Chapter Text
Connor Bedard had everything he could have ever wanted– a great beginning of his career with the Chicago Blackhawks as a 1st overall pick. He was promised greatness. He had a boyfriend too, that everyone assumed was just as perfect. To everyone else, Connor and Victor seemed like the ultimate power couple of sports. Two young and ambitious athletes. Lately, though, Connor has felt it start to fade.
Victor was distant. He wasn’t the same man Connor had fallen for all those months ago. This wasn’t the man who’d smile at all his bad jokes and kiss him after every game, win or lose. Victor started coming home late, offering vague excuses about extra meetings with his agent or practice, but Connor knew something was off. He had tried to rationalize it though. Telling himself that Victor was just busy and after all, they both had very demanding careers. They were both athletes under constant pressure to perform to the best of their ability. It could have just been natural to have less and less time for each other.
Coldness began seeping into their relationship where there was once warmth though. The chemistry between the pair had changed. The excuses piled up, like a brick wall forming between the two. Good morning messages never came through anymore. The sweet and random texts during the day had disappeared. Their conversations became scarce. They felt forced. Victor’s mind was elsewhere when they were together.
Connor tried to ask him about it once. “You okay, Vic? You seem different,” he asked him, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Attempting to sound like he wasn’t desperately clawing for an answer.
Victor smiled back at him softly. A smile that Connor fell in love with, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, just tired. You know how it be.”
Connor just simply nodded. He pushed down the sinking feeling he had in his stomach, trying to force himself to believe him. Victor was tired. They both were. Nothing more.
It was that one phone notification that was the last straw. It was what broke him. Victor was in the shower one night, and Connor was still up tossing and turning, even though it was 1:24 A.M. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw Victor’s phone light up on the nightstand. He usually brought it into the washroom with him recently, but this time he forgot. Normally, Connor wouldn’t have looked, but his instinct felt the need to. Desperate to understand what was happening. He peeked over and saw a name he didn’t recognize. Danielle.
His stomach began to knot. At first, he hesitated. Connor knew he shouldn’t look, but he had been looking for the truth for weeks. He shouldn’t invade Victor’s privacy. He knows that, but he’s getting the gnawing feeling in his stomach yet again. A feeling that had been itching at him for weeks. It screamed at him to just look. His body moved before he could even think. Grabbing the phone, he swiped to reveal one of the messages that had just come through. Suddenly, one of Connor’s worst nightmares just became a reality.
Can’t wait to see you again. Had so much fun tonight ;)
His heart plummeted. He stared at it as he tapped the message, the conversation opening before him. The texts were proof enough for him. All right there on Victor’s phone. Texts he clearly wasn’t supposed to see. Each message he read felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart, carving out the last remnants of a relationship he once thought was real. Photos, flirty messages, plans to meet up. Each new message was just more confirmation of what he was trying to avoid. He should have known. All the signs were laid out in front of him on a silver platter for weeks– no, months, and he had almost turned a blind eye to it.
His legs felt weak. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed. His chest heaved as he tried to breathe, the feeling of betrayal slamming into him like a freight train. He glanced down at the messages again, somehow unable to look away. Like a car wreck. Even as his heart clenched and the words blurred together through his tears. This was it. Victor was fucking cheating on him.
The sound of the shower shutting off in the distance brought him back to reality. Connor heard the bathroom door creak open and the soft shuffle of Victor’s footsteps as he emerged into the bedroom, trying to be quiet. Connor couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. His mind was a mess, and he felt helpless. He couldn’t escape the storm of his mind that he was caught in the centre of.
“Hey,” Victor’s voice broke through his thoughts. It was casual as if nothing had changed. As if Connor’s world didn’t just shatter into pieces mere seconds ago. “You okay?”
Connor couldn’t even look at him, fearing if he did he’d begin sobbing. His heart pounded in his chest. He sat frozen with the weight of it all.
“Who is she?” His voice said quietly but held a trembling edge to it as if he would snap any moment.
Victor’s steps toward the closet faltered. The sound of his towel dropping echoed like a gunshot.
“What?”
Connor’s grip on the phone tightened. He thought he might break it if he held it any tighter.
“Danielle? Who is she?” Connor still wouldn't look away from the floor, refusing to make eye contact with the other man.
