy to see her, and – knowing better than to go in for a hug – politely held his hand against his heart when she wished him a happy birthday.  None of the guys on the team had ever touched her – well, except Matthew.  He seemed to be the exception to a lot of things regarding Effie, and he was proud of that.  He didn’t want anyone else touching her, even if they were his teammates.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

“You came alone?” Andrew asked her.  Effie nodded.  “We’ll have to find you Matthew then.  He’d kill us if we didn’t tell him you were here.”

Matthew didn’t know what Andrew was saying – the music was too loud, and he couldn’t read lips – but the cement in his legs finally dissolved and he found himself walking over to them, wanting to make his presence known at that very moment.  When Effie saw him, he could swear her face lit up.  “Fancy seeing you here, Effie,” he smiled, holding his glass of whisky near his chest.

She went in for a hug.

Matthew was so shocked he almost didn’t hug her back.  Even Andrew was looking at them like he’d just seen a monkey perform a magic trick.  Matthew draped both arms around her and hugged her back, making sure not to spill his whisky all over her.  He tried not to let it seem like he was shocked – hugs should be a normal thing for Effie, he thought – so when she pulled away, he was already smiling down at her.  “What brought you here?”

“I wanted to see what these places are like,” she said when she pulled away.  She took a look down at his drink.  “Is that iced tea?”

“Whiskey.”

She looked around at everyone else, noticing they were all holding glasses with drinks in them too.  “Is everybody drinking alcohol?”

“Pretty much,” Matthew giggled out.

“I’ve never drunk alcohol before,” she revealed.

“Do you want to try some?”

“No,” she shook her head.  “I’m not ready.”

“That’s okay.  Do you want something to drink, then?  Some water?  I’m sure the bar can make you a virgin drink if you ask for it.”

“A virgin drink?”

“Virgin means no alcohol,” Matthew covered quickly.  “They’ll make you whatever you want.”

Matthew watched as Effie considered it, looking over to the bar before she shook her head.  “I’m not thirsty yet.  I’ll go when I’m thirsty.”

***

Effie didn’t dance.  She didn’t drink.  All she did was look.

By looking, she was learning.  She watched how people interacted with one another in this type of setting and she internalized it.  She watched girls approach the bar and get served by the bartender.  She watched as guys flirted with them and bought them drinks.  She watched people take shots and then ask for another.  She watched people get handsy, with touches on hips and lower backs and arms the most popular spots she saw men putting their hands on women.  She watched people drag one another towards the dance floor.  She watched kisses being placed on necks and shoulders and lips, tongues dragging across, shocked that people would be doing so out in the open.  She watched girls raise their drinks in the air and kick their leg up as they posed for photos with their friends.  She watched girls move their hips seductively.  She watched guys getting their bodies as close to them as possible.  

“What are they doing?” she asked Matthew as she watched them dancing like a hawk.

“Uh…it’s called grinding.”

She’d talk, and ask questions, and Matthew was beside her the entire time answering her questions and milking his whisky, not caring that he wasn’t partying with Andrew or with the other boys, because when Effie was around, he was all about Effie – nobody else mattered.  He’d stay with her until last call if she wanted to stay that late.  He’d already resolved that he’d be going home when she was going home because he needed to make sure she got back to Aspen Woods safe, and also because there was no reason to be at the club when Effie was gone.

Did he hear himself?  Did he really just say there was no reason to be at a club full of beautiful girls during his friend’s birthday?

Fuck.  

Noah, Sean, and Johnny ended up coming back to the booth for some water.  Johnny made eyes at Matthew and Matthew subtly gave him the finger; Effie didn’t notice because she was looking over at the bar.  “I’m thirsty.  I’m going to go get a drink.”

“Let me go for y—”

“No,” she said sternly as Matthew was about to get up, standing up herself and holding her hand out.  “I’ve watched.  I know what I need to do.  I can go.”

Matthew gulped.  He didn’t want to deny her independence but he didn’t want her to go alone. “Are you sure?” he asked.  She nodded, and Matthew had to let her go.  And all he did was look.

***

Effie approached the bar slowly, trying not to get shoved around by people crowding around the bar.  It was much busier actually being in the crowd than just looking at it, and Effie was almost regretting her decision.  She’s never been in a place with so many people.  Well, that was a lie, maybe – church was always busy, obviously, especially the church for the People’s Dominion.  Sundays were the worst.  But there were definitely not this many young people congregated in one place.  Effie knew this is what young people did in the normal world – Geneviève told her so.  It was one thing to know about it, to be apart from it in a different area and watch; it was something completely different, actually being in it.  

She made her way to right behind a few people at the bar – some scantily clad girls with some really pretty dresses on.  Effie admired their beauty.  They had beautiful long eyelashes and their lips were red and berry-coloured.  Their skin was flawless and tanned – weird for April in Calgary, but tanned nonetheless.  Effie wondered if they were wearing makeup, and wondered whether or not she’d ever wear makeup herself.  When they got their drinks, they began to move.  One of them noticed Effie behind them and gave her a quick up-down.  “Take our place, sweetie,” she said, letting Effie move into their place before she watched them make their way through the crowd and back onto the dance floor.

After watching, she knew now she had to get the attention of one of the bartenders.  Every single one of them was busy pouring drinks.  She watched as a couple of men on the opposite end of the bar raised their hands and the bartenders went over to them, so she decided to do the same.  After a few minutes, a bartender came.  “What can I get you?”

“Um, water please.”

“You driving tonight, darling?”

Effie shook her head.  “I don’t drive.  I just don’t drink alcohol.”

“Do you want anything more exciting?  I mean I can at least get you ginger ale or a coke.”

Effie didn’t like coke – she thought it was too sweet – but when he mentioned ginger ale, she reconsidered.  “Okay.  Ginger ale is good.”

The bartender nodded, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice before getting the drink gun.  “Do you have a tab going?”

What was a tab?  Effie shook her head.  “What’s a tab?”

The bartender looked at her skeptically.  “How are you paying, darling?  Are you with a party?”

“Oh!  I’m here for Andrew’s party!  Andrew Mangiapane.”

“Got it,” the bartender winked.  “Here you go, darling.  Enjoy.”

Effie grabbed the drink and took a sip out of the straw.  It was nice and cold, just the way she liked it.  Just as she was about to leave and go back to Matthew, a big body slipped into the empty space beside her.  A man – a very large man, it seemed, though she was so small that every man looked large to her – took up all the space.  He was looking down at her with a very, very amused expression on his face.  “Ginger ale, girl?” he mocked her.

Effie couldn’t tell.  “What’s wrong with ginger ale?”

“You’re gonna come out to a bar looking like a walking felon and order ginger ale?” he pressed, winking at her.

“A walking felon?” she repeating.  She didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said.  “A real drink.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Wanna start?”

“No,” she said firmly.

“That’s fine.  I can think of better things we can get up to than drinking, anyways,” he smiled.

Effie furrowed her brows.  “Like what?”

The guy smiled, and it was creepy, and she finally saw behind his eyes every thought and every intention he currently had.  “Let me show you,” he said, and Effie saw, out of the corner of her eye, that he was bringing his hand up to touch her.  At the same time, he was leaning his head down.

“HEY!” a loud voice boomed, and Effie immediately recognized it as Matthew’s.  Before she could even see him or realize where he was coming from, he squeezed his way in between him and the man.  Matthew’s hands were now on her body instead, the man’s hand nowhere near her.  “Get the fuck out of here, buddy.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You touch her one more time and you’re fucking dead,” Matthew growled.

“Dead, eh?  So you get to touch her but I don’t?”

“Fuck off.”

Effie was taken aback by the anger in Matthew’s voice.  She’d never seen or heard him so angry.  She knew he was capable of it, by how he played hockey, but she didn’t think he’d be able to get this angry in a social setting.  Her body tensed up.  “Can we go back to our booth?” Effie asked loudly, placing her hand on Matthew’s, hoping to get his attention.  

Matthew looked back at her quickly, and when he saw the trepidation on her face, he immediately listened to her.  As he turned to leave, pushing Effie ahead of him with his hands still on her waist guiding her, he heard the man make one last call out to Effie.  “You don’t want to have some fun, girl?  I can show you a better time than this dick with my dick!”

Matthew had had it.  He knew he couldn’t punch out a guy in a bar.  He knew he couldn’t do much without causing a scene and the cops getting called and everything getting out of hand.  So instead, he used everything at his disposal to make his point, the most important thing being his size.  He turned around and flexed, standing up straight and making himself as physically big as possible, bumping up against the guy on the chest and backing him up against the bar.  He had only a few inches on the guy, but he was suddenly intimidated.  “You even so much as breathe in her general direction and I won’t hesitate to knock your teeth down your throat,” Matthew growled, making fists with his hands.  He didn’t even wait for the guy to say anything.  Instead, he just turned and walked away, noticing Effie waiting for him in the crowd.

“Is everything okay?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” he said curtly, leading her out of the crowd and back to the booth.

“Are you sure, Matthew?”

“Positive,” he mumbled as they finally got to the booth.

Effie turned around to get a good look at him.  She knew he was lying because she could see how angry he was on his face.  She got nervous – really nervous.  “Matthew—”

“Did he touch you?  He didn’t touch you, did he?” Matthew demanded.  He needed the answer to be no so he could calm down.  

“Please don’t be mad at me.”

Everything in Matthew suddenly cleared.  All he saw – all he was able to see – was Effie’s face, and how nervous she was, and how she was looking up at him with a certain tenseness.  “Effie—no—I could never be mad at you.  I’m mad at that guy for being gross.”

He noticed Effie furrow her brows slightly.  “Was he trying to get me to have sex with him?”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know what he wanted.  But he was being gross and the second I saw him wedge his way into the bar I got up.”

Effie nodded.  “But you’re not mad at me, are you?” she asked again.

“Never, Effie.  Never.”

***

Annica had never been more flabbergasted or without words than when Effie asked her to explain what Instagram was.  Geneviève had to step in, giggling as she mixed together the baked feta pasta the girls were having for lunch.  “It’s supposed to be a platform for sharing pictures,” Geneviève explained.  “You know, like the book you’re reading, or where you’re going, if you go on vacation, or if you see something cool, or let’s say you go out to eat and you want to show what you’re eating…that sort of thing.”

“People want to know that stuff?” Effie asked innocently, causing the girls to giggle.  “People want to know that about me?”

“I’d love to follow you on Instagram.  I’d love to see how you see the world,” Geneviève said.  “It would be a breath of fresh air, to be honest.”

“How would it be a breath of fresh air if everybody is doing it?” Effie asked again.

“Everybody’s not doing it.  That’s the point,” Annica said.  “Instagram has transformed into this, like…God, I don’t even know what to call it.  It’s one big advertisement now.”

Effie considered what the girls were telling her.  She trusted them both, which is why she asked.  Annica talked about it a lot, and was on it a lot, which is why Effie became interested in it in the first place.  Geneviève was on it too, of course, running her own account and also having access to the account for her literary magazine Atomic (she’d given Effie a bunch of old copies to read through, and she was going to devour them right after she finished Geneviève’s book, which was technically a collection of essays).  For a girl who just wanted to be as normal as possible, it seemed to her like Instagram was the logical next step.  “Can…can you guys help me make a profile?”

“Of course,” Annica said as all three of them sat down at the table.  “We can do it after lunch.”

“I’m not your therapist, but you should use it to chronicle your journey and what you’re doing outside of the cult now,” Geneviève offered.  “That’s what I meant when I said I’d love to see how you see the world.  You can post all the things you’ve been baking recently, or the pretty things you see in Calgary when you’re out and about on one of your walks.”

The second that Geneviève mentioned ‘chronicle your journey’, it was like a switch went off in Effie’s brain.  She nodded her head.  “That’s what I’m gonna do.  Let’s make a profile after lunch.”

***

FOLLOW REQUEST: effieschaffer7

You have accepted effieschaffer7’s friend request.

Effie?????

Hi Matthew

U made an insta?

Is it okay if I follow you? Annica helped me

Yes of course it’s okay if u follow me

I am going to post my baking I think

That’s good! I will have to try some one day

When you get back from the road trip there will be something new.  Levi requested a lemon meringue pie and you can have some too if you want.

I’m gonna make sure Levi drives us home then

***

It was Effie who swung the door open excitedly.  Matthew was excited to try the lemon meringue pie, but apparently she was excited about something else.  Her eyes were as wide as the moon and as bright as the sun.  “I got the job!” she screamed.  

Levi dropped his bag as he screamed, catching her as she jumped from the doorway into his arms.  Matthew started cheering too and started clapping; it was only then that Effie even remembered he was standing there, but he really didn’t mind.  “Congratulations, Effie!” he smiled from ear to ear.  “Look at you go!”

She let go of her brother, but still held on to his arms.  “That means I can get the apartment!  That means I can pay for the tuition for the business program!  That means…I…I’m just so excited!”  She looked over at Matthew, seeing his smile, and did the unexpected.  

She hugged him.  She jumped into his arms just like she did with her brother and wrapped her arms around him tightly.  He reciprocated easily, wrapping his own arms around her too.  “That’s amazing, Effie!”

“I just—aaaahhhhheeeeeppppp!” she half yelled-half squealed, letting go of Matthew so they could get back inside.  April in Calgary was still cold.  Both Matthew and Levi set their bags down at the front door and walked straight to the kitchen, following Effie who was practically kicking her heels up.  “I can’t even speak!  I mean, this is—this is me getting to work!  I get to work!  I get to make my own living and make my own money!”

“You should be really proud of yourself,” Matthew said as he sat down on one of the kitchen stools.  “And you get to do something you like to do!  Not a lot of people get to say that.”

She nodded enthusiastically, opening the fridge.  “Here, try this,” she said, taking out the lemon meringue pie she had promised them.  “The owner of the coffee shop said I’m going to start with cookies and brownies and small stuff like that, and then maybe I can expand,” she said.

She cut the pie, plated it for her brother and Matthew, and handing them forks.  Matthew dug in automatically, shoving a giant piece in his mouth.  The second it hit his tongue, he groaned.  “Oh…oh Effie…” he said in between chews.  “This is gonna be dangerous.”

“Is it good?”

“You may need to bake me something every day, now, Effie.  Either that or I’m gonna come visit you every day.”

***

“Piiiiiiivvvooottttt!!!!!”

“If you say that one more time, I’m gonna kill you,” Matthew screamed at Sean holding the other end of the couch at the bottom of the stairs.  

“Piiiiiiiiivvv—”

“Monahan!”

“Is everything okay, boys?” Effie’s sweet voice asked from the top of the stairs, popping her head out of her brand new apartment.  

“We’re fine!” Matthew called out, not wanting her to worry.  “Monahan is just being a jackass!”

“Am not!”

They got the couch upstairs.  They got the bedframe upstairs.  They got the mattress upstairs.  In a little one-bedroom apartment above a storefront on 8th Avenue SW in downtown Calgary, Effie Schaffer was moving in.  Well, Effie was in her apartment unpacking boxes and organizing everything.  Levi, Matthew, Sean, and Jacob were helping move in her furniture.  She was going to thank them gracefully with another pie – this time, she’d experimented with a banana cream pie with salty bourbon caramel.  It was in the fridge waiting.  Each of them would get a nice big slice.

Geneviève came over for a bit, helping Effie with organizing the kitchen.  And Jenna dropped by after work, making sure everything was in order.  Jacob and his piece of pie left with Geneviève, and Levi and his piece of pie left once he knew everything was in order, and Sean and his piece of pie left after he and Matthew had finished putting the couch together.  Matthew hadn’t left with his piece of pie yet.  Matthew stayed.  

“This apartment is so great for you, Effie,” he said as he sat down on the couch, admittedly exhausted from all the hauling but despite that, still not wanting to leave.  There was so much to do and say and admire with Effie now that people weren’t around, and though he’d never admit it out loud to them, he always wanted to be alone with her.  It was different when he was alone with her.  With other people around, he couldn’t stare at her too long without being caught, or they couldn’t talk about things from their previous conversations that only they knew about.  With people gone, they could.  He’d stay until Effie told him to go home; if she would even tell him to go home.  He was unsure if she knew she could tell people to leave because she was tired or just wanted to be alone.

“Tomorrow Levi and I are going to go to the mall to get me a laptop for school,” she said, opening her fridge.  “My course starts in June.  It’s going to be really exciting.”

“That’s great,” he said, looking at her from the couch.  “It’s business, right?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically.  “Business administration.  Are you going to come try this pie or what?”

Matthew hauled his sore body off the couch and made his way towards the kitchen, standing next to Effie as she sliced a piece of the pie for him.  He reached over her head and grabbed two plates from the cupboard, setting them down.  Their bodies were close – purposely, he had to admit selfishly, on his part – so that every time she turned the pie and made a slice, her arm and elbow would touch him.  He watched as she carefully plated the slices.

