Title: Leave It To Me
Rating: PG/PG-13
Setting: about twelve years after the Ducks graduate high school.
Summary: Guy thinks back on his time with Connie
Feedback: feel free, hit the review button
Dedication: for Cimmy, because I promised her. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: the Walt Disney Company owns Guy, Connie, Goldberg, and Banks. I am not associated in any way with Boston University, the Cars, the Nashville Predators, the Anaheim Mighty Ducks, or the NHL.
Story Notes: this story was heavily inspired by the Cars song 'All Mixed Up.' It's a gift for Cimmy. As of March 26, 2008 it was re-uploaded for minor grammar corrections and formatting changes. No content changes have been made.

she shadows me in the mirror / she never leaves on the light / some things that I say to her / they just don't seem to bite

it's all mixed up / it's all mixed up / it's all mixed up

she tricks me into thinking / I can't believe my eyes / I wait for her forever / but she never does arrive

it's all mixed up / it's all mixed up / it's all mixed up

she said to leave it to me (leave it to me) / everything will be all right (be all right) / she said to leave it to me (leave it to me) / everything will be all right

she's always out making pictures / she's always out making scenes / she's always out the window / when it comes to making dreams

it's all mixed up / it's all mixed up / it's all mixed up

she said to leave it to me (leave it to me) / everything will be all right (be all right) / she said to leave it to me (leave it to me) / everything will be all right (be all right)

she says to leave it to me (leave it to me) / everything will be all right (be all right) / she says to leave it to me, yeah (leave it to me) / everything will be all right (be all right) / if you leave it to me (leave it to me) / everything will be all right (be all right) / yeah, if you leave it to me / leave it to me / be all right / be all right / be all right / be all right…

-The Cars, 'All Mixed Up'

When I was eighteen, I graduated high school. I had dreams to go to college, to play hockey, to make it in the NHL, to get married, to have a family.

I'm now thirty, and many dreams I had did come true. I graduated college eight years ago from Boston University. I played hockey in Boston, and was drafted by the Nashville Predators 17th overall in the 2004 NHL entry draft.

But I never did get married, and never did have a family. I was close, but I never did. So now I, Guy Germaine, am a bachelor. There's still hope for me, I guess, but not really. I don't let other women into my life, in the hopes that she'll come back. She's not going to, but I can still dream, right?

You see, when I was twenty-two, I had a girlfriend, by the name of Connie Moreau. I'd been dating her since we were ten, and seriously since we were fifteen.

We did everything together, from playing hockey to doing homework. I was with Connie. Ninety-eight percent of my life I spent with Connie. The other two percent? One was spent in the bathroom, the other sleeping. And even that changed once we were older. I spent ninety-nine percent of my life with Connie. We were together all the time.

"'Connie and Guy' shouldn't even be considered three words anymore," my old buddy Goldberg used to joke. "It should be considered one big word, and when you look it up in the dictionary, it should show your pictures. If they don't create a new word for you, they should at least have your pictures under the word 'attached'."

That Goldberg…he was such a joker. I wonder what happened to him. Last I heard he moved out of his parents' deli and started his own restaurant. He was always a good cook, that Goldberg.

Anyway, the point he was trying to make was Connie and I were together all the time.

Nothing changed after high school, because we dated in college. She also went to Boston University. She dropped hockey though. "The sport is too big for me now," she'd smiled, "I'm only 5'4, and the next smallest guy after me would be 5'11."

"I'm 6'2," I reminded her.

"I know, and when did you get so tall?" she'd joke back.

So college ended, we graduated, and I was drafted by the Predators. Connie and I were still dating, but I think that's when it started to fall apart.

We'd moved down to Nashville because of my obligations to the team. Connie got a job taking photographs for one of the Nashville newspapers. "The guy who takes the pictures with me is so cute!" she'd squealed after her first day. I was so stupid. I smiled and told her how proud I was of her and how she was going to do on her job. I really should have been reading the signs. But I spent much of my time on the road or in training that I didn't bother. Connie and I hardly saw each other, but the relationship we had was still strong…or at least I thought. The time we did have together were spent well. We went out, or had sex, or just enjoyed our time doing nothing.

