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The Hockey Life

Sorry

PART SEVENTY: SORRY
Clink. The sound of plates and glasses being taken out of cupboards were what I woke up to. I kept my eyes closed and listened to the activity in the kitchen. I heard something pop out of the toaster. The aroma of bagels wafted over to my nose, due to the open concept of the apartment. My stomach grumbled, and I knew I needed to fill it with breakfast. I reluctantly threw the blanket I slept with off my body and got up off the couch. I padded over to the kitchen, where Patrick was retrieving cream cheese from the refrigerator. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but I knew that I was still feeling uneasy about our fight the night before. I decided not to say anything unless he did. He looked at me and I looked at him at the same time without trying to. At first, we ignored the fact that we had made eye contact, but then he decided to talk.
“Good morning,” he said as I put a bagel of my own into the toaster that he had left plugged in for me.
“’Morning,” I replied, not looking at him. Things were too strange right then. I didn’t feel like I needed to apologize for anything, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to apologize either.
He didn’t. He seemed to sense that I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation and he didn’t say another word. We ate our breakfast in silence. We got ready separately after we ate and I drove myself to practice in my car while he took his. I didn’t want to deal with the eerie quiet of a car ride with him, or the conversation he might attempt to have with me if we went together.
Patrick’s P.O.V.
Lena and I hadn’t gone to practice separately in forever. It didn’t feel right to drive to practice without her, but I knew it was what she wanted. Part of me felt like talking to her, but another part of me felt like giving her space. We both needed to stay away from each other for a while. I had never seen her so angry, and I had never been that mad around her, let alone AT her. Maybe time was all we needed to cool down.
I arrived at practice and went straight to the locker room. I got dressed quickly and went out on the ice as soon as possible. I needed to get lost in the sport, like I usually did when I was feeling distraught. As soon as Coach Q rallied my teammates and I up and started us out on a drill, I put everything into it and didn’t talk to anyone.
“Are you okay, dude?” Jonathan wondered in the middle of the drill when he noticed how focused and silent I was.
“Just work on your shots,” I snapped, ignoring his question.
“Are you the new captain now or something?” he asked, and I didn’t respond. “Seriously. I can tell something’s bothering you, and it would be best for the team if you just talked about it and let out some steam. Are you and Lena still fighting?” I let out a hot breath, knowing he was right, and I decided to open up.
“I don’t know, I guess. She slept on the couch last night and we drove here separately. We aren’t really talking, either,” I explained.
“Wow, that’s rough,” Johnny answered.
“Yeah. I don’t think she’d even care if I tried to apologize right now. She hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you. She’s just mad,” Jonathan assured me.
“How do you know? Do you and Tess get into fights like this?” I wondered.
“Not really, no.” After that, the conversation fizzled out and we focused on hockey.
When practice ended, I got changed and showered. Lena wanted to check on Jonathan and I one more time and then it would be assumed that we were perfectly fine and our injuries should no longer have to be looked at or be considered issues. I let Jonathan go first, and he was all good, unsurprisingly. She moved on to me, and we didn’t speak at all until she told me I was fine. We went home in our own cars, and I decided to hang out with Johnny. I needed to just talk to him and figure things out.
“I’m going to hang out with Tazer for a while. I’ll be back in a few hours,” I told Lena as I headed out the door. I heard her say okay as the door closed, and I kept moving until I was gone.
Lena’s P.O.V.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I was on the verge of a breakdown. I wasn’t really mad anymore, I was just disappointed that Patrick and I hadn’t made any progress. I called Tess and she invited me over. Jordan was gone when I got there, so it almost felt like it was the two of us being roommates again.
“I was stupid to get so mad at him,” I decided. “I think it was jut a buildup of stress that made me get so angry.”
“Probably. I mean, you have a lot going on, both of you. You’re trying to do everything even though that’s impossible and Patrick probably just doesn’t realize exactly how much you’re doing,” Tess told me.
“Yeah. I need to apologize to him, but I can’t tell if he ‘s still upset with me or not. I don’t know if he even wants anything to do with me,” I worried.
“I’m sure that’s not the case, Lean. Just try to talk to him. If he doesn’t want to talk yet, he’ll let you know. But you two live together now, so you can’t fight forever. You need to work it out before you go insane.”
“That’s true.”