Before she moved to grab the forks, she looked up at Matthew.  “Can I try something?” she asked timidly.

He furrowed his brows slightly.  “Of course.”

Effie hesitated, looking Matthew in the eye, wondering if she should really go through with what’s been on her mind since Andrew’s birthday party.  She resolved with herself to never let fear get in the way of her making a decision in her new life, especially now that she was free to make those decisions.  So she did it.  She did what she wanted to do.

Effie Schaffer stood on her tip-toes and kissed Matthew Tkachuk.  

It was light, chaste, and pure; no tongue, no longer than three seconds, and no warning.  But she kissed him.  With her eyes closed.  And for the first time in a long, long, long time, when she closed her eyes and kissed someone her body didn’t seize up.  When she closed her eyes and kissed him, she didn’t think of the other kisses she had to endure rather than enjoy.  When she closed her eyes and kissed him, she didn’t see Abraham.  Matthew’s lips were much softer; there was nothing about him like was like Abraham, not one atom on his body.  She liked it that way.  And the fact that she didn’t remember her past life when it happened made it all the better for her.

Matthew, for his part, was shocked.  Shocked that she, Effie Schaffer, who grew up abused in a cult and didn’t start wearing pants until just a few months ago, would do something so forward.  He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to happen, because he did, against all of his better judgement and the rational side of his brain telling him not to.  “Was that okay for you?” he asked softly.

Effie nodded.  “Of course it was.  I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think it would be okay for me.”

Matthew’s word vomit got the best of him.  “Do you think it—”

“Don’t talk to me like you’re my therapist please,” she said quickly.  “Talk to me like you’re a guy.”

“Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

Effie looked down, suddenly nervous.  She wasn’t second-guessing her decision to kiss him, but what she was doing now was wondering what Matthew thought of it.  He’d kissed her back.  He didn’t just stand there and take the kiss – he kissed her back.  He moved his lips too.  That meant something, right?  “Matthew?” she finally asked, her voice soft.

“Hmm?”

“Do you like me?” she asked.

“Of course I like you, Effie.”

“No, I mean do you…do you like me.  Like how boys like girls sometimes.”

Matthew looked her in the eye, his entire ego dropping to the pits of his stomach.  Having the completely inability to be able to lie to her, he gave her a quick nod of the head.  “Yeah, I do.”

Effie bit her bottom lip.  She didn’t know a lot, but she knew this was a huge moment.  But she swallowed hard, her thoughts getting the best of her.  “Even after everything that happened to me?”

Matthew’s heart broke.  It always did when he spoke with Effie.  “Of course,” he said simply.  “You’re not what happened to you.  You’re so much more than that, Effie.”

Effie nodded her head.  She knew that.  Dr. Barlow, Levi, Jenna, Geneviève – everyone important in her life had been telling her that.  She knew it was true, but she needed to hear the words from Matthew.  She couldn’t just assume them.  “I want to let you know that was the first time in my life that I’ve initiated…physical contact with a man,” she said quietly, her voice just above a whisper.  “I did it…I did it with you because I feel comfortable with you.  I wouldn’t have even thought about doing that a year ago but…but you’ve really helped me these past few months, and you make me feel so comfortable to try new things like corn dogs or kissing.  Even just…you know, touching.  I just want you to know that.”

Matthew nodded.  This was huge.  He was pretty sure he hadn’t let out a breath since her lips met his.  “I hope you always feel comfortable around me.”

“I think I will,” she said, smiling slightly.  

Matthew smiled.  “Well, in that case, can I kiss you again?”

“No.”

Matthew chuckled to himself.  Her deadpan delivery dissolved everything.  She was in total control.  “Fair enough.”

Effie moved to grab the forks from the drawer she was standing in front of.  Before she put them on the plates, she looked up at him again.  “But if I kissed you again, would you like it?”

Matthew nodded his head.  “Would you?”

Effie nodded her head.  

***

“What about this?” Matthew asked, pointing to a fake plant hanging from a little black pot.  “Everybody loves fake plants.”

Ikea had a lot of options – too many, if Effie was being honest.  But she nodded her head, and Matthew took the initiative to grab the plant and put it in the cart.  There were a bunch of frames already in there, and some decorative stuff for her new place.  “Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he looked down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

“I’ve got an Americano with room for milk for Matthew!” the barista called out, setting the drink down on the counter.  Matthew approached to grab his drink, bringing it to the other station where he was able to pour in his milk and two packs of brown sugar before popping the lid on.  He rejoined Effie.

“Does it feel like you’re cheating when I bring you to Starbucks?” he asked her in a light-hearted tone.

“Matthew?” she looked up at him.

“Hmm?” he was already looking down.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

“I think these are your best ones yet,” Matthew said through a mouth full of chocolate-dipped almond biscotti.  Effie was trying out recipes.  He was her unofficial-official taste-tester.  The whole team was, really.  And if they sold well in the coffee shop, the manager would allow her to expand.  So far, so good.  “I love the almond flavour.  It’s there but it’s not too strong, you know?”

He watched as Effie nodded her head.  “Matthew?” she asked, looking at him eye-to-eye since he was sitting down on one of the stools in her kitchen.

He knew what was coming.

She leaned forward and kissed him.  His lips tasted like almonds.

***

“Are you excited for the movie?” Matthew asked as he poured the popcorn from the steaming hot bag into the bowls Effie got for them.

“Very,” she nodded.  Tonight they’d be watching Emma, the 2020 movie version of Jane Austen’s classic.  Effie liked to see all the amazing clothes the women used to wear.  A part of her wanted to dress up like that now, but she knew she’d get stared at.  The other part of her never wanted to wear a dress again if she didn’t have to.  “Matthew?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he looked down at her.  He knew what was coming.

She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.

***

It was always when the two of them were alone.  It never happened when she would wait for him and Levi and Jacob with Jenna and Geneviève after games.  It never happened if they were ever out with a big group, or even just with Levi and Jenna.  Matthew was sure Effie had told them she was kissing him – she probably told Dr. Barlow too, now that he thought about it – but nobody had ever approached him about it.  “I heard you’ve been kissing Effie.”  

It was always the same, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  They were alone.  They were usually doing something mundane.  Then Effie would ask “Matthew?” in her soft, sweet voice.  He’d look down at her.  She’d go on her tip-toes, and she’d kiss him.

It was always initiated by her.  

***

“Can I take you out on a date?” Matthew asked one day when they were alone in her apartment.  

Effie looked shocked.  Surprised, even, though Matthew didn’t think the question was out of the ordinary.  “You…you want to go out on a date with me?” she asked.

“Yes, of course I do,” Matthew said, wanting there to be no doubts in her mind.  “You know that I like you, Effie.  I think it’s something that could be really fun for you…for us.”

Effie was deep in thought – Matthew could tell.  She nodded slightly.  “We have been doing a lot of kissing lately…” she mused.  He couldn’t help but smile, even though it faded slightly when she looked up at him nervously.  “Matthew, I—I’ve never been on a date before.”

“I figured as much.”

“I mean, I—even with Abraham.  He never—I mean, I was just told I was marrying him because he wanted me.  I told you that.  But even before that.  Women couldn’t date.  Nobody could—I mean most couples were just thrust together, but—but—women weren’t even allowed in the same room alone with the opposite sex because we’d tempt them.”

“I know Effie, it’s okay,” he said softly.  “Listen, if you’re scared or nervous or not ready, we don’t have to.  But you know that I like you.  And I know you like me too.  It’s what people do when they like each other.  So if you’ll let me, we could go out for dinner or something.  Nothing too big or fancy.  Just a dinner.”

If she went on a date with Matthew, Effie would be giving a giant middle finger to her past.  She would be asserting her agency in making her own choices.  She’d be doing something she wasn’t allowed to do for eighteen years of her life.  It was an action of justice at its very core – going on a date with a boy because she liked him and found him attractive.  She wasn’t even allowed to touch other men besides her husband less than two years ago because of his abusive and totalitarian “sermons”.  She remembered back to her begging to her mother not to get married at fourteen and her mother refusing to listen to her.  Here was Matthew saying “If you’re scared or nervous or not ready, we don’t have to.”  

Effie nodded her head.  “I want to go out on a date with you.”

Matthew smiled bashfully.  He was sure his cheeks were going to turn red like some sort of teenager.  “What kind of food d’you wanna eat?”

***

“How’d you get that shiner, buddy?” Sean asked.

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled.

***

“What the hell happened to you?” Johnny asked the moment he saw him in the locker room.

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled.

***

Mark Giordano was not happy to see one of his star players show up to the arena with a black eye.  But he didn’t want to confront Matthew in a full locker room, so he waited until there was only a few people around – and even then, they were far away enough that he knew they wouldn’t really pick up on the conversation.  “What the fuck happened to your eye?” Mark asked, approaching Matthew

“I’m not gonna talk about it,” Matthew mumbled, not even looking at his captain.

Mark furrowed his eyebrows.  There had to be something, a clue of some sort, to help him get to the bottom of this.  It was nobody’s birthday, so Matthew hadn’t gone out to a bar.  He didn’t get into a fight or scuffle on the ice that was too bad, so it couldn’t have been that either.  But then Mark remembered.  “I thought you spent time with Effie last ni—”

“I said I’m not gonna talk about it!” Matthew hissed as he got up abruptly, stomping away and leaving the room.

Mark took a deep breath in, putting his hands on his hips.  Kids.  He had to get to the bottom of this.  It was in his nature.  And as captain, he took his role seriously.  He needed to make sure his teammates were okay.  The media was definitely going to pick up on the black eye, and they’d need a good cover.  He left the locker room, following the path Matthew took, knowing he was probably letting off some steam in an empty trainer’s room.  Mark popped his head into two of them before finding Matthew in a third, facing away from the door and taping his stick.  Mark knew Matthew heard him walk in and shut the door behind him, but Matthew didn’t turn around.

“Sit,” Mark said sternly.

Matthew took a deep breath in but did as he was told.  He wasn’t going to defy Mark – he respected him way too much.  And he knew he had out let out the steam by telling someone, and Mark was probably the best person to tell.  

Mark sat down casually beside him, hunched over with his elbows on his knees so it looked like they were about to have a casual conversation, just in case anyone else barged in.  “Tell me what happened.”

Matthew took a deep breath.  “I took her out on a date last night.”

“Effie.”

“Yeah,” Matthew nodded slightly.  “And it was nice.  We went to a really nice Italian restaurant downtown.  She was having so much fun.  And she came back to my place and—”

“Please don’t tell me—”

“No no—it wasn’t—no,” he emphasized.  “I might be an idiot but I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“You can’t fault me for thinking it.”

Matthew shook his head.  “She came back to my place and I guess—well, I guess because the whole thing was so new for her, it was mentally exhausting.  She sorta kept saying how tired she was.  I told her she could stay over.  And it was fine.  We were just sleeping in the same bed.”

“And then?”

Matthew grumbled.  “And then I moved.”

There was a pause.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

***

“I’m so sorry,” Effie whispered through tears, looking at Matthew’s back as he sat on the edge of the bed, pressing a bag of frozen peas against his face.

The entire night had been lovely.  She’d felt so good, and so comfortable, and so normal.  The food was delicious.  The walk through the park was magical.  The thing’s they’d talked about ran through her mind the entire night.  They hadn’t stopped talking.  They’d gone back to his place.  She was tired.  He suggested she stay over, knowing Levi wouldn’t mind.  She agreed.  She borrowed an old t-shirt and shorts.  They’d fallen asleep in his bed.  And it was lovely.  

And then at some point, in the middle of the night, with Effie’s back facing Matthew as he switched positions in his sleep, all she felt was a body pressing up against her slightly.  So she did the only thing she needed to do.

She punched him.  Hard.  

She hit between his eye and nose.  A loud “FUCK!” escaped him after the sound of skin hitting skin permeated through his bedroom.  Her body seized up and, like countless times before, she jumped out of bed.  When she turned around to look down at the bed, Matthew was clutching his eye in pain.  It was then that she realized just that – it was Matthew.  It wasn’t Abraham.  

“M—M—Matthew,” she stuttered out.  

“What the fuck, Effie?!” his temper got the best of him.

“M—Matthew—I—I thought—Abraham—I thought you were Abraham—”

With his one clear eye, he looked at her.  His chest was heaving.  But he didn’t say anything.  His shoulders slumped slightly.  And without saying anything, he got up out of the bed and walked out of the room.

Effie immediately dropped to her knees on the bed.  It’s what she would have done before, to ask for forgiveness for denying her husband satisfaction whenever and wherever he wanted it.  But now, in the new world, in her new world, it wasn’t like that.  She didn’t have to repent for her sin.  It didn’t have to be that way.  Abraham wasn’t in bed with her.  It was Matthew.  Sweet, soft, rough around the edges Matthew.

She started crying.  She couldn’t believe that she’d just done that to him.  She cried so hard she didn’t even realize he’d come back into the room quietly, with a bag of peas pressed against his face where she’d punched him.  

After she apologized, and he said nothing, she crawled over to him, the last of her tears spilling over her cheeks.  She lay her hand on his back.  “Matthew—”

He flinched at her touch.  She recoiled her hand back so quickly she didn’t know she could move that fast.  Her heart tightened in her chest, knowing she’d just caused him – and was continuing to cause him – such physical pain, when all he’d given her over the last few months was patience and support.  

Matthew heard her sharp intake of breath when he flinched.  He didn’t mean to flinch – really – he just didn’t expect her to touch him after she’d just punched his face for brushing up against her.  He took a few deep breaths to control his emotions before he looked behind him, seeing her tear-stained face looking at him.  

When he saw the lingering fear in her eyes, he couldn’t be angry.

***

Matthew played his hockey game, and he managed to score a goal and record an assist, but after the game, his mind was somewhere else.  Effie hadn’t shown up to the game; she wasn’t waiting with Jenna and Geneviève, and Jenna told him she was tired from work which is why she stayed home.  He needed to talk to her.  Needed to talk to her.  But he didn’t know how, and he didn’t know what to do.  

Jacob, Geneviève, Levi, and Jenna all left early, leaving him to go home alone.  He trudged down the hallway and took the elevator to the parking garage, his feet dragging on the concrete and he walked with his head down, a storm forming in his mind about what he was going to do.

“Matthew?” he heard a soft voice.

He shot his head up.  For a second he thought he was hallucinating, or some sort of mirage, but no – Effie was in the parking garage, standing right next to his car.  He had no idea how she got in but at this point he didn’t really care.  All he cared about was that she was there.  He rushed over to her as quickly as his legs would take him.  “You’re here,” he said, once he got close to her.  Her face was red and blotchy.  He hated seeing it like that.  It reminded him of the incident in the washroom.  “What’s going on?”

“I spent the whole day crying thinking about what I did to you,” she said, her voice sounding like she was on the verge of tears again.

“Effie, I told you it was alri—”

“It’s not alright, Matthew,” she asserted.  He’d said it all last night while she was profusely apologizing, but she didn’t believe him.  He’d said it up until she was picked up by a taxi to be taken back to her place.  He’d begged her to stay.  She couldn’t see how she could when she’d just punched him in the face.  “I wish you would stop saying that.  I hit you.  I gave you a black eye.  Nothing about that is alright—”

“Effie—”

“I just—I thought you were Abraham because he’d do that a lot and—because I would always try to say no otherwise, and so he had to get me at a point where—”

“EFFIE,” he said loudly, over her frantic voice, and she stopped immediately.  They stared at each other for a few moments in pure silence before Effie could feel Matthew’s hands grab hers.  He pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her tightly, and she nestled her face into his chest and inhaled his scent.  A wave of peace flowed throughout her body.  He hadn’t asked to touch her, but at the same time, she hadn’t flinched.  His touch was so…so pure and so soft – so unlike anything else she’d felt before – that there was no reason to flinch or be scared.  His hands wouldn’t hurt her like other hands had.  She realized this, inhaling his scent one more time.  He wouldn’t hurt her.

When he released the hug, she brought her own hands up to cradle his face.  His facial hair was a bit rough against her skin, but it was still the softest she’d ever felt on a man.  Maybe it was because he always gave her butterflies.  Maybe it was something else.  “You’re so soft, Matthew…” her voice was barely above a whisper.  

“What’s that mean?” he asked, his voice equally as low.  “I’m not soft.”

“Yes, you are.  You are for me,” she clarified.  “You’re the softest man I’ve ever felt.  I don’t want that to change.”

He realized what she meant now.  It hit him like a ton of bricks, like most things did with Effie.  “It won’t,” he asserted.  “You can count on me.”

“I know I can,” she nodded her head.

