They had divorced three months ago, and it was killing Alex. He couldn't even remember why they'd left eachother in the first place. Nowadays, he slept Jackie and breathed Jackie. He saw her face on the back of his eyelids everytime he blinked, he'd wake up in the middle of the night feeling empty and look over only to realize that Jackie wasn't lying next to him. It was killing him. But what could he do? Alex was a proud guy, he could admit that. He'd reached for the phone probably a million times, dialing Jackie's number but canceling the call before she could pick up, trying to convince himself that it was because he didn't know what to say, and he knew she didn't want to talk to him. (It was really because he thought the sound of her voice might shatter him.)
But seriously, Alex was a tough guy. He could handle this. He just needed to skate it off. He walked to his closet and picked up his rollerblades, put his keys in his pocket, and walked to the door. He hesitated when his hand touched the handle for a moment, shook his head, and turned back. He quickly ran upstairs, into his bedroom, and threw open his closet. He dug through it, muttering things like, "This is stupid" and "So cliche" under his breath. He finally straightened up, ice skates in hand. He shook his head again as he walked to his car, threw them on the passenger's seat, and drove in the direction of the rink.
He'd skated maybe two laps around the ice when he just quit. It wasn't right. It was too lonely; he felt stupid not having anything to do with his hands. Normally, he was holding Jackie in the air. Normally, his fingers were wrapped around hers as they flew around the rink. Normally she was there.
He sat down heavily on a bench, ripping his skates off and throwing them forcefully onto the floor. (He received some odd looks, but took care of those with some glares of his own.) What was he even doing here? Why had he come? All right, fine. So he'd been hoping she'd be here. Big deal. It was a waste of time anyway, he thought, as he got up to leave.
He walked down a hallway with numerous smaller hallways branching out of it, but didn't take any notice of them until he heard echoing sobs coming down one of them. He froze, and then stepped back a few steps to confirm his initial reaction. Yup. He knew those sobs well. She'd cried the same way three months ago as she'd slipped her wedding ring off of her finger and given it back to him. He'd already started walking in Jackie's direction before catching himself. What was he doing? What would he say? He sighed and decided it didn't matter. Now or never, that was his policy. All or nothing.
His breath caught when he finally saw her. Gorgeous as ever, slumped heavily on the bench, one skate on and the other lying on its side next to her. She had her face in her hands and was shaking so hard she didn't notice him. He spoke quietly.
"Who did it?"
Jackie bolted upright, saw him, and wiped her cheeks quickly before saying in that infuriating, I-don't-need-you, I-can-handle-it voice, "Alex! What do you want"
He spoke just as quietly again. "Tell me who made you cry like that, and I'll kick his ass." And just like that, she just broke in front of him. She didn't start crying again, but he could almost see her heart break in her chest.
She turned her face away from him and whispered, "It's kind of difficult to kick your own ass, isn't it?" He shifted uncomfortably, for once speechless. Luckily, she spoke again. "Why are you...is that your wedding ring? Why are you still wearing it?" He glanced at his left hand, where his wedding ring remained. It was true. He hadn't taken it off. He couldn't.
He said, "I couldn't take it off. I-" She looked at him, and he saw something strange in her eyes, behind the tears. Hope? "I- look, Jackie, you know what I want to say. Are you really going to make me say it out loud?"
She gave a short laugh, sat up a little straighter, and said, "Yes, Alex. I want to hear you say it. Say it--" She was interrupted by Alex getting on his knees in front of her and cutting her off himself: Stunned, Jackie put her hand over her mouth.
"Okay. You wanna know why I haven't taken this off? I didn't want to take it off. I couldn't. Because I love you. I'm sorry. I just do. I love you, and I miss you, and I'm pretty much dying without you, so will you please just marry me?" He'd said this all very quickly, and was breathing slightly heavier than normal. Jackie could just stare. No way was this happening- she thought it was over, she thought he didn't want her anymore. Never did she think-
"Look. Here," Alex said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keyring. She almost broke down when she realized that aside from his car keys, her wedding ring dangled off the ring. "Here. I've been carrying your ring around with me for three months, but it doesn't feel right. It shouldn't be in my pocket or on my bedside table at night. It should be on your finger."
Jackie laughed quietly. "Alex, I didn't know you were capable of such romantic and sentimental fluff."
He shifted so he was bent on one knee, and replied (with a hint of desperation, Jackie noted), "See, I try, for you. Will you please marry me, Jackie Dorsey""
She smiled warmly for the first time in a long while, and replied, "Jackie Harrison."
Relieved, Alex had the ring on her finger and was up and kissing her against the wall so fast, Jackie barely had time to say, "Finally."