To You, With Love

Chapter One: Introduction

Misty's POV

Today was the day I was dreading most. I had it marked on my calendar and everything. This was the day I just wanted to pretend like I was sick; or wear a paper bag on my head.

I just really wish my father wouldn't make me come to every goddamn game...

"Got your bags packed. Are you ready to go?" My father barked up the stairs at me.

"Yes, dad." I grumbled, making sure to make my anger obvious.

Tightening my ponytail, I grabbed the bag near my bedroom door and raced downstairs, making sure to shut the door behind me.

By this time, my dad had already started the car and was impatiently waiting for me to join him. Most days I would move a lot quicker, but today, I didn't even want to get out of bed.

I even made sure to grab a piece of toast on my way out.

"Auntie Sherry moves faster than you!" My dad joked, putting the car in gear.

I opened the trunk and threw my bag inside, "Sorry, but you know how much I don't want to go."

I took a bite of my toast.

"Well, as long as you're under my roof, you play by my rules."

Sure, I'm a twenty three-year-old girl still living at home, but I'm in my last year of university, which meant I was living rent-free.

"Ugh, alright." I moaned, crossing my arms like I was a child again.

I began to fiddle with the radio in my dad's SUV until I came across TSN Toronto.

"Ooh, keep it on here for a minute."

We both knew a minute would turn into the whole car ride.

"Tonight we see two Eastern Conference teams, the Toronto Maple Leafs take on the Carolina Hurricanes. What are your thoughts?" One voice said.

"I think the Carolina Hurricanes-" I let his voice trail off. Just hearing the team's name made me sick to my stomach.

How could I have done something like that to someone, at that time, I loved more than anything?

Thoughts raced through my mind and tears began to fill my eyes. I tried my best to hold them back.

"Misty, are you okay?" My dad finally asked, breaking the silence.

"No!" I shouted, bursting into tears, "What I did was wrong. And I can't erase what I've done."

My dad nodded, clearly more interested in what the announcers had to say on the radio.

"Uh huh, I understand."

That was the same reply I would recive everytime I'd try to talk about him.

At times like this, I really wished my mom was here to listen to me and comfort me, but instead, she chose her idiot boyfriend, Leon, over my brother and I. We were stuck in Toronto, while she was off, having the time of her life in California.

I still hated her for that.

"You don't understand..."

---

Not long after I began to bawl my eyes out, my dad pulled into the arena parking lot.

Staring at myself in the side mirrors of his car, I noticed the black lines of mascara dripping down my face.

Without another word, I raced into the building before anyone could see me. Running up the stairs, my hands covered my tear-stained face.

Then, out of no where, I found myself flat out on the floor. My head had slammed on the concrete and I had the breath knocked out of me.

"I'm so sorry!" I cried, "I didn't-" My voice trailed off.

Just the guy I didn't want to see.

He held his hand out for me to grab onto, but instead, I pushed it away, deciding to get up on my own. Brushing myself off, I made sure not to make eye-contact with him.

"You still come with your dad on gameday?" The man chuckled.

"Yeah, I do. Is there a problem?" I retorted.

I knew that would shut him up.

"No, no, I was just wondering." His accent glazed over each word that came out of his mouth.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

He moved off to the side to let me pass.

Once I reached the bathroom, I couldn't help but stare at myself in the mirror and cry.

I began to talk to my reflection.

"I've apologized to him numerous times," I said between sniffles, "Why can't it go back to the way it used to be?"

"I still love you, Tlusty."