Matthew couldn’t take it anymore.  They couldn’t continue this in the parking garage.  “Can I take you back to my place again and we can talk?  Properly?”

Effie nodded her head.  

***

Matthew let Effie roam in his kitchen while he changed out of his suit into some comfier clothes.  When he emerged from his room, Effie was sitting on his couch – just like she had been last night – a glass of water in her hand, sipping from it delicately.  He knew she’d end up back on his couch since she had commented last night how big and comfy it was.  Matthew didn’t even know where it was from – it came with the apartment.  But ever since she’d sat on it and made the comment, he found it comfier.

He walked over to her slowly, and she watched him, not saying a word.  Instead of taking a seat beside her, he knelt in front of her, between her legs.  He was still almost at eye level with her.  Boldly, he took the glass of water out of her hand and set it down on the coffee table.  He grabbed her hands in his and rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumb tenderly.  “Can I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“What happened that night?  After you punched Abraham?”

Effie was silent for a moment.  “I…I—I got pregnant.”

The words stabbed Matthew in the heart.  He squeezed her hands to let go of some pain, and she squeezed back.  “I’m so sorry for what I did, Effie—”

“You have nothing to apologize about,” she said.  “You did nothing wrong.”

“But I scared you.  And I promised I’d never do that.  And it brought up bad memories…”

Effie was shaking her head.  “You didn’t scare me.  My mind did.  My mind thought you were Abraham.  But you’re the farthest thing from him, Matthew, and you need to know that.  You don’t scare me at all.  Not even a bit.  Not like Abraham scared me.”

Matthew bit his tongue so he could feel some pain and keep himself from crying.  To think about how she was so scared for eighteen years of her life, and now she wasn’t, and part of that was because he was around, helping her feel comfortable…he couldn’t have asked for anything more.  He knew he shouldn’t feel guilty for what happened, especially since Effie was telling him what she was telling him, but he knew he would for a while.  It’d take him a while to get over it.  “When we went on the date…did you—I mean, did you just do it because you felt like you had to?  Because you had to experience a first date to be normal or whatever?  Or did you actually want to?” he asked.

“I actually wanted to,” she said without hesitation.  Matthew could feel his heart beating in his chest.  “I wanted to, and with you.  Not with another guy and not with, like, Sean or whatever,” she said, and it made Matthew break out into a smirk.  “It was you.  And even though…I mean—I mean I think we could…and we would…” she tried to formulate her thought into coherent words.  

“But I don’t know if we should,” he finished her sentence.

Effie nodded.  “At least not yet.  I’m not—I’m not mentally there yet.  I’m not ready.  And it wouldn’t be fair to bring you along so closely with something I know I’m not ready for.  There’s so much I still need to learn…about, well…everything.”

Matthew nodded his head.  He understood completely.  “You know that I never expected anything, right?” he asked.

“Oh, of course not,” she said like it was the obscenest idea in the world.  She knew Matthew would never expect that of her.  “I think what’ll be good is you going home during the summer, and me starting my course in June…and by the time you come back in September, you might even see a brand new me.”

Matthew couldn’t help but smile at that.  He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs again.  “You’re already a brand new person, Effie.  When I come back you’ll just be wiser.  Do you promise to message me on Instagram about everything you learn and the stuff you experience?”

Effie nodded her head, a smile adorning her face now.  “Matthew?” she asked after a moment of silence.

This time, he looked up at her.  He knew what was coming.

This time, she didn’t need to stand on her tip-toes.  All she had to do was lean forward and kiss him.

[ahockeywrites]

4 times you stayed at his + the 1 time he stayed at yours - Matthew Tkachuk

A/N: Hi everyone! I had this idea and within 48 hours I had it fully written. I hope you enjoy this 5k of fluffy Matty! Thanks to @calgarycanuck for proof reading this!!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, explicit fem!reader

One

It was a typical Saturday night for the Calgary Flames who were celebrating a big win over the Canucks. Your best friend, Matthew Tkachuk, had invited you and your roommate out to come to the bars. Jess had been quite friendly with Noah Hanifin, and you just hoped they wouldn’t be using your apartment as a place to spend the night.

You tugged down the sleeve of your deep green bodysuit and looked across to the bar, hoping to see Matthew ordering you another rum and coke but instead saw him surrounded by 5 beautiful women. Women who you thought were more beautiful than you. As you let out a small sigh, you turned to Lauren and struck up a conversation with her. She had persuaded you to join her for a hot yoga class followed by a brunch in the next few days to catch up properly as you had been working so much. The friends you had made through meeting Matthew were amazing, but it didn’t take a genius to notice that the feelings you had for him were slightly more than friendly. 

“I’m gonna go and get myself a drink,” you announced to no one in particular. As you pushed your way to the bar, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist. “Hey you,” you heard the voice of Noah in your ear. “You want a drink?” he asked. You nodded and asked him for a double dark rum and coke. If Matthew was busy with girls, you thought, you might as well let someone else get you a drink.

Noah passed you the finished drink and you took a large gulp of it. “Please tell me this isn’t a bribe so I can let you and Jess go and fuck in our apartment?” you groaned, figuring out what he was doing. Noah did this often; when he wanted you to take Jess out of the apartment to set up for a dinner date or more often than not when he wanted the apartment to be empty so the two of them could spend time wrapped up in each other.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault she’s so hot,” he complained. You rolled your eyes telling him that you’d find somewhere to crash. Usually, it was the Giordano’s spare room, but after you quickly scanned the bar, you noticed they had already left. It turns out, the only people left at the bar were Matthew and his entourage, Jess, Noah and you. You had no choice but to try and pry him away from the girls surrounding him.

You finished your drink and made your way over to where he was sitting at the bar. As you tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around to see you and offered you a huge smile. Matthew got up out of his seat, pushing the girls away and gave you a large hug. “How are you going?” he asked, genuinely as he hadn’t seen you much during the night. A few of the girls gave you a dirty look, but you ignored them knowing that Matthew would rather spend quality time with you.

“I’m good, just not sure where I’m gonna be sleeping tonight,” you mentioned hoping he would get the hint.

“Noah and Jess going at it like rabbits again?” he questioned, knowing what you had to deal with. You nodded and told him that Gio had already gone home so using their spare room was out of the equation. “Just stay at mine, it's no bother,” he said with a smile. “You wanna go now?” he asked.

Matthew had never offered you his spare room to stay at, no matter how close the two of you were. Or was it that Lauren always took you under her wing and he wasn’t able to offer you the room? He thought that it was a simple offer but you were freaking out inside. The not so little crush you were harbouring on him was going to be made more obvious, surely?

“Yeah, I’m working an afternoon shift tomorrow so kinda need the sleep,” you replied. 

“Sure, lemme close up my tab and order an Uber,” he smiled back. Matthew reached over to grab the attention of the closest bartender and passed across his credit card. He pulled you into his grasp to make sure you didn’t blend into the crowd. As he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket, he led the two of you to a slightly less crowded area so he could easily order the car home.

The outside air was cold, and Matthew noticed that you began to shiver as the wind picked up. Quickly, he slid his jacket off and placed it over your shoulders, “the car is only a minute away,” he informed you as you tried to warm up under his jacket. It wasn’t like Matthew was warm in just his jeans and t-shirt, but he knew his mother would kill him if he didn’t even offer you his jacket.

Matthew didn’t know why he just got up and left the girls at the bar as he was sure one of them would have come home with him. The friendship the two of you shared was strong and slightly flirty, but he also knew that the girls who were at the bar all arrived together and if he didn’t take you home safely, he would be worrying about it all night. For his sanity, this was what he kept telling himself, not that, god forbid, his feelings for you exceeded the bounds of friendship.

As if the car he ordered knew he needed to stop thinking, it arrived stopping directly in front of the pair of you. The driver lowered the window and Matthew checked it was for him and going to the right place. Once he was sure this was actually for the two of you, he opened the door for you allowing you to slide into the back seats. You shuffled your way across to let Matthew have some space. The drive back to his place was short, but he never let go of your hand, even letting his thumb brush over your knuckles occasionally. It felt more than friendly to the both of you.

The car abruptly stopped outside of Matthew’s apartment building and he jumped out to open the car door for you. It was strange, his behaviour, you thought, but maybe it was because you had never stayed the night in his guest room. He greeted the concierge in the lobby and directed you towards the elevator.

You had been to Matthew’s apartment before, but not like this. You knew he lived on the 35th floor and he had an amazing view of Calgary out of his bedroom window, but you had probably spent a total of one hour there, aside from the pre-drinks he occasionally held. He led you into his apartment quickly and stood in the kitchen, unsure what he should do. “I don’t know what you usually wear to sleep, but I can grab a shirt for you? And I think Taryn left makeup wipes in the spare bathroom when she was last here?” he seemed to be questioning himself more than asking you. One of his arms reached up to scratch his neck to add to the awkwardness.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “a shirt would be great thanks.” Matthew pointed you in the direction of the spare bathroom and you started taking your makeup off. You looked at yourself in the mirror and just hoped that Matthew wasn’t gonna see what you looked like barefaced. In your mind, he couldn’t see you without your additional layer of confidence. You walked back through to the spare room to see him sitting on the side of the bed with a shirt in his hands. “Urm, I hope this is comfy enough,” he stuttered, unsure of what he should say.

“Thanks, Matty,” you replied, taking the shirt from him but not wanting to undress in front of him. He stood quiet for a second before realising he should leave and let you sleep.

“Goodnight Y/N, sleep well,” he said, bringing you in for a hug.

“Goodnight Matty,” you replied.

You walked back into the bathroom to change out of your restricting jeans and bodysuit to put on the soft shirt. Initially, you didn’t notice what he had given you, but when you looked in the mirror you saw the logo of the London Knights. And sure enough, on the back was the number 7 and the name Tkachuk. You laughed softly, he knew you weren’t a Flames fan so he would never be able to get you to wear his current jersey, but this was a step closer to him getting his best friend in his jersey.

Two

He didn’t mean to let you stay over again, you were just so tired after being his plus one to a Flames event. It wasn’t like you had found the event boring at all, just after an afternoon shift at the restaurant, followed by getting ready with Lauren and Jess and then having to control Matthew at the charity event, you were tired and ready to sleep.

Matthew had to almost drag you out of the Uber because you had fallen asleep on his shoulder in the car. “Y/N, c’mon, just a little further then you can crash for the night,” he encouraged you. You lifted your arms up, indicating that you wanted him to carry you up to his apartment. He groaned but lifted you up to carry you bridal style through his apartment complex. Somehow, you had fallen back asleep in the elevator on the way up and he had to try and open his apartment door without waking you up. He was successful and gently walked through his apartment to lay you down on his guest bed. 

It took a few moments for him to remember where the makeup wipes were but as soon as he figured it out he went to find them and started slowly removing your makeup. He thought he was doing a good job until he figured out you had put on a pair of fake eyelashes. There was no way he would be able to take these off without waking you up or hurting you and he decided that the former would be the safest option.

“Hey,” Matthew whispered softly whilst gently shaking your shoulder. You stirred slightly in your sleep so he shook your shoulder again with a little more force. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open to see a shirtless Matthew with a slightly dirty makeup wipe in one hand and a confused look on his face.

“You didn’t have to take my makeup off for me,” you spoke with a lot of sleep in your voice. 

“It’s okay,” he replied, “I was almost there but you’ve got these things stuck to your eyes and I really don’t want to hurt you.” You laughed having forgotten that you had put falsies on and told him to wait there and you’d try and take them off without your usual products. Luckily, Matthew had been able to detach the inner corner of both sets of lashes and you quickly pulled them off. It was slightly painful as you didn’t use your normal cleanser to help them detach, but they were removed and that was the main thing. You quickly disposed of them in the trash can in the bathroom and saw Matthew waiting on the edge of the bed with a shirt for you to wear. He handed it across and let you go back into the bathroom to change into it.

“Matty,” you began, “do you still have the makeup wipes out there?” You wanted to take off the rest of your eye makeup but were pretty certain that he had them somewhere near him.

“Yeah I do, come back out here so I can take the rest of it off for you,” he replied. You were slightly confused but went back through to sit opposite Matthew on the bed. He tugged you so you were straddling his lap and started removing the rest of your makeup. He was so deep in concentration that he didn’t notice you placing your hands on his hips to keep yourself still. If you didn’t do this, you were almost certain his hockey strength would have sent you flying. 

You asked him if he was done and he nodded telling you to get comfy in bed. Obliging, you made your way under the comforter and almost instantly you fell asleep. Matthew walked back in to see you completely knocked out and went to brush some hair off of your face. “Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered.

Three

Best friends stay over at each other’s houses, right? You convinced yourself that staying at Matthew’s house whilst he was on a week-long road trip was okay, simply because he had a better kitchen than you and his bathroom had a bath compared to just a shower in your apartment.

Matthew had given you his spare key to use when you needed to go in and check on the houseplants his mother had given him as an apartment warming gift. You did question why Chantal had given him a selection of plants but you didn’t complain as it meant you could take advantage of the amazing kitchen set up he had. As you dragged your bags filled with baking ingredients into the apartment, you noticed that there was a note left on the kitchen counter. It read:

Y/N, thanks for watering the plants on this roadie! I may have taken the extra brownies you made for me on this trip because the boys wanted something to remind them of Calgary. Stay safe, Matt :)

You smiled, knowing that the team always devoured any baked goods you brought along and you had even helped some of the children who were at the events with decorating fairy cakes. The kids adored you to the point some of the parents would get you to babysit them when they wanted a date night and how could you resist? It seemed like each of the children had you wrapped around their little finger as you found it hard to put them to bed at their usual bedtime as all they wanted to do was something creative.

The memories you had made with the children had to be pushed aside as you were here to bake, and you were unsure of how much you were going to make. First, you put the milk and butter in the fridge to make sure it was cold and unpacked everything else onto the kitchen counter. Then, you grabbed your laptop out of your backpack and loaded up the recipes you were planning on making. A batch of chocolate chip cookies, a tray of brownies and an apple pie was the bare minimum you wanted to make. You hoped that there would be enough time to make a set of 24 blueberry muffins too but would be happy to snack on the blueberries throughout the day. 

You fiddled with the dials on the oven to allow it to preheat and connected your phone to the fancy speaker system Matthew had in his house. The playlist you chose was one you and Matthew had curated to be perfect for relaxing days and it was exactly what you needed on your day off. The music allowed you to become lost in the baking and you didn’t realise the time was so late until you looked out of the large windows. The sun had set so you took a quick look at your watch to notice that it was nearing 9 in the evening. How you had become so engrossed in the cooking was a mystery to you as this seldom happened.

Notifications lit up your phone and you chose to reply to Matthew first, letting him know that his plants had been watered and you had even bought some fertiliser to help them grow. Then you dropped a quick text to Jess letting her know you were just going to stay at Matthew’s apartment for the night rather than risking an Uber alone at night. Sometimes you hated being a woman and not trusting society but you knew that Matthew wouldn’t mind you staying at his place as long as he knew you were safe.

It seemed as if your tiredness hit you quickly because once you ordered some food for a late dinner and had watched the Flames game, you were half asleep on the couch in the living room. Slowly, you peeled yourself off the couch and removed the blankets you had been hiding under to the other couch. The walk to the spare room seemed too natural and you noticed that there was a small collection of skincare products sitting on the counter next to the sink. You realised that they were minis of the same things you used. Matthew couldn’t have gone out of his way to figure out what you used and get some for you in case you stayed over again, could he? It seemed like something he could do but you thought he would do that for someone he considered to be more than a friend, unless? No, you thought to yourself, he couldn’t like you in the same way you liked him. 

Shaking your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, you started to cleanse your face and then add the moisturiser on top. Once you had finished your nighttime routine, you walked through to Matthew’s bedroom and his closet to try and find something to wear to bed. The shirt you were looking for was the same one you had worn the first two times you had stayed over at his place. It was slightly hidden behind a few pairs of jeans and the occasional St Louis t-shirt but you found it and it was just as soft as you remembered. You slipped back into his spare room and quickly changed into the shirt.

There was just one more thing you needed to do and that was to box up all the baked goods you had created earlier. You made your way back to the kitchen and found the Tupperware you brought along solely for this purpose, then popped them on the kitchen island with a note for Matthew telling him that you were in his spare room and that he could eat as many of the snacks as his meal plan allowed him to. You also sent him a text warning him that you were staying at his in the spare room for the night as you didn’t want to head back to your place by yourself in the dark and he should be quiet if he arrives back before you were awake. He did reply, but much later so you were already asleep.