There was a long silence. It was too long. The kind of silence that confirmed everything Connor already knew and needed to know. Finally forcing himself to look up, Victor’s face wasn’t one that held any shock or denial– it was filled with guilt.
Victor ran a hand through his dam hair, sighing from exhaustion as if he had just come home from a run, rather than being caught cheating by his boyfriend.
“Connor…”
The single thing he spoke shattered the last bit of Connor’s hope. If he even had any left. He was bracing himself for this, but the confirmation still hit him like a wave.
“You’re cheating on me,” Connor whispered, almost to himself. The words felt bitter on his tongue. He felt like he was going to vomit.
Victor didn’t deny it. Didn’t rush to explain or scramble for an excuse. He just stood there with his shoulders slumped, staring at Connor with an indifferent expression.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Victor said quietly, matching Connor’s tone as if that was supposed to make him feel any better.
His hands shook as he quickly placed the phone down on the bedside table before he threw it across the room and at the wall.
“How long?” He demanded, his voice breaking. He felt himself grow smaller and smaller. “How long have you been lying to me?”
Victor hesitated. “A few months.”
The words echoed inside his head. It made him sick. They had been together for almost a year now, but for months, Victor had been seeing someone else. He had been lying, cheating, and betraying everything Connor had thought they had.
“Why?” Connor’s voice was barely more than a breath.
Victor sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, now the one refusing to make eye contact with Connor, favouring to look at the floor instead.
“I don’t know, Connor. It just kind of… happened.”
Connor stared at Victor. Disbelief and anger coursed through him.
“It just happened? You’ve been sleeping with someone else for fucking months, lying to me, and you expect me to believe it just happened?” He spat the words out.
Victor didn’t even bother attempting to answer. Knowing he was caught already. He didn’t try to comfort Connor and refused to even look him in the eye when admitting his fault. That might’ve hurt more than anything. Not even just the cheating, but also the complete lack of care Victor had. Like everything they shared meant nothing to him.
“Get out,” Connor choked out, demanding. His voice trembled, just as his legs did when he stood. “Just… get the fuck out.”
Victor opened his mouth for just a second as if to say something, but whatever it was, Connor did not want to hear it. Not anymore. It was too late. He could barely even stand to look at him. He can’t even bear being in the same room as him.
With a defeated sigh, Victor gathered the few things he had left in Connor’s apartment and left without another word. Not even a sorry was left behind. The door closed behind him with a soft click and Connor was left standing alone in the now empty apartment. The silence was suffocating.
As soon as he couldn’t hear his footsteps outside anymore, the tears came. They fell hard and fast. His chest heaved with sobs as he sank to the floor, sliding down the wall. He felt like the ground had just been ripped out from under him. Everything hurt– his mind, his body, his heart. It felt like Victor had taken a hammer and smashed his world into pieces. Now all Connor could do was sit in the wreckage and just try to breathe through his sobs.
He didn’t know how long he sat there crying. His throat was raw and his body was exhausted. Eventually, the tears stopped as he began to fall asleep against the wall and on the floor. What was left of Connor was just an empty and hollow ache in his chest.
The days after that night blurred together in a haze of numbness and emptiness. Connor barely left his apartment. Only “leaving” to grab his food in front of his door he ordered off of Uber. The once cozy safe place that had been filled with laughter and sweet late-night conversations now felt like a prison.
Everywhere he looked was a reminded of what he had just lost. There was a hoodie that Victor left still draped over the couch. Their photos together still up on the fridge. His phone was basically left untouched. It was filled with unread texts and missed calls from worried teammates, his parents, and his coach, but none from Victor.
Victor didn’t even try to apologize. Connor hadn’t expected him to, but some irrational part of him had held onto the small bit of hope, that maybe, just maybe, there was still something left to salvage. That hope died more and more as his phone grew with notifications and not one from him. His hope became nothing as each day passed with Victor not even bothering to check in on him or attempt to fix their relationship.
His coach had given him a few days off when some of his teammates grew aware of the situation, but Connor quickly learned that being alone made the ache worse. The silence pressed on him. It crushed him beneath its weight until it felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. The ruminating thoughts wouldn’t stop. It was an endless loop replaying in his head of what Victor had done, what he had said, and all the signs that Connor missed. He would ask himself the same question over and over.
Why wasn’t I enough?
He couldn’t find any answers.