This Love is Ours

Chapter 15: Moonlight Waters

"Patrick." He replies, his voice small.

"No way, me too!" I laugh.

He laughs with me.

The two of us pose for the picture, and then his mom thanks me.

Little Patrick gives me a hug before skipping off in excitement with his mom.

I sit back down, a smile written on my face.

"You mean the world to so many people, Pat." Abigail says, smiling at me.

I have been approached countless times by fans when I'm with Abigail.

Whether it's when we're out for dinner, walking in Downtown Chicago, or out a bar, I often get approached by fans of all ages.

I don't mind at all.

Abigail is extremely used to it by now, and she loves it when people recognize me in public, to be honest.

Apparently, she's even been asked by a few fans for a picture with her when she goes to games at the United Center.

I never really thought about how she felt about it.

Being approached by fans has just become such a normal part of my life, I never think too much about it.

But what Abigail has just said, is intriguing.

"I never really thought of it that way." I shrug.

"Didn't you hear his mom? You're his hero, Pat." She laughs, finishing off her ice cream.

"Well, yeah, but I'm just... me. Just Patrick." I shrug.

Abigail shakes her head.

"You're so much more than that." She assures, her eyes wide.

I take my last spoonful of ice cream, and then stand up.

She stands up too, and I throw my arm around her waist.

We throw our empty cups out, and make our way back to the parking lot in which I parked earlier this morning.

"I don't think you understand just how important you are, Abby. To so many people." I explain, bluntly.

She looks over and up at me.

"Are you kidding?" She snorts.

"Not at all." I shake my head.

"I'm no Patrick Kane. I don't play on a professional sports team, I'm not a famous singer, I'm not a model, I'm just me. Just Abigail. You, on the other hand, are so much more than that. You say you are "just Patrick" as if it's a bad thing." She giggles.

"You think I care about that? Abby, you don't have to be famous or rich for me to love you. I love you for who you are, who you have been, and who you always will be. I swear to God that will never change." I say, as we reach our car.

"You're wonderful, Patrick. You really, really are." Abby shakes her head, smiling down at the ground.

I laugh, and we both get into the car.

About thirty minutes later, Abby and I have reached the lakehouse.

I park the car, and then the two of us head inside.

It's about 7:15 in the evening, so it's much too early to head to bed.

Therefore, we make our way through the house, past the backyard, and onto the sandy shore of Lake Erie.

I take Abby's hand as we take our first steps onto the sand.

The sand is grainy between my toes, as we are both bare-foot.