Christmas of 2005 I decided it was time, and I asked Connie to marry me. I was so sure she'd say yes that I didn't even consider the possibility she'd say no.

"Not yet, Guy, I don't think I'm ready," she'd smiled, and kissed my cheek. "I don't want to get married yet."

I must have looked upset, because she then said a lot of stuff about living our lives and having fun before we got married. "Leave it to me, Guy," she'd said. "I'll let you know when I want to get married."

I sensed something was wrong, but smiled, and naively figured I'd imagined it, our marriage would come soon, and went back to life.

Hockey continued, Connie continued in her job which she really seemed to love, and spring of 2006, I asked her to marry me again. I got the same speech, and the same sense something was wrong. She said we were too busy to plan a wedding. We were busy. I was busy with hockey, she with taking pictures with that guy from work. But I pushed it aside in my mind. It should have been another one of those signs that I should have been reading, the way she would commit to taking pictures with that guy constantly and wouldn't commit to making a dream with me.

Then the same thing happened in autumn of the same year, and then summer of 2007. When I asked her to marry me for the fifth time Christmas of 2007, she was livid with me.

"I don't want to marry you yet, Guy! What don't you understand!? I'm not ready to marry you! I don't want to yet! You ask me every five minutes!" she'd yelled, heading for the bedroom. After her yelling a bit more, I got to speak.

"What?" I'd asked stupidly. "Connie, I love you, I thought that you wanted to marry me?"

She slammed the bedroom door in my face. I fell asleep on the couch.

In the middle of the night, though, she came in and woke me up and told me how sorry she was, and that she didn't mean to snap and that I should just leave things to her, everything would be alright, and that she was sorry. I accepted her apology and offered one of my own, saying I was a pest for not giving you enough time, though in my heart I knew two years was a very long time. I fell asleep feeling better, though, and was sure Connie was going to marry me soon now.

But to my great surprise, our late night apologies made very little difference. Our relationship was very strained. We didn't speak much, and rarely spent time together. We had sex a few times, and that was about it. We didn't talk about anything, and I didn't bring up marriage again. I couldn't shake the dread that something was wrong, but I kept telling myself it would pass and it would all be all right. Because that's what Connie had said; to leave it to her and everything would be all right.

Hockey continued on, and Connie continued on her job, and began spending most of her time on the job, even when I was home. Now I knew something was wrong. She'd never avoided me before. One night when I came home from a late practice at about 1:30 AM, that guy she'd been working with since her first day was there having a drink with her. I found out his name was Billy (yes, after two years I didn't know the man who worked with my girlfriend's first name) and that he thought Connie was great and that I was a lucky man. This made Connie blush and giggle.

That should have been another clue for me. What was this guy doing in my house - our house - at this hour, with my girlfriend? I knew something was wrong, but didn't listen to myself. I managed to convince myself that it was just as Connie said it was. They'd gone to a movie after work and were having a drink before Billy went home. Connie said that everything was all right.

The next day I mentioned marriage again.

"I'm not quite ready yet, Guy, I need another few months," she'd said weakly.

"Connie, we're twenty-six and have been seriously dating for eleven years. How much more time could you possibly need?" I asked, rather snappishly.

"Not much, Guy, I promise. Leave it to me, it'll be all right," she smiled. We had sex before we went to sleep. Well, before I went to sleep. "Goodnight Guy. Don't worry. Leave it to me. Everything will be all right. Leave it to me," was the last thing I heard her whisper before I drifted off to sleep.

That day we talked and slept together was March 31, 2008. That was the last day I ever saw Connie Moreau.

The next morning, I woke up and rolled over to look at Connie, but instead of the brown haired, brown eyed girl I loved so much, I found a letter. I grabbed it off the pillow, and wiping the sleep fog from my eyes, began to read.