Matthew gently opened the front door to his apartment, not wanting to accidentally wake you from your sleep, seeing as it was 5 am. He placed his equipment bag down in the hallway and took in a deep breath, inhaling the smell of many different baked goods. Even if it was 5 am, there was no way in hell he was going to turn down something you had made. He waltzed his way across to the kitchen and was greeted by multiple boxes, each with a label on informing him what was inside each of them. A small giggle left his mouth as he read the note that you had left on top of the boxes and he chose to have a piece of the brownie before he went to check on you in the spare room.

The large comforter engulfed your body and he noticed how at peace you looked. Matthew wondered if you would ever be the one he came home to after a long road trip.

Four

6-0 loss. 10 minutes in the penalty box. Ejected from the game. This was the worst game you had ever seen from Matthew and knew that he would need space, so The text you received from him was unexpected.

Come over

Short and straight to the point. You were unsure what to expect but replied saying you were catching an Uber and were gonna be over in about 15 minutes.

Knocking on the door felt more appropriate rather than using the key he had gifted to you to use as you didn’t want to walk in to see him destroying plates and glasses. As the door swung open, a dishevelled Matthew silently greeted you. He was shirtless, displaying the bruises he had obtained from a night of hockey. You followed him into his place and went to get two glasses of water because you knew that he wouldn’t have drunk anything for himself.

The sounds of muffled crying filled the apartment and it tugged on your heartstrings. The feelings that you had developed for the St Louis native made you almost drop the glasses, but you were able to make your way back to the family room. 

Matthew was curled up, in the foetus position, on the largest couch. Tears flowed from his eyes, he was feeling emotions that he rarely felt after a game. He was a player who left all his feelings from a game on the ice, but it was impossible to do this when you’ve been ejected from a game. 

He knew you wouldn’t turn down an invitation to see him because he had noticed the extra time you spent at his apartment. But he thought it was for the kitchen, not the feelings you had for him.

It wasn’t like Matthew didn’t have feelings for you, ever since the first night you had spent at his place, he knew he wanted to be more than friends with you. But he was respectful, he knew how he would want someone to treat Taryn, so he treated you the same way. He assumed that you wanted to be no more than friends, and he was happy with that. 

The advice you gave him, the jokes you made (often at the expense of his teammates), just the company you offered him when he needed it. He couldn’t lose that, you were too good of a friend for him.

You placed down the drinks on the coffee table and just looked at him. He looked broken on the outside and it just made you think how broken he must be on the inside. It wasn’t a good game for the entire team, but his individual performance wasn’t brilliant either. Matthew was competitive, anyone who had ever seen him knew that.

“Matty,” you said. There it was, he thought, the one nickname that no one else could call him except you. 

You ran your hands through his hair, letting his tears continue to flow. It was hard for you, as a friend, to see someone this close to you go through this. But you knew that he needed to let his feelings out, and just be there for him when he needed you, whenever that was.

His right hand reached for one of yours and you offered it to him. It grounded him, knowing that he was safe in his house, safe with you, safe with his emotions. “I played shit, I don’t deserve to play in the NHL, let alone have the ‘A’ on my chest,” he spoke aimlessly. 

“Matty,” you consoled him, “one game does not define you as a player, you as a team member.” After this, you pulled him into your body, hoping that he would accept it. You remembered that he liked hugs when he wasn’t feeling amazing, so you knew it wouldn’t be pushing his boundaries. 

He continued to cry, wetting your T-shirt in the process, but he needed this. You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, hoping that wouldn’t be too far.

“Y/N,” Matthew sniffled, “I just wanna be held as I sleep.” 

“Of course, anything for you,” you replied softly. You gently unwrapped yourself from around him and offered him your hand to walk to his bedroom. He followed you and sat down on the side of the bed. “Just gotta brush your teeth, Matty,” you encouraged. He sighed but followed you to his en-suite.

“I’ll let you brush your teeth, I’m gonna find something to wear to bed,” you informed him. He pouted slightly but let your past. You were familiar with his closet and the exact shirt you were looking for. A London Knights game-worn jersey, it was soft and perfect for sleeping in.

It wasn’t the first time Matthew had seen you in his jersey, and he hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time. He smiled to himself, the first time he had been genuinely happy all night. He tried to stop you from going to the bathroom to brush your teeth and take your makeup off but you were able to make your way past.

You tried to be quick with your skincare routine, somehow you had a bottle of everything you needed in Matthew’s bathroom, but knew you couldn’t rush any of the steps. As you were applying your final product, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. “I thought you were gonna be quick,” Matthew complained as he nuzzled his head into your neck.

“I was trying,” you replied as you turned to face him. He was so close that your foreheads were touching and you were able to look directly into his eyes. “We should-,” you started.

“Bed, yes,” he finished for you. All you wanted to do was kiss him, but you couldn’t take advantage of him when he wasn’t feeling good. He unwrapped his arms from you and offered you his hand so you could walk back to his bedroom. Matthew refused to let go of your hand as you both got into bed, and you allowed him to be the little spoon because he needed to be in someone’s embrace tonight. 

“Goodnight Matty,” you whispered, but he didn’t hear you as he was already asleep.

plus one

It was a drunk mistake that should never have happened he said, but nothing he said could prepare you to see photos of your now ex-boyfriend making out with some random girl when he had been on a ‘work trip’. Jess tried her best to help you by bringing you ice cream and watching shitty television with you but there was only so much she could do when Noah came over to take her out on a date. You were happy for her, you really were but seeing someone happy in a relationship was not what you needed right now. 

You allowed yourself to think over the good times you had with him, but they were so few and far between. He had pulled you away from the friends you had made out of the Flames players and they all became worried about you and suddenly you realised how toxic the short relationship was. Quickly, you scrambled to find your phone and noticed it had been two weeks since you had last texted Lauren when usually you would be texting daily and you hadn’t spoken to Matthew in three weeks. Normally, it was common for the two of you to physically see each other at least every day.

But then it clicked, your ex must have been jealous of the friendship you had with Matthew and his teammates. You understood slightly as you did have a crush on Matthew but that died down when you started dating him. It was a trust issue, he didn’t trust that you would stay just friends with them so he had to pull you away. It was slightly ironic, how he didn’t trust you as he thought you might cheat on him, but then he went and cheated on you.

There was only one person who could make you feel better and he would understand how shitty your ex was and how you needed to rebuild the friendship with him. As soon as you sent him a message, he was quick to reply saying that he was on his way to your apartment with Chinese food and a pint of your favourite ice cream. It was at this you noticed the butterflies forming in your stomach, the crush you had never went away, did it? 

You were brought out of your thoughts by a knock on your apartment door and went over to open it. As soon as you saw Matthew’s face you broke down in tears again. Quickly, he brought you into a tight hug, somehow not dropping the food he had brought. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s head to the couch and enjoy the takeout I’ve got?” he asked, unsure if he was asking you or himself. Your head might have been pretty much attached to his chest but he could feel you gently nod in response. 

He offered you his hand and walked towards the couch. You sat down first and he started unpacking the food onto the coffee table. “Just sit back and find something to watch,” he instructed. You followed as he said and he quickly left to grab some cutlery from the kitchen. You flicked through Netflix and settled on Brooklyn 99 because it could just stay on in the background. Sighing, you picked up your phone and reread the DM you had received from the girl’s best friend. You didn’t notice Matthew standing behind you until he picked your phone out of your hands and put it in his pocket. “Tonight, we’re gonna watch Jake Peralta attempt to solve some crimes, enjoy the takeout, maybe drink some wine, and forget about that asshole,” Matthew affirmed. You sighed again but knew that he would be getting his way. 

Matthew passed you a plate and some cutlery before disappearing back into the kitchen to collect a bottle of your favourite wine and some wine glasses. He sat down next to you on the couch and poured two generous glasses of wine. As soon as the food was opened, it was like the two of you hadn’t spent any time away from each other. The conversation flowed perfectly, as did the wine and after two episodes of B99, the two of you were slightly wine drunk, which you continued to tell Matthew was the best type of drunk.

“I missed you, Matty,” you admitted. He sent you a soft smile but knew that he felt the exact same way. Your ex was toxic for you and he was glad that you had gotten out of that relationship. The smile you had on your face was real and one of the purest he had ever seen in his entire life. Your happiness radiated to him too and he started laughing as you began to make silly faces at him.

You were lucky that Matthew had seen you wine drunk before and knew you were getting close to crashing and needing to be near a bed was almost a necessity. He wasn’t sure how, but he was able to get you to your bathroom, even as you were stumbling the entire way there. There was no makeup on your face so he quickly used a face cloth to clean your skin and was able to find some moisturiser to use on both of your faces. It was the most genuine smile he had seen you ever have in a long time and he was able to adore your beauty. 

“‘M sleepy,” you groaned, giving Matthew a small shove to try and encourage him to move out of your way.

“I know babe,” he replied, not noticing the term of endearment he had used for the first time. “You just need to put something on that you can sleep in.” You nodded your head and dramatically walked to your dresser and pulled out a matching set of short black satin pyjamas. It wasn’t a pair you usually chose to wear, but they looked nice. Clearly, your drunk head was trying to impress Matthew. You jumped directly on top of the soft comforter and didn’t care that you should have been underneath the blanket because you fell asleep almost immediately. 

Matthew came out to see you sleeping softly on the bed and gently picked you up to place you under the duvet and onto the mattress. A soft kiss from him was pressed to your temple and you subconsciously smiled in your sleep. He moved around to the other side of the bed and wrapped you in his arms, hoping this was the last night you were in his arms but not his girlfriend.

[raysofcrosby]

WHATEVER LIFE THROWS AT YOU – m. tkachuk

part nine – KEEP THIS LOVE IN A PHOTOGRAPH

warning(s): a little bit of angst, matt being a butthead for .2 seconds and some sad moments.

summary: still reeling from betrayal, chantal gives matt an overdue gift that leads him down a road to all the things he missed. after some advice, he ends up back at caroline’s door and the two have a much needed, second conversation, finding himself wanting to mend the wounds from the last eight years.

word count: 12,014

an: i may or may not have listened to photograph by ed sheeran on repeat while writing this 🥺again, i suck at summaries they’re literally the worst lol

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He didn’t go back to Calgary.

He did stay in a hotel the night of Thanksgiving and the day after that, only returning home when he knew his parents were off at Brady’s game, the last home game before he went off on a 2-week road series, only to come back for a 3 game home stand then be off again for another 2 weeks which would bring him back home the last two days of the year, where he’d luckily have New Year's Eve off. He didn’t leave his room unless he knew his parents were out of the house somewhere and if he couldn’t avoid them, he’d just do whatever he needed to do and ignored the hell out of them.

Not that they attempted to talk to him anyway.

Maybe it was because he clearly had a look on his face that said ‘don’t talk to me’ or maybe it was because after that blowup on Thanksgiving night, they knew how he felt about the entire situation and they knew that they were wrong. Either way, they were giving him the space he desperately needed and didn’t need to ask for.

And it stayed that way for a week. He went along his business, going to physical therapy, doing his stretches, calling the guys to see how everything was going and to keep up morale, and if he happened to cross paths with his parents, he just kept going on his way. The only time he ever purposely avoided them was when he knew Ethan was coming over, Caroline came to pick him up or any of the Marsh’s came over.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see any of them, it was just that he needed a little bit of time. It was easy enough waking up every morning and remembering that hey, he was a Dad. The thought alone was simple, but the questions that followed weren’t. Where do he and Caroline go from here? When were they going to tell Ethan? Would they do split custody and he got Ethan for the summer months? Did he have to legally file for split custody for those three months? How does this all work out and why did the mere thought of even having to think about split custody make his stomach feel all sour?

Besides the haunting questions and constantly replaying his and Gio’s conversation in his mind every second of the day, Matt had to deal with telling Greg, his agent, about Ethan. As expected, he didn’t immediately greet the news with welcome arms, thinking that Matt had gotten himself twisted up with a random hook-up in Calgary somewhere. But once Matt told him the details, well pretty much everything he knew and that Caroline wasn’t some random girl he met at a bar or on an app, he could hear the stress lower in Greg’s voice.

Until he started talking about how they would put it out there in the world, different strategies they could take that would put the cards into their hands and have it break when they wanted it to...and Matt told him no. That he couldn’t release that information yet, because Ethan didn’t even know yet.

“Sooner rather than later, Matt. You don’t want this getting out unless you and her are the ones announcing it.”

Matt knew that. He knew that at some point, it would have to be out there that he has a son and if he didn’t announce it first, somehow someone else would catch them on a day together and throw it all into the hands of some magazine or all bundled up in an email to a sports network. He knew how the world worked from his side when it came to the need to know and want to know details of a player's personal life.

Sometimes, it was like there were no boundaries and that’s what made him the most nervous about all of this. Not that he wanted to hide the fact that Ethan existed or the history he and Caroline shared...but how it’d all play out for them. He could handle it, he’s been on the receiving end of some not-so-great tweets, articles, newsreels, etc for most of his career. But Caroline hadn’t and Ethan was just a kid.

But sometimes, none of that ever even mattered to the ones who wanted to be the first ones to get the news out first.

Before the phone call ended, Greg had reminded him again to try and have the conversation with Caroline about what to do and what they wanted to do and Matt just agreed and hung up. But that conversation wouldn’t be happening for a while, not until Ethan knew and not until Matt felt comfortable enough in his apparently shattered relationship with Caroline.

Caroline’s birthday had come and gone and Matt knew she hadn’t asked Brady for the birthday gift like he told her to do...because it was still sitting tucked up at the top of his closet. At least the half of it that Brady knew about. The other half was still sitting at the bottom of the last drawer of his dresser, buried beneath the stack of t-shirts he tossed in when he unpacked that first week home. A velvet black box that sat untouched from the moment he tossed in and covered with a bunch of t-shirts he never wore anymore once that first week back at home ended and he found out that Caroline had left for the summer.

No one knew about that part of what would’ve been her birthday gift...well, only Mitch. Because Mitch was there with Matt when he bought it. Another reason why he had been so understanding to Matt since he was also with him the moment Caroline’s break-up text came through. And since he’s locked himself away in his room once all of his errands are done, it’s been all he could think about.

A reminder of just how different things are now and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to bring himself to dig it up from the bottom of the drawer.

He was on day eight of keeping up with his ignore everyone routine and truly just felt drained all around– physically, mentally, and emotionally. Physical therapy kicked his ass, now that he was getting ready to reach six weeks post-op and was given new stretches that were really involving his shoulder, most of his appointments ending in a serious icing session. He stopped at subway on the way home and grabbed himself a sub before going home, showering and then hiding back up in his room to eat.

Once he had finished eating, he checked the time to see if he could make it to the bathroom down the hall without being caught by his parents or Ethan– and if he could be quiet, he’d succeed. Now was around the time that Ethan and his Dad would be heading out to practice, not coming back till later that night. The large drink he splurged on was enough to have him risk getting caught as he carefully opened his door and snuck down the hall to use the bathroom. When he was done, he snuck back out into the hall and got to his bedroom door just in time as he heard his Dad and Ethan leaving.

“Papa Walt?” Ethan asked, he and Matt’s Dad walking by the bottom of the stairs as Matt tried to peek out of his door.

“What’s up, buddy?” Matt’s Dad replied, handing him his winter coat.

“Is he mad that I didn’t want to work on my backhands at Thanksgiving? Is that why he’s not helping me anymore?” Ethan paused at the bottom of the stairs, zipping up the thick coat.

Matt heard his Dad take a deep breath and exhale before opening the door. “He’s not mad at you Ethan, I promise. He’s just...dealing with some stuff.”

“Shoulder stuff?”

“A bit, yeah.”

He heard the front door close and he closed his bedroom door, walking over to his bed. That wasn’t the first time that he’d heard Ethan ask about where Matt had been over the last week. Every time Ethan’s come over since that first day Matt left the hotel...he’s asked. Is he sick? Is he mad? Where’s he at? Is he hungry? Is he sleeping? Did he go back to Calgary? Should we make him a sandwich? It’s not because I didn’t want to do backhands, is it? Are you sure he’s not mad at me?

The first time he heard him ask about the backhands, Matt felt horrible. It hadn’t even dawned on him that Ethan would even think that the reason Matt hadn’t been around was his fault. But still, Matt couldn’t bring himself to leave his room, he still needed time. How was he supposed to look Ethan in the eyes and just act like he hadn’t learned this big secret? How would he be able to keep the word son from accidentally slipping through his lips? Most of all, how was he supposed to look at him and remember that he’d missed out on nearly his entire life without getting even the slightest bit angry? Ethan was a smart kid, there was no way he wouldn’t miss the tension Matt was carrying, he’d catch on too quick for Matt to handle.

He didn’t even know if Caroline was going to tell him...or when, Matt at least gave her that much. Now that he knew, there was no way she’d keep it from Ethan and if she did, she wasn’t the girl he knew growing up. It was still hard to believe that the girl he loved for all of those years, so easily shut him out of something this big.

