::Zach Parise:: Can You Ever Forgive Me? ::One-Shot::

::Zach Parise:: Can You Ever Forgive Me? ::One-Shot::

It seemed like we weren’t made for each other. He was perfect in every way. He wasn’t one of the tallest in the league at 5’ 11”, but he wasn’t one of the shortest either. He was always one of the best goal scorers for the Devils, but he didn’t flaunt it much. He was so modest about things. He was really sweet, too, and it was always so easy to get lost in his perfect brown eyes. We had only two things in common: Our love for hockey and we were both born in Minnesota. I wasn’t even one of those people who a guy like him would notice. It seemed strange that, out of all the people in New Jersey, he picked me. It was like a dream when he said it. Those three little words that got my heart pounding: I love you. I couldn’t think straight after that. I don’t know why I did it, I just ran away. I was scared and confused. I left the country completely. I spent the last few years with family in Russia. I’ve been there since then, and that was almost two months ago.

It’s been three years now, three long years since I’ve seen him. I missed him terribly, but I still couldn’t gather up the courage to try and go back to see him. I couldn’t face him. I knew I’d hurt him when I left, but it was too much. I was still unsure on how I felt about him. I could tell that my mother wanted me to go back and ask him to forgive me. I didn’t even know if he remembered me at all. I was too scared, and I started feeling lonely again. I locked myself in my room and hid there for a week. Mom came up and was pounding on the door, trying to get me to come out, but nothing worked. She finally called someone, I’m not sure who.

I heard a knock on my door. I ignored it. The knock grew louder, and I still ignored it. There was a voice, too quiet for me to tell whose it was. It, too, got louder, and I felt my heart jump. It was him! My mom must have called him to get me out of my room!

“Alyssa, Alyssa, please come out. I want to talk to you.”

He was calling for me. I pressed my face into my knees and didn’t answer. I felt my body shaking with my silent tears.

“Alyssa, please come out. I need to talk to you.”

I shook my head to myself. Maybe... I thought. Maybe if I ignore him long enough... I heard him knocking again.

“Alyssa, please come out!”

He was begging now, I could hear it in his voice. I shook more, I was trembling all over now. I heard him outside my door; he sounded like he was trying to break it down.

“Alyssa! Come out now!”

He was shouting now. I cried out in fear. He stopped at the sound. My tears were no longer silent.

“Alyssa, I’m so sorry,”

He was whispering, I had to strain to hear him. I was still crying. I could hear the pain in his voice.

“I have nothing to say.”

My voice was thick, there was a heavy accent from speaking no English for the last three years. I heard him lean against the door.

“Alyssa, please come out. I need you. Please come back to me.”

He was whimpering, I could hear it. I started crying harder, and I couldn’t control myself. I flung open the door and flew into his arms. I felt him instantly take me in them, tightening his grip on me. He was stroking my hair, and my arms were tight around his waist. I buried my face into his jersey and sobbed there. I heard him shushing me gently as he picked me up into his arms. I think I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is opening my eyes to see his soft brown ones there. He smiled sweetly at me. I looked away, I didn’t deserve such a sweet thing.

“Are you okay, Alyssa?”

I had hurt him and he was asking me if I was okay? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I shook, and he took me into his arms once more. My answer to his question was simple.

“No. I’m not okay. I’ve been an idiot. I haven’t seen you in three years! And you’re the one asking me if I’m okay. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Shouldn’t I be asking if you’re okay? I hurt you, I know I must have. And I know that it isn’t something you get over in three years. You must still be angry at me for running away. I would understand if you told me you hated me and that you never want to see me again. Go ahead, say it. I know you want to. It will help you get over me.”

I lowered my head, not wanting to meet his gaze. I was afraid what I’d find there. I was on the edge of the bed now, as far from him as I could be in this small room. He reached out, and I pulled away, standing up, backing away from him.

“Alyssa, I could never hate you. Even after you hurt me, I still loved you, and I still do love you. Come back to me. I need you.”

His voice was soft, gentle. It hurt me more than it would have if he’d yelled at me. I turned away from him and ran again. This time, he came after me. He followed me. I ran and ran until I couldn’t run anymore. I fell to my knees and cried there, rocking myself back and forth. People were staring at me. I heard him come up behind me. He knelt next to me.

“I don’t want you to run away anymore.”

He said to me. I stared up at him through tear filled eyes. I could see the love and forgiveness there. It was more than I deserved, but I could tell he wouldn’t let me go. I stood and stepped forward into his arms. I opened my mouth to say something.

“Zach?”

“Yes, Alyssa?”

“I love you, too.”

And then I leaned up and pressed my lips to his. In that instant, when he kissed me back, I knew we were meant for each other.