Dear Guy,

If you've found this letter, you know already. I'm gone…and this time, I'm not coming back. Billy asked me to marry him, and I accepted. I've been cheating on you, Guy, and I'm sorry for that, but I don't love you like that anymore. I know you're mad. I don't blame you. I'm a little mad, too. Last night I realized that I'd lied, and don't want to marry you at all. Billy asked me to marry him, and I've said yes. I know I want to marry him and not you because he only had to ask once. I'm so sorry, Guy. You're my first love, and I do love you, just not like I should. It's hard to explain. Being with you just isn't working for me anymore. You're almost never home, and I get lonely. We're both too selfish for that kind of relationship.

Don't try to stop Billy and me, by the time you figure out where Billy lives we'll be long gone. I've taken everything important with me, the rest you can keep. I don't know how you didn't see this coming, and don't lie, I know you didn't. You would have said something if you had, and maybe that was a sign to me that we weren't meant to be together anymore.

I'll always love you, though, Guy. You changed my life, and I'm grateful for that. I'll always love you and I'll never forget you. I know that it doesn't make sense that I say how much I love you and such now that I've probably hurt you and made you angry, but it's true. I do love you, Guy Germaine, and I'll never forget you. Maybe one day, when your pain and anger dies away, you'll be able to admit the same of me. They will go away, those emotions of hurt and anger. You're wonderful, Guy, you made me feel special for years, and I hope I did the same for you. You will be fine, and you'll do fine for yourself. You'll find someone else to love. Don't worry, Guy, everything will be all right.

Love always and forever,
Connie

The day I received that letter was April 1, 2008. I had two games left to play. I was twenty-six years old. The day is now July 17, 2012 and I am thirty years old. It's one of those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer that Connie and I would have spent together back before Nashville, back before marriage, back before Billy.

I was a free agent after the 2008 season, and now play for the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim. I had been planning to resign in Nashville, but I changed my mind after Connie left. I just had to leave that city. I disliked everything about the city, except for the hockey. The city itself offered me nothing. I hadn't realized it until I was wandering around looking for something to do that summer. It shocked me, and I quickly realized the only reason I thought I enjoyed it there was because Connie was with me. Without her, Nashville was too hot, too southern, too country music for me. Plus, with the memories of Connie and me still wandering around the streets inside my head, it was painful and I had to leave.

So I play for the Ducks now. One of my old teammates from when I was a kid, from the original Ducks, Adam Banks, is on my team. He was drafted the year before I was. I like playing with him. He's still a great player, and playing with an old friend eases the memory of what happened just before the season ended four years ago.

I haven't spoken to or heard from Connie since that last day. I'm not sure if I want to, but then again, I'm not sure if I don't want to either. I'm not sure if I need to make peace with her.

I still have that letter, locked away in a trunk somewhere with other things that mean a lot to me. There's one of my grandmother's old quilts in there. My dad's college ring is in there. My mother's old white sweater is in there, as is a Christmas ornament my grandfather gave me the year before he died. Among other hockey things is a team photo of the District 5 Ducks, a bunch of Connie and me, the engagement ring I bought Connie, and that letter she wrote me. I can't figure out why I keep that letter. I guess it's because it's the last thing I have from her. I tried to throw it away, but I just can't bring myself to get rid of the damn thing. It's like her memory. It just won't go away.

In her letter, she was right in a couple ways. Once my hurt and anger faded, and it took a good six months, I still loved her. She was wrong in the sense that I'll find someone else. I'll never find another Connie. I don't date much because of it. Like I said in the beginning, I'm still holding out for the day she comes back, even though she probably won't.

Then there are days where I'm sure I'm over her, and then I look in the mirror, and I see her. I'd swear she was standing behind me. But when I spin around to hug her, she's not there, and I realize again that I haven't let go.

So I still dream. Maybe she'll call again. It's been four years since I've even heard from her, and in my heart I know she's not coming back. I just don't know what else to hope for. She was everything I ever wanted. I wanted to marry her, and I never ever dreamt that she'd leave. I never thought our relationship couldn't work. I never thought she'd lie to me.

The last thing I heard her say was, "Leave it to me, everything will be all right, leave it to me."

I believed her. That I'd leave it to her and everything would be all right. Well, I left it to her.

I left it to her, and she left me.

I don't think everything will ever be all right.