But still...he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but it was just so damn hard.

He’d only been lying back in his bed for ten minutes before a knock came from his door. He didn’t look in that direction, keeping his eyes on the tv. Another knock came a few seconds later before the door opened altogether, his Mom standing in the doorway. He wanted to say something slick along the lines of wanting some privacy since he was almost 26 years old, but even if he was mad at her, she was still his Mom and he would never disrespect her that way.

“I’m getting tired of this, Matthew.” She spoke, holding onto his doorknob. “I know you’re upset, but this isn’t the way to go about it.”

“Yeah, well hiding the fact that I have a son wasn’t exactly the best way to go about that either,” he spoke, crossing his arms as he kept his gaze ahead.

She walked into his room and over to the edge of his bed, sitting down. “I was dropping off their Christmas presents when I found out.” She said, running her hand over his comforter. “Caroline answered the door and I had just started talking thinking that it was Susan who answered. It took me a second to realize that it was Caroline and my eyes just drifted down and there was this...tiny baby in her arms in a blue onesie and I just couldn’t believe it.”

He didn’t want to listen, he heard it all from Caroline how his parents had found out about Ethan. But still, hearing the soft tone and guilt in his Mom’s voice, he let his gaze move away from the tv and onto her.

“Susan let me come in and we all sat down on the couch. Caroline put him down in this little soothe and sway and before anyone could speak, she just broke down into tears and told me everything.”

“Everything?” He asked.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes, everything and if I could ground you for sneaking her over those times eight years ago, I would.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting from letting the smile show on his face as he kept his arms crossed. “What happened? I mean, Caroline already told me...but I want to know your reasoning for not telling me.”

“She didn’t do it maliciously, Matthew, I want you to know that. When we were sitting there, I could just see how...scared and how worried she was that all of this would ruin everything that was happening for you.” She turned towards him more, resting her hands in her lap. “We got your Dad to try and reason with her, explain that you knowing about Ethan and everything wouldn’t hurt anything...but she didn’t want to risk it.”

“She knew not telling you was wrong, she told me herself. And she was insistent on everyone having a relationship with him, letting him grow up with everyone around and then telling you when the time was right.”

“She didn’t even tell me, Mom.” He said, clenching his jaw. “I only found out because I saw Ethan wearing that necklace I gave her for Christmas and he said that she told him his Dad gave it to him. Eight years and she wasn’t going to tell me. She played all of you guys and you let it happen.”

“Matthew Tkachuk you cut out that tone right now and you listen to me,” she said, giving him her stern Mom look. “We tried to get her to tell you, all of us and I mean all of us. We would talk to her and set dates for the day she’d tell you, but she would always get too scared and never do it.”

“You guys let her,” he replied, looking at her. “Even if she never told me, any of you could have. But you didn’t and I don’t understand why.”

“You asked why your Dad and I didn’t fight more for you to know about him,” she sighed, looking at him. “We did, Matthew. We tried, but she was just...she was never ready. We all tried to tell her that there was nothing to be worried about or scared about, but she just never listened.”

“How do I even know he’s mine?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them, a stupid thought he knew had no merit but said completely out of spite.

“I know you’ve taken plenty of hits over the years, but I’d like to think that you still have some normal brain function to know that what you just asked, was an incredibly stupid question, Matthew.” The tone and look on her face was the one he always had to stare at whenever he got grounded and instantly he felt like he was a teenager again getting reprimanded.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said it…”

“Because you’re frustrated.” She said, nodding. “You’re frustrated at Caroline and all of us and I understand that. We had no right to keep it from you as the years passed and I just want you to know that in doing that...it wasn’t easy on any of us, even Caroline. We only wanted to respect her wishes, Matthew. She was 18 and in many ways a child, but she was also a Mom. And she’s learning a very hard lesson from that first choice that she made all those years ago.”

Matt looked away from her again as he tried to focus on the Breaking Bad episode and ignore the sigh coming from his Mom. “I know it’s going to be some time before you can understand or even forgive us for what we did, but please just know that we all love you and in the beginning, we came to an agreement to benefit you. But as time went on, everything changed and everyone pushed her to say something. We haven’t been against you all of this time, Matthew and we love seeing you with Ethan. It’s something we’ve been waiting for for a very long time, and the Marsh’s since before he was even born.”

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head slightly as he looked back at her. “I missed everything, Mom. She lied to me and I-I missed it all. The ultrasounds, the appointments, the birth,” he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Ethan’s first steps, first words...everything a-and I feel like a part of me hates her for it, but I don’t want to hate her, Mom, I really don’t because she’s...I...she’s Care. But he’s also half mine and she cut me out of that entire experience of watching him grow up and grouped you guys all in it.”

His Mom got up and walked out of the room, leaving his bedroom door open behind her as he heard her walk down the steps. He stared at the empty doorway, giving her a little more time before he grabbed the corner of his blanket to toss it off to go close the door. Before he could toss off his blanket, she came back into the room, carrying a stack of four album books, walking back over to his bed.

“What is this?” He asked, looking at the stack.

“The bottom three are albums of pictures she’s put together in her spare time over the last few years,” she said, picking up the one on top and turning it to him. “And this one, is Ethan’s baby book, his first year.”

The book itself was hardcover, the spine was lighter green with dark green stripes that reached maybe three inches into the rest of the cover. Decorated across were little different colored flags that hung from a banner that was just above two cut-out squares that were stacked on top of each other. Inside the first, was a picture of a smiling Ethan who couldn’t have been more than a few months old, with messy curls, and a dimpled smile on full display with what was probably baby food all over his face. The second picture was a small footprint, probably taken from when he was born. Beneath both photos were the words ‘my baby book’ and in the bottom right corner, an embroidered grey elephant that was holding onto the string of an orange balloon.

“Why are you giving me these?” He asked, motioning towards the stack. “They’re yours, not mine.”

“No, ours are at the top of your Dad’s closet,” she said, walking towards him and placing the baby book in his lap. “These are yours.”

Matt picked up the baby book, feeling the weight of it as he looked at the other photo albums, shaking his head slightly. “Mine?”

“Yours. Caroline did online school senior year...she had a lot of free time and in her words ‘picked up an artistic hobby.’” She laughed, exhaling, touching the top of the baby book. “She made one and then made some copies for her parents, one for us...and one for you. She gave it to us as a Christmas present and gave us yours as well for safekeeping in case once you did find out...you would be angry like you are now for missing out on so much.”

“And the rest of those…” his eyes drifted towards the stack.

“Years 2 through well, his 7th birthday.” She said, reaching back and touching them. “Each one holds two years' worth of pictures, little notes, and memories. She put it together and at the end of the second year when the book is full, she gifts it as a Christmas present. If you ask me, I think she keeps up with it for you and just makes the copies for everyone else. I don’t know if it’s her way of trying to ignore the guilt she feels from keeping it a secret or if she’s officially turned into a craft woman...but she’s kept up with it. Hasn’t stopped.”

He looked back down at the baby book in his hands, his right thumb brushing against the pages of the book and his left brushing against the cover. “She never wanted to cut you out, Matthew. I think she always wanted you there...but she couldn’t let herself put her wants above you. And I know it’s no substitute for missing out on everything that you did...but it’s something.”

“Thanks, Mom…” he said, looking up from the book and holding it up slightly. “For this.”

“It’s the least I could do,” she nodded, leaning down and kissing his forehead before walking towards the door to leave. She turned around, looking at him as she sighed. “I’m really sorry, Matthew. We all are. And I know those are just words, but I really hope that through time you can forgive us.”

He nodded and watched as she walked out of his bedroom, closing the door behind her. He looked down at the book in his hands and then the books that were sitting at the edge of his bed. He slid out from beneath the comforter and placed the baby book on top of the other four, trying his best to carry all four in his right arm as he walked across the room and placed them on top of his dresser before walking back to his bed and climbing beneath the blankets and returning to Breaking Bad.

He picked up his phone and pressed Gio’s contact, listening to it ring before finally reaching the voicemail. He groaned and hung up, typing up a text instead before placing his phone down next to him and taking one last look at the books before looking back at the tv, interrupting his Breaking Bad episode and clicking onto Greys Anatomy, where he’d left off in season five, skipping George’s death and immediately going into season six.

He just needed time. Time and for Gio to answer his damn phone. Both of which, he guesses... go hand in hand at this point.

The sound of the generic iPhone ringtone erupted by Matt’s ear, almost causing him to fall out of bed. He hadn’t even known he fell asleep until he was waking up. He picked up the phone to see Gio’s name and the time— he’d only been asleep for almost two hours.

“Hello?” He asked, clearing his groggy voice as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“What kind of bullshit did you text me, Matt?” 

“Huh?” He yawned, stretching. “I kinda feel asleep and you woke me up so you’re gonna have to refresh my memory there a bit, Gio.”

“Oh sorry here,” Gio’s voice was dropped in sarcasm before he cleared his throat to speak. “My Mom just put seven years' worth of pictures in photo albums on my bed including Ethan’s baby book saying that Caroline made them for me what do I do???”

“Oh, that.”

“Oh that, yeah no shit that,” Gio said, no doubt rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone. “Please tell me you still have enough brain cells in that thick skull of yours to know what I’m about to tell you right now.”

“Um…” Matt looked off towards his dresser to see the stack of books still sitting where he’d left them. “That I’m being stupid and should look at them?”

“A much nicer way of putting it, but yeah pretty much.” Gio laughed. “Why did you even second guess looking at them, Chucky? Last time we talked you were wrecked about missing all of this and now that you have a chance to get a glimpse you’re not going to do it? Is this out of spite or something?”

“I may or may not have been hiding away and ignoring everyone for the last week,” Matt replied, running a hand down his face. “And I know you’re going to ream me out for that but...I just needed time, Gio.”

“You’re running out of time, Matt.” Gio laughed softly. “Every second that you spend wasting away in your room throwing yourself a pity party, is a second that you’re letting pass by to being able to spend time with Ethan and get to know him more. So look at the damn pictures, dude.”

“Alright, thanks Gio,” Matt said, getting out of bed and walking towards the dresser. “Sorry for the call and stupid text.”

“It’s no problem, I’m here for you, Matt.” He replied. “Oh, send me a picture of what Ethan looks like. I need to know if I need to say a little prayer for his Mom in case he’s literally a carbon copy of you.”

“Bye, Gio,” Matt laughed, hanging up the phone and tossing it over to his bed. He scooted the albums off of the dresser and held them steady in his right arm, still restricted from holding anything heavy in his left. He shuffled over to his bed and placed them down before sitting back down and getting back beneath his blanket.

At first, he questioned where he should start, but that quickly faded out when he realized that he literally had the first seven years all in front of him and it would clearly only make sense to start...at the beginning.

He picked up the baby book and rested it on his lap, right hand toying with the cover as he tried to push back the nerves he was feeling from even just holding it. When he finally got the nerve to open it, he was greeted with a picture of Ethan wrapped up in one of the generic hospital blankets and lying in a hospital bassinet, looking directly at whoever was taking the picture. Beneath it in nice cursive writing and dark marker, was a quote with an unknown author– “May you touch fireflies and stars, dance with fairies, and talk to the man in the moon. May you grow up with love and gracious hearts and people who care. Welcome to the world, little one. It’s been waiting for you.”

Matt flipped the page and was greeted with a light blue scrapbook paper that honestly part of him had a hard time believing Caroline ever put together. She was artistic, sure– but there was a reason why she never took art in high school. But his Mom said that she had a lot of free time...so maybe that’s why it all looked so good. In fancy script, flat in the middle of the page it read– “where my story begins…”

Matt flipped again and stopped, instantly seeing four different pictures of him and Caroline throughout the years. In the top left, was a picture from their first day of kindergarten. Both of them wearing backpacks that were much bigger than they were and the two were holding hands and sporting big toothy grins. The top right was a picture from the summer after sixth grade, the two of them sitting on the back of a boat out on the lake, arms over the other's shoulders as they ate popsicles. The bottom right was their freshman year of high school, both of them sporting their respective school team uniforms. Caroline had raced over to his school after her first field hockey win, to make sure she caught his first high school game. His arm around her waist and hers around his as she held her left hand right on his torso, the two of them smiling as they both looked equally as spent from their games. And the bottom left, the last picture was from junior prom when he flew in to surprise her. They were out at this park where kids from the schools always went to get big event pictures done for senior year or even just for prom. She was wearing a lavender, one-shoulder dress, the top half of it was decorated with small silver jewels and Matt was wearing a black tux with a matching bowtie. They were supposed to be doing the traditional prom pose, but Matt was smiling down at her and she was looking over her shoulder, smiling at him.

In the paper that the pictures bordered, at the very top was written– Mommy and Daddy: Our Story. And in Caroline’s familiar, neat handwriting, he read what she wrote:

We met when we were four years old at a park in our neighborhood. I was working very hard on creating the biggest sand pile that a four-year-old could muster when Daddy came running over, tripped, and fell into my pile, destroying it. We both cried and then he helped me build another one. We later became neighbors and best friends, always hanging out and playing together, spending summer days on the lake or out at the fields or rinks. But as we got older we realized that we were both hiding big secrets– we liked each other a lot! Daddy asked Mommy to be his girlfriend the same night as their first date at one of Grandpa Keith’s hockey games and we were inseparable from that point on. Mommy supported Daddy at his hockey games and Daddy supported Mommy at her field hockey games, we were each other’s biggest fans. Even when Daddy got chosen to play with some of the best hockey players in the country and had to move away during the school year, we loved and supported each other through the distance, remaining best friends and in love. We were each others' forever number one fans.

Matt flipped the page, seeing pictures of himself from when he was growing up, as well as pictures of his parents and siblings. Caroline had filled out this page as an About My Daddy page, listing all of Matthew’s favorite things– food, sports, candy, movies, music– and his other background information– where he was born, where he went to school, his siblings' names, his parents' names, grandparents names– the entire page was dedicated to him. And when he flipped to the next one, it was an About My Mommy page, similar to how his had been, but this time it was strictly about Caroline.

He flipped again and paused, focusing on the black and white images of Ethan’s sonogram. Beneath the two images, were two appointment cards from Planned Parenthood. On the left one, the date was a little faded, but when he looked close enough...he saw that it was the day she found out that she was pregnant and told Matt that she wasn’t. Next to it, was one that shared the same date as the date on the sonogram– two weeks later after she had told him her test was negative and in a sectioned off box in the top right, was Caroline’s handwriting again: 

When I found out about you, I was scared and had so many doubts. I was a teenager, what did I know about raising a baby? I could barely manage to come back home on time before curfew! But when I went in and heard your heartbeat and saw you for the first time, I felt a calm come over me. I was still terrified and knew nothing about being a Mommy, but already you were able to reach me in a way that only your Daddy could...and I knew that you were our little blessing.

The next page was a brighter blue of scrapbook paper and more of Ethan’s sonogram scans, what looked like a receipt to shake shack featuring...quite the list of items this time, a picture of Caroline’s baby bump and a big scrapbook patch that read, ‘it’s a boy’ sat in the middle and Caroline’s handwriting sat to the side of it: 

If I’m being honest with you, I had absolutely no idea what you were going to be. I just really wanted you to be healthy, that’s all that mattered to me. Grandpa Richard went with me to my appointment to find out who you were going to be. You surprised Mommy that morning because I went to bed and the next morning I woke up with a bump. Mommy’s doctor joked that you were ready to make yourself known to the world. Every time the tech went to try and get scans of you, you would always move around inside my belly and we all knew then that you were going to be quite a wild one. And when they told me that you were a boy, Mommy cried and I pictured you looking just like your Daddy. After the appointment, you were fussy and practically begging Mommy to get some french fries and a milkshake– great choice– so Grandpa Richard bought us some and you were very, very happy after that. That was a really rough day for Mommy, I cried a lot...but thinking about you always made me feel just a little bit better.

The date on the scans in this section of the book...Matt knew that date, God he’d never forget that date. It was when he was hours away from going to the airport to pick her up, only to receive a text from her saying that she wasn’t coming. That he couldn’t be distracted and that the two of them should focus on their own stuff– pretty much dumping him over text. He could still remember exactly how he felt and how he channeled all that anger, frustration, and heartbreak into hockey, but nothing ever made it feel better. The distractions only masked the pain he was feeling and most nights after practice, the only way he could ever help himself relax and feel better...was by hanging around the rink for a few minutes to an hour afterward and just take in the silence and the peacefulness that a clean sheet of ice brought. That day was the worst day of his life back then...and while he felt like he should still be holding onto that anger– somehow, after reading this...that day was taking on new meaning.

It was the day that he was expecting a son– Ethan.

The next few pages went over the cravings she had during her pregnancy, some maternity pictures she’d taken with Aunt Clara, and just talking about how the times he was most active were at night or whenever she was watching hockey or 20/20. He flipped through and came to another break with a light green scrapbook paper that had ‘Hello, Baby!’ in fancy script in dark marker, the famous Winnie the Pooh quote written beneath it– A grand adventure is about to begin! When he flipped it, he was greeted with two pictures of Caroline and Ethan. The one on top had Care elevated in a hospital bed, holding onto the bundled newborn Ethan, yawning and reaching up with his arm. The second, just beneath the first, was the same picture– only this time Ethan had a grip on her index finger and she was crying.

To the right, was her handwriting again: 

If there was anything that ever convinced Mommy that you were just like you Daddy, it’s the fact that you came 20 days earlier than you were supposed to. Daddy isn’t one for waiting either, he’s too eager and impatient. You were determined to make your way into the world, starting your journey the night before so by the time Mommy got to the hospital, she missed out on her epidural and it was already time for your delivery! Grandpa Richard, Grandma Susan, and Uncle Andrew were in the room with me, your Uncle being a little freaked out, but he did a great job of supporting me, he even volunteered to cut your umbilical cord. And when I heard you cry for the first time, I cried too because you were finally here and you were exactly how I pictured you– just like your Daddy.

Matt turned the page to see a bunch of pictures of a newborn Ethan being checked by nurses, screaming and crying like all newborns do as well as pictures of him wrapped up in a blanket and being held by Richard, Susan, and Andrew in the hospital room. On the next page, was a bigger picture of him swaddled up in a light blue blanket with a matching beanie, fast asleep. Beneath it, in an official-looking kind of template was everything about him and it only took Matt a few seconds to stop staring at the sleeping newborn version of the soon-to-be eight-year-old that he now knows, to even notice what it says: 

Ethan Matthew Marsh. Born: December 11th, 2015, 7:00 pm at St. Vincent’s Medical Center. Stats: 6 pounds 4 ounces, 19 inches long. Delivered by: Dr. Teresa Kendricks.

Beneath it, there was a longer box with Caroline’s handwriting: 

Mommy chose to name you Ethan because it means firm, strong, and that’s how I felt whenever I looked at you, so tiny in my arms. You made me feel strong. And your middle name is after your Daddy. Looking at you made me feel like I always did whenever I looked at your Daddy. You are the both of ours, but you are every bit of your Daddy’s son.

He’d been fighting them the entire time– the tears that were burning in his eyes. And the moment he read that, he was starting to lose the strength to keep them at bay, feeling a tear fall down his face as he quickly brushed it away.

His middle name was Matthew. She remembered that silly conversation they had way back when Ethan was still a question mark. She named him after him.

It took everything in him to finish through the rest of the book, reading up on Ethan’s trip home, his first bath, his first haircut, his favorite toys and food, first holidays, first word, first outing, first tooth, growth chart– Caroline had kept an organized and meticulous scrapbook of every piece of Ethan’s firsts and the entire first year. Matt would be lying if he said that seeing the pictures of a baby Ethan with his parents and siblings didn’t hurt him, because it did. Looking through this entire book and realizing that he could’ve been a part of this entire journey, but wasn’t...hurt like hell.

But that hurt was eased...because at least he got to see it and read in Caroline’s own words, her experience of carrying and having Ethan. At the end of the book, was a plastic cd sleeve, but inside of it was a flash drive. He reached in and grabbed it before resting the book aside and reaching out to his bedside table for his laptop. He plugged it in and waited for the USB drive to load, clicking on it once he did. And when he opened it, he was greeted with tons of video files– all labeled with Ethan’s name.

He clicked on the first one– Ethan’s first steps– and watched as an 8-month-old Ethan was using his hands to balance against the couch he recognized from the Marsh’s living room. Voices of everyone in the background mingled in and from the left side of the frame, Caroline was squatted down with her arms out in front of her, a smile on her face. Ethan was bouncing himself on his feet, smiling at her before he turned away from the couch and took shaky steps towards her, quickening up before walking into her arms as she hugged him and picked him up, cheering him on.

The second one– Ethan’s first word– and in this one, was a 10-month-old Ethan who was dressed in a dark blue and teal striped onesie, propped up on Caroline’s hip and resting his head against her shoulder. He had a half-empty baby bottle curled inside of his arm as the hand of the arm draped on her shoulder, was twirling a piece of her hair. “Okay, Ethan it’s time to go night night, are you ready to say goodnight?” Caroline smiled, bouncing him on her hip as he nodded, looking off at something that the camera couldn’t see.

The camera panned towards the wall they were standing in front of to show a bunch of pictures– he didn’t recognize the walls of the house, so this had to be the apartment she said she had moved to when she started school. Caroline pointed at all of the pictures, saying ‘goodnight…’ before pausing and hoping that Ethan would fill in the blanks before filling it in for him. She’d gone through her parents, his parents, Brady, Andrew, and Taryn before coming to one last picture.

“Goodnight…” she paused, tickling his tummy as he squirmed slightly a smile on her face before waving at the wall. “Goodnight, Mommy, and say goodnight,” she took a dramatic pause, looking at Ethan as he reached for the picture, waving again.

“Daddy.” Ethan smiled, looking at her as he raised his head off of her shoulder.

“Yes, Ethan, yay!” She smiled, hugging him as she pointed at the picture again. “That’s Mommy and that’s–”

“Daddy.” He smiled, making a grabby hand at the picture before looking at her and bringing his hands into his chest, resting his head in the crook of her neck. “Ight, Daddy.”

Which Matt knew he probably meant to say, ‘Goodnight, Daddy’ like Caroline had been trying to get him to say.

“Good boy, you’re so smart!” She smiled, resting a hand on the back of his head as she looked at the camera with tears in her eyes. “Such a smart boy, that’s your Daddy. Now blow a kiss,” she mimicked blowing a kiss at the picture frame and Ethan did the same, throwing his arm out before wrapping them both around her neck and trying to climb up her as if he was telling her he wanted to go to bed now.

She nodded towards the frame and smiled as she rocked Ethan, the camera moving toward the frame to show that it was the same Junior prom picture of Matt and Caroline.

The rest of the videos were from his first holidays, first time in a pool, his first laugh and smile– Caroline had videotaped every moment that she could...and put it on a flash drive. The firsts, the little moments in between— everything was marked down in his baby book or saved as a video on this flash drive.

“She never wanted to cut you out, Matthew. I think she always wanted you there…” his mom’s voice echoed in his mind as he removed the flash drive and put it back into the sleeve in the baby book.

She wrote all about him in Ethan’s baby book. She chose Matthew as his middle name from a conversation they had years ago. Ethan’s first word...was Daddy and he said it during what Matt could only assume was a routine Caroline and him did every night. He knew who Matt was, he recognized his face in the picture. How involved had he been in the early years of Ethan’s life without knowing and if Caroline had been deliberately keeping him a secret all these years...why bothering showing Ethan anything about Matt at all?

He set the baby book aside and spent the entire rest of his night flipping through the photo albums from Ethan’s second year to his seventh. It was pictures of all the family members with Ethan, days at the park, times at the zoo. Ethan wearing what looked like itchy holiday sweaters and shoving Christmas cookies into his mouth wearing a Santa hat. The first album looked like it was when Ethan picked up hockey, swallowed whole in Matt’s Dad’s old jerseys with a big smile on his face— holding hockey sticks, being on skates, wearing a helmet.

His first day of kindergarten picture had Matt flipping back open the baby book and sure enough, the two of them had matching dimpled grins. School trips and friends, birthday parties, and hockey games. Summers on the beach, most likely in Florida. With each passing picture, he watched Ethan grow up, learning little tidbits from the small notes Caroline wrote in given margins.

At four, “Ethan fell asleep underneath the Christmas tree to try and catch Santa Claus. Stole the milk and cookies so Santa would have to stay longer.”

At six, “Brady and Andrew convinced Ethan that if he took his loose tooth out by using the string and door trick, the tooth fairy would give him $10. They both paid up $5 that I put under his pillow.”

At two, “Ethan’s first time on the ice today with Papa Walt, who said that watching him reminded him of Matthew, I might’ve cried...a lot.”

At five, “His teacher, Mrs. Shepherd sent home a note saying that Ethan absolutely refuses to take his naps and won’t stop talking about the players his Papa Walt told him about. She said it provides great entertainment to the teachers in the lounge and that he might be a little tired when he gets home.”

At three, “Took a trip to the zoo and Ethan stood in front of the tiger exhibit playing with one of the younger tigers for 10 minutes. They ran back and forth in front of the glass until Ethan tripped and fell. Tiger stopped and pawed at the glass but Ethan just giggled, got up, and tried to hug the tiger through the glass before running again.”

And at seven, “Brady took Ethan around the Blues locker room after the game tonight, introduced him to Colton Parayko, and said Ethan ‘called him a giant’ before asking for an autograph.”

By the time he reached the end of the last photo album, Matt no longer had the strength to hold back the tears that had been building up from the moment he opened Ethan’s baby book. He lost it way back by the time he opened the second photo album. But now that he was done looking, he could just bury his head into his hands and just...cry.

It was like all of the frustration, anger, and sadness was releasing from him both as he sat there, stifling sobs as he felt the tears run down his face. There was no way to pinpoint what he was crying about because he was crying about everything. The fact that he and Caroline had been so reckless as teens and she ended up feeling like she needed to keep Ethan a secret. Ethan having knowledge of who he was, even in those younger days. Seeing his parents and siblings holding him in pictures. Seeing himself in pictures of Ethan and wondering how he never saw it before. How he had missed all of those big moments, small moments, and little quirks Ethan developed along the way. Desperately wanting to make memories with him that would be implanted in photo albums for years to come. 

Matt just cried and cried until he physically felt like he couldn’t sit up anymore...and then he fell asleep.

He woke up the next morning with a throbbing head— hell, his entire body was throbbing. He sent a text asking if they could push PT back to around noon since he wasn’t feeling too hot and needed a few more minutes of sleep. In reality, he just really wanted to go stand beneath the hot water of his shower for some time to try and ease some of the pain throughout his entire body.

It was a struggle to get himself out of bed, sleeping in an awkward position since he fell asleep with Ethan’s photo albums and baby book on his bed. He carefully picked them up before walking them over to the dresser and resting them down, then opening his bedroom door and going out into the hall.

If it was an option to be able to just stay in the shower all day, Matt was positive that he could and would do it. It wasn’t that he was still avoiding the problems that waited outside of his bedroom door, it was the fact that the hot water washing over him put everything at ease. He felt his entire body stop throbbing, his nose felt clear, his eyes weren’t sore...he just felt better.

When he finished his shower, he went back to his room and got dressed for PT, picking his phone up from his bed and remembering that he never sent Gio a picture of Ethan. He walked over to the dresser, opened the book to the picture of Ethan when he was two, and draped in one of Matt’s Dad’s old jersey, smiling, and took a picture of it. He opened his messages with Gio and attached that picture, along with two from Halloween— one of him and Ethan smiling at the camera and then the other of them laughing at each other- and then a picture from Caroline’s Instagram of her and Ethan.

Matt: What’s the verdict, Cap? He as much as a carbon copy as you thought? 😂

Gio: HOLY SHIT. 😳😂

Gio: Just going to go ahead and throw up a small prayer that the both of you don’t drive that girl of yours insane...

Gio: He’s a cute kid, Chucky. Thankfully he looks like he’s got some of his Mom, otherwise, the world would be scary with two Chucky’s wandering around.

Gio: Now keep your head out of your ass and get to know him more!

Matt: Will do! My head is going nowhere near my ass from now on. Hope to introduce you someday!

Gio: Looking forward to it! Can’t wait to tell them all the stories I have on you.

Matt smiled, sending a laughing emoji before getting up to leave his room, Gio’s last text stuck in his mind— how he can’t wait to tell them all the stories of Matt— them as in Ethan and Caroline. Which was funny...because that’s exactly who he pictured when Matt had said he hoped to introduce Gio one day...Ethan and Caroline.

PT was actually a lot easier today. Whether it was because the healing process was going great or because he as a whole just felt so much lighter, he didn’t know. But he did, he felt better than he did the entire week..and that had to count for something.

When he got back home, he walked into the kitchen to see his Mom and Dad standing at the island counter, a plate out with two pieces of bread on the plate and the supplies to make a peanut butter and jelly out beside it. They stopped their conversation when they heard Matt come in and they all paused.

“How was physical therapy today?” His Mom asked, resting an arm around his Dad.

“It was good,” Matt replied, walking by them and to the fridge, grabbing a cold Gatorade. “The new stretches and stuff are obviously tough...but it’s getting easier.” He walked back and stopped at the end of the counter, nodding at the plate. “Is that for Ethan or you?”

“Ethan,” his Dad replied. “They’ve got a game in a bit and he and Caroline are coming over just before.”

Matt nodded, opening the bottle. Things may have felt better with him, but there was obviously still some tension. “Can I go?”

His parents looked at each other in surprise before his Mom walked from around the counter and gently squeezed his arm. “Of course you can, sweetie. I’m sure Caroline and Ethan would love that.”

“Speaking of,” his Dad said, brushing his hands off on a paper towel. “I’ve got to go meet him out on the sidewalk, would you like to come with me, Matt?”

Matt nodded, holding onto his Gatorade bottle as he followed him out of the kitchen and the front door, out down their front steps and driveway before stopping at the sidewalk just beside their mailbox. “So...why are you standing here, exactly?”

“Ethan’s been wanting a little more freedom in the neighborhood,” he replied, motioning towards Caroline’s house. “Wants to walk to the park, or ride his bike with his friends up and down the street, but obviously he’s a little too young to do that without supervision. Things are how they used to be back when I was a kid or when you guys were kids.”

“So you wait here and watch him walk?”

“That was Caroline’s one condition. He could walk over to our house or the Marsh’s, but only if could get someone to agree to stand there and wait for him. Make sure he actually got there.”

“That’s...actually pretty smart,” Matt replied, taking a sip of his drink. “Who knows all of the times Brady, Care, and I ended up wandering off where we shouldn’t have been.”

“Which is exactly why she did it,” he laughed, digging his hands in his pockets as he sighed. “Listen, I know you’re upset with all of us and you have a very good reason to be. But I just want you to know that what she did...was as much of a good decision as it was bad.”

Matt furrowed his brows and looked at him, tilting his head, but before he could speak, he was cut off. “Papa Walt!!” They looked down the street to see Ethan jogging down his driveway as Caroline followed behind him. “Matt, hi!!”

As soon as he started to run in their direction, Matt moved his gaze to Caroline who was standing at the other end of the sidewalk. She had her arms crossed and he couldn’t tell, but she might've been looking at him too.

“I know it’s hard to understand right now, but you need to realize that at that point in time, what she chose to do was right.” His Dad said, looking at him. “Waiting this long, none of us agreed with it or wanted it to happen. But those first few months...it seemed to be the right thing.”

Matt couldn’t reply because Ethan had reached them, immediately wrapping his arms around Matt’s waist and almost knocking him over. “Oomph!” Matt laughed, bending down and hugging him. “Maybe you should be playing football, huh?”

“My mom says I can’t,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “She says I’ll get run over.”

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Matt’s Dad laughed as Ethan moved over to him, hugging him.

“I’ve seen you every day, Papa Walt,” Ethan replied, looking at Matt. “Are you feeling better?”

Matt looked at his Dad before looking back at Ethan, nodding. “Yeah, a lot better. I heard you have a game today.”

“Yeah, I’m excited.” He smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “We’re still undefeated and so are they, but I think we’ll win.”

“Well I can’t wait to see you play,” Matt smiled, holding out a fist.

“You’re coming?!” He asked, eyes wide.

“Only if you want me to,” Matt laughed, shrugging.

“Uh, duh!” He hugged Matt again and he was caught just as off guard as he had been before...but he didn’t mind. He loved it.

“Alright come on, we’ve got a pre-game sandwich to make.” Matt’s Dad laughed, walking towards the driveway.

“Uh, you guys go ahead,” Matt looked down the street to see that Caroline was walking back towards her front door. “I’m gonna go talk to Care for a second.”

“Be careful, she’s grouchy,” Ethan said, scrunching his nose.

“Why? What did you do?” Matt’s dad asked, looking down at him.

“I didn’t do anything.” He replied, shaking his head.

Matt raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Really?”

Ethan chewed on the inside of his cheek before pursing his lips and sighing. “Fine. I got in trouble in school yesterday. Mrs. Rumer called and told her I was talking during reading time.” He looked between the two of them, shaking his head. “But I was only trying to tell Melody about what happened in my book!”

“Melody, huh?” Matt smiled as his Dad laughed and Ethan ducked his head.

“Papa Walt, he’s being mean to me,” he pouted, pointing at Matt.

“He’s just teasing, Ethan. He used to do it to Brady all the time.” His dad laughed, patting his shoulder.

“Besides that, it sounds like you really are a blabbermouth and you say I talk too much.” Matt laughed.

“You talk more than—“

Matt watched as his Dad placed a hand over Ethan’s mouth, Ethan still trying to talk though it only came out in mumbles. “All right, relax we’re going to eat now.”

“As long as Matt doesn’t cut the sandwich,” Ethan said, squinting at him. “He tried to ruin my ritual.”

“One time!” Matt replied, waving him off as he started to walk down to Caroline’s. “It was one time and you didn’t tell me.”

“Yeah, well now you know!” Ethan called out. “And the next time you do it, I’ll know it was on purpose!”

Matt just laughed as he watched his Dad usher Ethan up the driveway and towards the front door. He took Ethan’s warning into consideration but knew that if Caroline was grouchy or upset, it probably had very little to do with Ethan talking during reading time in class. He was stuck between wanting to get to her house as quick as he could and taking his time, going over in his head all of the things he wanted to and needed to say. Their last conversation didn’t really play out all that well, so how could he be any sure that she would even feel comfortable letting him get a single word in?

When she reached her front porch, he took a calming breath and rang the doorbell. It only took a few seconds before the door opened and Caroline stood in front of him, a knowing look on her face as if she had been expecting him. “Hi.” She said softly, stepping to the side. “Do you want to come in?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Matt replied, walking in through the doorway and standing off to the side as she closed the door. “Listen, Care I–”

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “A-and I know that sorry isn’t good enough and that things kind of...got crazy on Thanksgiving. It’s all my fault and I’ll take full responsibility for that, but please don’t go back to Calgary and don’t shut everyone out and Ethan...please. You can hate me all you want...just, don’t take it out on them.”

“I could never hate you, Care,” he said, his eyebrows furrowed as he shook his head. “I mean, I’m upset, yeah...but I could never hate you. You were it for me...you’re my best friend.”

He watched as she let out a shuddered breath she must’ve been holding as she nodded, sniffling slightly as he held back tears. “God, I’m a mess I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, really.” He said, stepping towards her and resting his hands on his arms, nodding at her. “I just...I needed some time to think. I was never going back to Calgary, I...I couldn’t leave after...everything.”

“So you’re staying?” She asked, hugging her arms against her chest. “I-I mean...until you’re done with physical therapy?”

He nodded, letting his hands brush against the sleeves of her sweatshirt before they dropped back to his sides. “Yeah, until I’m cleared to play, I’m staying.”

“Ethan will be glad to hear that,” she smiled sadly, nodding. “He...he was pretty upset after Thanksgiving and I just...after talking to you it dawned on me that I’ve fucked up so bad Matt. With you and with him…”

“He needs to know, Care,” Matt said, resting his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts. “It’s hard to look at him and know that he doesn’t know…”

“He goes on winter break the week after his birthday, so he won’t have school. Would you come over and we could sit down and talk to him?” She asked, looking scared like Matt might turn her down.

“Sure, whatever you want.” Matt nodded. “Though, do you think we should do it more into January? ‘Cause of Christmas and all? I don’t really want to ruin Christmas…”

“Okay, January.” She smiled, letting her arms drop from around her. “He has a game today, would you like to go?”

“I am,” he nodded his head towards the door. “And I also got chirped about me trying to ruin his pre-game ritual on purpose.”

She laughed, exhaling deeply. “Yeah, he’s pretty serious about his pb&j’s. But he’s just like you were with your gross undershirt. Anytime you had to replace it, it had to be cut exactly two inches away from the collar and then ripped around until it looked all raggy.”

“Hey, it's worked for me so far, so I’m sticking to it.” Matt laughed, rolling his eyes, looking towards the door. “We should probably go meet them back at the house...unless you’re driving?”

“Actually, Ethan and I ride with your parents,” she laughed, grabbing her purse from the dining room table. “Sometimes we go for dinner afterward if the game starts and ends at a decent time.”

He opened the door and walked out onto the front porch with her following behind them, waiting as she locked the door behind her before the two of them walked down the front steps and down the driveway, making their way back to Matt’s parent's home. It was silent between them as he kicked away a small rock off of the sidewalk and into the street. It wasn’t awkward though, they never had an awkward moment of silence– it was always comfortable like it was now...but still, it’s been so long since the two of them had seen each other, the last thing he wanted to do was walk in silence.

When they reached the Tkachuks’ driveway, he saw his window closing to talk and ask the question he was dying to know. So before she could walk up the driveway and to the front door, he grabbed her hand, stopping her. “His middle name is Matthew,” he said as she turned to look at him. “You gave him my name…”

She looked shocked to see that he knew that information, but then she nodded and smiled softly. “Matthew Jr...remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he nodded, rocking back on his heels. “He never mentioned it…”

“Did you ask him for his full name?” She laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“Well...no, I guess not.” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “My Mom...she gave me the baby book and photo albums you made for me. That was really...thank you.”

She nodded, the guilty look returning on her face. “It was really the least I could do, Matt...considering everything.”

“Yeah, but all of those copies? That’s...that was just really kind of you. Especially the baby book. I don’t know how you made a good copy of your hospital bracelet and stuff.”

“It’s not a copy,” she replied, shaking her head. “You got the original...you got all of the originals. Our parents and mine are the copies.”

He stopped and blinked at her. “You gave me the original? But...why?”

“Because you’re his Dad, Matt. And you missed so much in that first year...I just wanted you to have something when the time came.” She spoke softly, crossing her arms as she looked at him. “Did you find the flash drive?”

He nodded, taking his hands out of his pockets as he crossed his arms. “His first word was Daddy, Care. How did he know who I was?”

“That was our nightly routine up until he turned two, Matt,” she said, looking at him. “Ever since he was born...I’ve always pointed you out in pictures and told him who you were.”

“But...why? I-I mean, I don’t get it,” Matt said, letting his arms drop by his sides as he shook his head. “He doesn’t remember obviously because he told me he’s never met his Dad...but you told him back then and then kept it hush. Why, Care?”

“Because I planned on telling you when you were home for those few days around Christmas and I wanted him to be able to recognize you,” she replied, holding her arms tighter against herself. “I came over and I had him with me and I was just...so nervous, but your Mom answered the door and said you were Christmas shopping with Taryn...and I went back home. That was the closest I came to telling you and it just...it didn’t work out.”

He looked at her and could see the guilt over their last conversation and her decision from all those years ago was taking its toll on her since he last saw her. She looked stressed and tired, her hair was tied up into a quick bun and she was dressed in leggings and a Boston U sweatshirt that Brady probably got for her. He was still mad and upset, and he knew that it would be a while before he really got over it at all...but he kept hearing Gio’s words in his head: “Every second that you spend wasting away in your room throwing yourself a pity party, is a second that you’re letting pass by to being able to spend time with Ethan and get to know him more.”

And Gio was right. He could internalize those feelings and let them waste him away, but that wouldn’t be helping anything. He sat with them, he heard them out– and sure, he still felt those same feelings he did from the moment he found out about what they’d all done...but that was perfectly okay. But what wasn’t okay, was to shut them out and let it eat away at him while he let more time pass by. Time, which right now was rare on his usual schedule, that he could be using to hear the memories his family and the Marsh’s made with Ethan. To get to know Ethan better and spend more time with him. Where he could pick up right where he left off with Caroline and spend as much time as he had back home with her and Ethan.

But he couldn’t do any of that if he was distancing himself away from all of them.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her carefully as if he was waiting for her to push him away at any moment. Instead, he felt her arms move away from where they were pressed into his stomach and wrapped them around his waist, hugging him back. For a moment, he felt like they were those kids again, hugging goodbye for the last time in the St. Louis airport and part of him didn’t want to let go now, scared that like back then– things would change and go wrong.

“I want to get to know him, Care,” he mumbled, turning and resting his left cheek on top of her head. “Please, let me get to know him. I want to know my son.”

“Yes,” Caroline nodded as she sniffled softly, resting her head against his chest. “Whatever you want to do, Matt, we’ll do it.”

The two of them pulled away and laughed, taking in the other’s tear-stained face. “God, is this what happens when you become a parent? Do you cry all of the time?”

“Pretty much,” she laughed, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

He reached up and wiped the tears off of her cheeks with his thumbs before they heard the door open. They both looked towards it to see Ethan running down the steps, Matt’s parents drifting behind him. “Hurry up, people! We’ve got a game to go to!”

“Ethan, patience,” she laughed, Ethan, coming to a stop in front of them. “What’s in your hand?”

“Mimi said to give this to Matt since he’s,” his face scrunched up as he turned around. “What did you say about Matt, Mimi? That the cold will shrink his brain?”

“If he goes just wearing those shorts and a t-shirt he will,”  his Mom laughed, coming up to join them as his Dad pulled the car out of the garage and came up beside them.

“Yeah, what Mimi said,” Ethan said, shoving the sweatshirt at Matt. “Don’t want a brain freeze.”

“At least I can sit in a normal seat,” Matt teased, opening the back passenger side door and letting Caroline climb in and move all the way over to the left side of the van as his Mom got into the front passenger seat.

“Once I grow seven more inches, I can!” He replied, climbing into the car and sitting down onto his booster seat that was resting in the middle backseat. “Right, Momma? Tell Matt once I get taller I don’t have to use my booster seat anymore.”

“Don’t let him bother you, sweetie,” she replied, watching him as he reached to buckle up his seatbelt and made sure that he was secure before leaning into him and smiling at Matt. “He had to use a booster seat until he was 10.”

Ethan turned to Matt with a big smile as Matt got into the car and closed the door behind him. “Ha! You were short too, so now you can’t tease me about it because you were 10.”

“Yeah, well your Mom had to use one too, don’t let her fool you,” Matt replied, buckling up as his Dad started to back out of the driveway.

“Children, are we done bickering, or should I sit in the driveway?” His Dad asked, looking at them in the backseat.

“We’re done, I promise,” Ethan said, nodding his head. “We can’t be late, Papa Walt. I’ll have to do laps.”

“Don’t worry Ethan, that was directed towards your–” Matt’s Dad paused on the word ‘parents’ and he smiled, looking at him through the rearview mirror. “Your Mother and Matthew. 26 years old and you two still chirp like you’re 12, step up your game.”

The three of them laughed as they continued to pull out of the driveway and down the street. “Papa Walt?”

“Yes, Ethan?”

“Can I request a song, please?” He asked, resting back against the backrest.

“Sure, what would you like to listen to?” Matt’s Mom asked, turning to look at him.

Ethan turned to Matt, a smile on his face. “Do you want to listen to a certain song?”

“Um...I don’t know, how about Another One Bites the Dust? That’s a good pre-game song,” Matt replied, nodding. “We listen to it from time to time on our warm-up playlist.”

Ethan nodded, looking back to Matt’s Dad. “Papa Walt, don’t play that. Can you play Don’t Stop Believin’ instead.”

Matt’s jaw dropped as his parents and Caroline laughed. “Sure thing, buddy.”

Ethan turned back to Matt, a one dimpled smirk on his face. “We can play your song afterward...but mine is better, sorry.”

Before Matt could reply, he felt his phone vibrate and he looked down to see a text from Caroline.

Care Marsh 🐻: Forgot to tell you...he’s just as sassy as you.

Matt: I’m not sassy 🙄

Care Marsh 🐻: Says the guy who picked on an almost 8-year-old for his booster seat.

Matt: I called him short, there’s a difference.

Care Marsh 🐻: Says the shorter Tkachuk brother 🙂

Matt laughed and Ethan looked at him in curiosity. “Why are you laughing?”

“I was looking at your seat, sorry,” Matt said, sending a look to Caroline who gave him a knowing smile.

“I’m going to grow taller, I swear!” Ethan whined, leaning his head back as he crossed his arms and then looked at Caroline. “Right, Momma?”

“Right, sweetie.” She replied, sending Matt a ‘stop picking on him’ look.

“How tall are you, Matt?” Ethan asked, looking over at him.

“6’2”.’

Ethan got a cocky smirk on his face that gave Matt chills up his arms and spine because he knew that smirk– it was his smirk. “Well, I’m going to be 6’3” so you’ll be shorter than me.” He crossed his arms and shrugged, his smirk still on his face. “Watch.”

“Okay, Ethan,” Matt laughed, sending Caroline a small shrug as he smiled back at Ethan and his phone vibrated to show another message from Caroline.

Care Marsh 🐻: Well...Brady is 6’4” and he is half-Tkachuk...so who knows, he could end up being taller than his Dad 🤔

Matt: 😑

taglist [if striked through, it won’t let me tag you 🥺] :

@hockeybabe87 @nolanscheeks @hey-there9-its-me @besthockeyfics​ @hockeyshmockey @sidscrosbyy @hockeystop @hannabritta @robschwartzman @ipuckwithwriting @tkachuk-yeah @luvsherleafs @heyheyheyhayes @oilers2997 @cutiesara23 @glassdanse @annedub @notaccurateornice @art-m-anic @corrinereads @reavenedges-lies @lwstuff​ @whatishockey​ @mydarkestsecretlol​ @dorotheathe1 @barzyspov​ @dutch-tv-fan​ @dude-44 @wastedheartcth​ @sorryjustafangirl @turnoutthecitylights​ @teenagekook​ @precioustk​ @lorrmorr​ @linkingdolans​ @starswin​ @himbos-on-ice​ @shawnsreputation @heatherawoowoo​ @usmileismile @hockey-and-wine​ @brehonodea​ @ggggmoneyyyy​ @majdoline​ @hiimjaredim19 @aesterins @adelaidestreets​ @idkalexaaw​ @u-4-ia​ @jennielynnie @miss-cap21 @itrocksmysocks @spencereidbasis @b34ut1fulb4st4rds​ @withthelightoff @dreamer1430​ @predshockeyfan @joelsfarabee​​

[troubatrain]

tis the damn season - m. tkachuk

a/n: as we all know, i am an absolute whore for a christmas fic and when i listened to evermore yesterday i knew this needed to be done. i literally haven’t written anything this fast in forever but i hope you guys like it!! (also tagging @igor-shestyorkin​ @blueskrugs​ & @fenwaynightlights​ for reading this last night and telling me it was good so i’d actually finish it ily)

The second you walked into the party, Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you. He knew you were coming, but watching you step into his parent’s house with a plate of your famous chocolate chip cookies and a smile that made his heart skip a beat, was almost taunting him. You dated forever ago, the last real relationship Matthew had ever been in, and by the looks of it - it was staying like that. You greeted everyone, down to the biggest hug to his grandparents who swore you were going to be Matthew’s wife one day. That was because that’s just how you were, kind and smart and constantly impressing anyone who Matthew introduced you too. Every teammate he had at the time loved you, and he knew if you were in Calgary his team now would be the same. Brady adored you, even admitting to his brother he still called you for girl advice because if Matthew fumbled the bag when it came to you there was no way Brady should take his advice. Matthew couldn’t even think about your relationship with his sister, or how crushed she was when you broke up. Then there was his parents, his mom swore it would be okay. That it was just Matthew’s first love and eventually he’d find his forever but he knew she was lying. Matthew found forever with you, and he let it implode because his dream was just more important at the time. Now, he could be at the top of the world and none of it mattered because you weren’t by his side.

Matthew just felt dumb now, because you were on to bigger and better things and you weren’t hung up on your high school ex-boyfriend. You went off to college, crushed it, and moved back into St. Louis with a near perfect job offer and success practically radiating off of you. He was standing in his kitchen in the worst Bud Light Christmas sweater like an eighteen year old frat boy and you looked every bit like the goddess Matthew knew you were. The perfect Christmas red dress you were wearing sat on your frame flawless, and it was obvious that red was still your color.

“I can leave if you want me to?” You ask, leaning into Matthew when you finally made your way over to him. Your voice was low, mouth close to Matthew’s ear while you hugged him so no one could hear you ask. You were an infinitely better person than he was, so of course you asked him if it was okay to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” Matthew answers, sipping his beer for some liquid courage he desperately needed.

“Just because your mom invites me doesn’t mean I need to be here,” You shrug, “Maybe you’ve got someone here…”

He would never. Matthew had never even considered it, what it would be like to bring someone home that wasn’t you. There wasn’t one person in Calgary who could measure up, and despite the fact that his family loved him and would accept anyone with open arms, deep down Matthew knew you would always be on their minds.

“I don’t,” Matthew says, trying to stop himself from wrapping his arm around your waist while you stand with your chest still pressed against his from your hello hug, “I mean what would be the point? They don’t make cookies like you do.”

Matthew had to joke, cover up the fact that he was never able to let go of what you had and choke it down with beer he was drinking. He liked seeing you, the same times he did every year. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the occasional summer BBQ was something he looked forward to, sometimes he even hoped for an extra reason for you to both be somewhere. He knew you’d come, because you wouldn’t dare deny his mother’s invitation.

“Of course you noticed I made them,” You rolled your eyes, pushing Matthew back jokingly, “Remember when you used to beg me to make them-”

You stopped yourself when you noticed where this was going, you never brought up the before times. The times when Matthew would give you his best puppy dog eyes for you to bake him something, followed by a plea to just look the other way when he devoured the entire plate.

“Maybe it’s best we broke up, I probably never would’ve gotten drafted by eating these,” Matthew teases, sliding past you to grab a cookie off the counter and taking a big bite, “Because fuck these are good.”

Matthew’s moans in delight sent a chill up your spine. You hated that he could still do that to you, because it was the same thing every time. You’d see him, and for a moment you’d think that this would work itself out. You could get back together, and falling in love would be just as sweet a second time, but it wouldn’t work. You were settling into your own, a fresh lease signed in your new apartment you were going to move into after New Year’s, and Matthew was going to go back to Calgary where he was a big deal. That was always the dream, to make it big in the league and make his parents proud. Matthew was doing it, not that you ever doubted him, but you were proud nonetheless.

The thing was, because Matthew was doing the damn thing, he gave up you. It was like a deal he made with the devil when he was seventeen, he could have everything he ever wanted if he didn’t have you to hold him back. You always knew that was why he broke up with you, it was the right person at the wrong time.

“It’s nice to see you Matthew,” You muse, biting the inside of your cheeks to hold back the grin on your face. You stopped the conversation before it started, constantly trying to make this as painless as possible, but it wasn’t always easy.

“Wait, uh, you’re going to be here until Christmas right?” Matthew asks, grabbing your attention before you slipped out of the kitchen. Matthew was hopeful, catching a flight a few days earlier than he usually could and landing before Christmas gave him more time to see you.

“I’ll be at my parents house,” You nod, thinking about your childhood bedroom that was currently covered in moving boxes while you waited to settle into your new place.

“Oh sweet,” Matthew takes another swing of his drink, trying to keep his cool because you were the only person who made him completely uncool.

“Yeah, sweet, I’ll see you around,” You wave, disappearing into the kitchen. Matthew takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts for a minute until Brady stepped in front of him. His little brother scoffed, a stupid smirk on his face when he finally spoke.

“Dude that was painful to watch.”

***

Matthew had no idea what the fuck he was doing. His feet were just carrying all two hundred and two pounds of his body in the exact direction of your house. He was drunk, well over the limit of how many whiskey shots he could even handle. He looked at his watch, it was almost three in the morning but if he didn’t get it out now when would he ever. He loved you, and all he could think about is what would happen if he could have just had one more night with you. Maybe you’d feel it, you’d always been pretty intuitive with his feelings, because he was awful with them. He had to make his case, did he even have one?

Oh hey Y/N, I know I’m hammered and it’s three in the morning the day before Christmas Eve but I want you to know I’m still in love with you.

That wouldn’t work, and he was going to have to do better than that. He could turn around and go home, but if he had to watch another one of your Instagram stories and pray that whoever was in them wasn’t your boyfriend again - he would lose his mind before he made it to the holidays next year. He snuck past the gate into your yard, not surprised to see your whole house was sleeping quietly. He picked up a few pebbles from your mother’s garden, shaking them in his hand and hoping you remembered the way he let you know he was outside when you’d sneak out in high school.

One.

Two.

Three.

You were woken up by the sound of three pebbles hitting your window, and you rub your eyes in disbelief by what you were hearing. Matthew wasn’t outside your window at three in the morning looking for you, why would he even think about it? 

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, poking your head out the window and crossing your arms to battle the cool air blowing through.

“Come down?” Matthew asks, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans and giving you his best smile. A real one, because you’d always been able to tell when it was fake.

You should’ve closed the window, and pushed Matthew to the back of your mind until you found yourself creeping on his Instagram again. You were always a good listener, and you always tried to do the right thing but Matthew was your vice. He’d always been a little bit a bad boy, but never enough to stop you from coming back for more. So you opened your window a little more, slipping down and scaling down your house just like you used to.

Matthew could have pretended like he didn’t notice, his last name faded on the back of the hoodie you were wearing, but he couldn’t. You looked just as cute in it as you did all of those years before, “Seven was such a good number on you, I wish I could have kept it.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, hoping Matthew couldn’t catch it in the moonlight, “Why are you here?”

“I want one more night,” Matthew takes a deep breath, standing his ground, “I, uh fuck-”

Matthew Tkachuk had never been good with words. He put his foot in his mouth, all the time, but his plea was something you never thought you’d hear. It was Christmas, you were lonely, and a part of you wondered the same thing. So you said fuck it and decided that this was your problem later, pressing your lips to Matthew’s. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to get as close to him as you could. Matthew was dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Can you be quiet?” You ask, pointing at the back door. It was the middle of the night and your parents room was on the first floor but if Matthew was quiet enough you could get him upstairs easily - you used to do it all the time.

Matthew nodded eagerly, following you inside and tip-toeing up the stairs. He was doing a terrible job, either he’d gotten bigger or the floors in your parents house had gotten creakier.

“You said you could be quiet,” You tease, letting Matthew push you against the door, he twisted the lock, smirking at you.

“I’m a lot bigger than I used to be,” Matthew declares, fake puffing out his chest.

“I noticed…” You muse, running over your hands over his shoulders. He’d gotten broader with age, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. You press your lips to his, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers crept up to his curls, tugging on them slightly. Matthew smirked against your lips, “I missed that.”

“I missed you,” Matthew mutters, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you to your bed. You squeal, tucking your head into shoulder to stop the noise, “Who’s the loud one now?”

“Well don’t stop kissing me then,” You tease, grabbing Matthew and pulling him on top of you. You worked quickly, a pile of clothes in the corner of your that was going to be addressed later. Matthew’s lips were on your neck, his finger circling your clit while you bit your lip hold back a moan, “Matty please-”

The nickname slipped your lips so easily it was like you never should have stopped calling him that. Matthew took notice, and it was like music to his ears, “Anything you want babe.”

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, desperate for as much of him as you could get. Matthew slipped out of his boxers, pumping himself a few times before he gave you a look. You nodded, giving him the go ahead and pulling his lips back to yours. Matthew slipped inside you, and it’d never felt better.

Matthew was better now, much much better. His hips were snapping into you, a near perfect pace while grunts left his lips. The pleasure was almost too much, and you could feel your nails scratching into his back while you bit into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. His hand snaked down to your clit, “Cum for me babe, c’mon.”

You clenched around him, the sensation was enough to send Matthew over the edge, spilling into you. He dropped to his elbows, placing lazy kisses on your skin while you basked in the post sex glow. Matthew’s skin was glistening against the moonlight from your window, his breath in your ear while you caught yours and it all felt right.

“You know you have to go now,” You remind him, “My dad will murder you if he catches you up here.”

“I know,” Matthew bumps his nose against yours, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later?”

Later. It had completely slipped your mind that in just a few hours you were going to be forced to run an annual day before Christmas Eve 5k with the Tkachuk’s like you did every year. The idea was somehow worse than doing it on Thanksgiving, and now you had to see Matthew after you let him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. You watched Matthew dress himself, hopping out your window and back to his own house.

Now you just needed some sleep.

***

You felt like shit, and you were missing the iced coffee you didn’t have a chance to get while you trailed behind your parents to meet the Tkachuk’s. You greeted everyone, stopping at Matthew last, you were unsure of how to even greet him after what you’d just done a few hours before. He didn’t think anything of it, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Here,” Matthew says, nudging his cup towards you. You assumed it was coffee, but then the taste of a mimosa hit your tongue.

“Jeez,” You choke, coughing while you take down the champagne with just a hint of orange juice.

“Do you think I was going to run this sober? You wore me out last night,” Matthew teases, and he could feel Brady’s gaze on him.

The wheels in Brady’s head were turning. He was suspicious, catching Matthew sneak back into the house early in the morning, and now watching the two of you - it was clear. It became even clearer when they started running, because Brady knew Matthew wasn’t that slow and he didn’t wasn’t going to let Brady beat him. He was though, jogging behind Brady with you and laughing at whatever you said. There was one thing that was clear, Matthew got over his dumb fear of talking to you and finally did. His brother was happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to watch this explode in your faces in a few days. Matthew would go back to Calgary and just the first time you broke, it was going to be ugly.

***

The winter in St. Louis was brisk, but Matthew’s warm body next to you was enough to fight it. Your head was on his chest, and you were snoring softly. Matthew picked you up a few hours after you got home, driving up to the same lake you snuck off to in high school. He stole Brady’s truck, driving off with a bunch of blankets without giving Brady an answer as to where he was going. It was supposed to be romantic, but you’d always been prone to falling asleep when you were with him.

Matthew didn’t have a complaint in the world, you slept the same way you used to. Your head on his chest, a leg tangled with his and your hands clutched to his shirt so he couldn’t move. He wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew would let you sleep the entire day away if he could have. He carded his hands through your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

Matthew often wondered what would have happened if you never broke up. If you’d followed him to Calgary and what that would have been like. Maybe you’d still be together, and after all these years he’d start looking for a ring. If you’d buy a house together, maybe even be that family that houses wayward hockey players just like his parents did. You’d be the person he got to share looks with across the room when he was forced to have conversations he didn’t want to have. He’d get to take you family skates and you’d get to see him play and you’d live happily ever after.

Reality was always much more cruel, and it wasn't pretty. You had a life in St. Louis, one that didn’t include him. You were moving along in your life just fine without him. You didn’t need Matthew and it was dumb of him to think you’d drop it all for him. You never asked him to stay, and it would be unfair to ask you to wait around.

“I can hear you thinking, you might start to malfunction soon bubs,” You whisper, your voice still laced with sleep. You meant to run a hand through his hair, but the palm of your hand just hit his forehead while you moved it back down slowly. Matthew chuckles, the silly nicknames you gave him seemed to come out without a second thought, and it felt good to be called any of them by you.

“Just thinking about you,” Matthew breathes, and you pick up your head. Matthew shoots you a smile, but you knew he was faking it.

“Matty-” You take one deep breath, “Don’t ask me to come with you, you know it’s not fair to me.”

Your voice was cracking, pleading Matthew to just not have this conversation. You weren’t ready for it, because it meant accepting defeat. The universe wasn’t going to allow you to be together, and that’s just how it was going to be.

“I don’t want to go back to Calgary,” Matthew whispers, more to himself than you. He did want to go back, but he wanted to go back with you.

“You have to,” You sit up, a chill running through your body from the loss of Matthew’s body next to yours. You rub your arms to warm up, “You have to because we’re just not going to make it work Matty.”

Matthew nods solemnly, like his heart just broke all over again. You were right, you always were, it just seemed naïve to think you’d both be any different now than you were the first time, “Let me take you home.”

The car ride was awkward. The only thing cutting through the silence was the Christmas music playing on the radio. You sat with your head pressed against the window, counting down the streets until you finally hit yours. Matthew halted the car, and you gave him one more look before you stepped out of the car, “Tell your parents I said Merry Christmas.”

“I will,” Matthew nods, and those were the last words you heard him say before you walked up your stairs. Matthew waited for you to be inside before he drove off, a small part of him hoping you’d run back to the car and tell him you wanted him too. You didn’t, and that was just how it was going to be.

***

Christmas was awful, the past two days seemed to pass were pure agony. You were sad, and knowing Matthew was about three blocks and four houses away wasn’t helping. You were counting down the hours until he was back in Calgary, away from you and you could finally grieve him for the final time. The last nail in the coffin of what was once your first love had yet to be hammered in but once he was gone that would settle it.

You had two more hours until you knew his flight would leave, and you were so close to the finish line you could taste it. You were home alone, your parents still making their way to a few neighbors' houses to spend the last few moments of the holiday with their friends. You were sulking, a wine bottle stolen from your mother’s collection and the Grinch on your TV. 

A doorbell was the only thing to interrupt you, and you could see a tuft of curly hair through the window. Matthew was standing outside your door, pacing back and forth while he waited for you to open it. You thought about acting like you weren’t home, maybe he’d leave and never come back. You opened it, not even having a chance to open your mouth before he spoke.

“Come with me,” Matthew pleads, “I love you, I still do and I always have and we’re meant to be together. There isn’t anyone I want more by my side than you, and I know it’ll be hard but I’m not ready to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Matthew-” You interrupt grabbing his arm to stop his pacing, “Listen to yourself.”

“I am, and I want this, I never wanted to give up you and I just can’t fly back there with people who don’t know when I’m faking a smile or when I don’t want to be somewhere,” Matthew explains, running a hand over his face, “You’re the best I’ll ever have and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I’ll come until New Year’s,” You agree, Matthew’s face breaking out into a very real smile, “We need to talk about this Matthew.”

“You talk, I’ll listen, you can have whatever you want,” Matthew agrees, because he’d move the sun if he could for you. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the same front door he kissed you in front of on your first date. The porch light still flickers the way it used to while Matthew’s hands gripped your face because he was afraid to let you go. You both finally pulled, Matthew mumbling his next words against your lips.

Tis the damn season huh?

[hockeyboysimagines]

omg i love your matty t blurbs!! 🥺 could you pls do something like their friends and she got jealous because she thought matty was seeing someone but they both like each other. a little angst but with a fluffy ending. thank you!! x

Thanks for the ask, I hope you like this!

“Are you jealous?”

You scoffed “Me? Jealous? Why would you even say that?”

Brady chuckled “Well because you’ve been staring at that girl for the last ten minutes like your trying to set her on fire. So I was just wondering.”

“Matthew is free to do whatever he wants. He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ah just because he isn’t doesn’t mean you don’t want him to be.”

Brady wasn’t wrong. You had grown up next door, younger than Matthew but older than Brady and they had always just been like brothers to you.

But one day Matthew stopped looking like a brother and started looking like a boyfriend.

It was summer in St.Louis and the Tkachuks were having a party. You knew who the girl was, and even though she was nice you hated her. Matthew and her had been hanging around eachother since she arrived and he was smiling that stupid smile and making her laugh and you just wanted to punch him. They were way too close for a casual conversation.

“What are we talking about?” Taryn asked as she joined you.

“Y/N wants Matthew to be her boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? Well that’s not surprising.” You glared at them and turned to walk away when you ran smack into Matthew himself. He smiled at you and then nodded to his left, where the girl was standing. She smiled at you, but like a brat you didn’t return it.

“Do you guys know-“

“Yeah we know.” You snapped. You were being rude but you didn’t care. Matthew frowned.

“What’s your problem?”

You looked at him and then her and then side stepped them. You couldn’t really be mad, he didn’t know how you felt.

The Tkachuks bathroom was cool and quiet as you sat on the side of the tub. You would have to accept at some point that he would never feel the same and this was all bound to happen. You stood, took a deep breath and opened the door to find Matthew on the other side.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to tell me what your problem is.”

“Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”

He made a face “My what?”

“It’s fine I don’t care.” You made the move to push past him but he braced his arm across the doorway to stop you “Kinda seems like you care.”

“Well I don’t. You wanna date her or someone else go ahead. I’m not jealous.”

“I never said you were.”

“I know I’m just saying.”

He was still looking down at her, eyebrows furrowed before he spoke “You know. I don’t get you. Your mad cuz I was talking to another girl, yet you evade my flirting every summer since we were 15. What gives?”

“You have not been flirting-“

“Oh yes I have. Every single summer. Didn’t you ever wonder why I always hung out with you instead of going out to do something dumb with my friends? Or why I text you every damn day during the season? I mean. I don’t know how much more obvious I can make myself without skywriting “Y/N I like you. Let me take you out.”

“You-you like me?”

“Of course I do. I always have.”

“What about what’s her name out there?”

“I was just talking to her. She likes Brady.”

You felt so dumb. You were flipping out about nothing and making an idiot out of yourself for 7 summers straight when you could have been dating him all this time.

“So can I kiss you now or would you like to yell at me some more about my nonexistent girlfriend? I’ve been waiting for 7 years so I guess I can wait a little longer.”

“You can kiss me now. I can always yell at you later.”

And he did, right there in the doorway of the bathroom. After a moment he had you up against the doorframe when you heard a triumphant’YES’.

Taryn had her fist raised in victory “Dad owes me 50 bucks!”

“What?” You both asked, still wrapped up in one another.

“We’ve had a bet going for like 7 years and I just won. Carry on.”

“Oh we will.” He said with a sly smile as he leaned back pressing his lips to yours.