I stayed at Tess’ apartment for a while after Jordan got home and I forgot about everything that had happened for a while as we got into our usual shenanigans. It all came back to me, of course, but when it did, I didn’t mind. I was ready to mend things, so I left after thanking them for their help.
When I got home, Patrick was already there. I didn’t know how long he had been there, but he was sitting on the couch doing nothing in particular, as if he was awaiting my arrival. He got up and turned to me when I closed the door and sat my purse down. I opened my mouth to say something, but his eyes were apologetic and I realized that mine were too. Instead of speaking, we both started walking until we reached each other and he pulled me into a hug. I melted into his arms and we stayed like that for a good minute, without speaking. Then I decided I needed to explain myself.
“I’m sorry, Pat. I completely overreacted yesterday. I don’t know if it was built up stress and frustration or what, but I just exploded and it should have never gotten so out of hand,” I blurted, letting the words fall right out of my mouth.
“I’m sorry, too. I should have listened, and I should have known you couldn’t do everything by yourself. You’re not a psycho, either. You’re a little crazy, but it’s a good kind of crazy. That’s one of the things I love most about you,” Patrick answered. I felt my mouth curl up into a smile and I couldn’t help but forgive him. I didn’t think I would ever be able to stay mad at him for very long. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad, thing, not yet anyways.
“I hate fights. Let’s not get into any more,” I giggled.
“I wish I could agree to that, but it’ll happen again. It’s bound to happen again. We’ll just have to get through it.”
“I guess we will,” I agreed. Patrick was quiet for a moment, then continued the conversation.
“You know, I haven’t kissed you in a while,” he stated.
“Is that all you care about?” I laughed.
“No, it’s not ALL I care about. I care about other things, like what we did the other night…”
“Patrick Timothy Kane!” I yelled, smacking him on the arm to scold him. He just smirked at me, not affected at all.
“So, what were you saying about kissing?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I just think I’m having withdrawals. My lips feel all weird, and I think the only way to fix that would be for me to kiss you,” he explained, every single word a made-up lie.
“Your lips look fine to me,” I said, feeling a strange satisfaction from teasing him.
“Yours don’t,” he replied, and before I could come up with a snarky comment, he pulled me towards him and kissed me. The collision of our lips made me realize that I didn’t care about our fight anymore. We were both wrong, we were both sorry, and it was over, anyways. It was a silly little bit of our past now, and it didn’t mean a thing. The only thing that mattered was that I still loved him and he still loved me, and as far as I was concerned, it would always be that way.
***********************************************************
The next day was game six of the first round of the playoffs, and it felt good to go to the United Center in the same car as Patrick again. We were both in seemingly better moods, which was important. The Hawks needed to play well. If they won the game, they would advance.
I wasn’t surprised when sixty minutes of hockey later, the Hawks won easily with the home ice advantage. I watched the team hand shakes with a smile on my face. It was a great way to start off the playoffs. I knew that they still had a long way to go before they would get to the Cup (if they got to the Cup), but the present tense was my focus.
The Hawks addressed the media happily and after a while, Patrick and I were on our way home, him freshly showered and me lacking inspiration for a serious talk about getting help with the wedding.
“Nice job, tonight,” I told Patrick once we were in the car.
“Thanks, I tried,” he answered, a smug look on his face.
“Did you put on cologne or something?” I wondered. His car smelled strangely good, like something had been sprayed.
“No,” he lied.
“Oh. That’s a shame, then. It smells really good, whatever it is,” I sighed.
“I mean, it might be my cologne,” he admitted.
“Good choice, then. It’s kind of amazing,” I said, taking in another whiff of it. There was no real reason for him to put on cologne this late at night after a game when all he was doing was going home, so I felt like he had to be up to something. I wasn’t going to worry about it, though. I figured I’d enjoy it instead.
The car ride was easy to enjoy until the scent faded away, but by then we were practically home again. We got inside the apartment and threw down our things, glad to be back.
“So you like this, then?” Patrick asked, taking the bottle of cologne out of his bag.
“Yeah. I can’t smell it anymore, though,” I whined.
“I guess you’ll have to come over here, then,” he told me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me towards him so I bumped into his chest. “Better?”
“Better,” I decided, putting my arms around his neck.
“I think we should go to bed,” Patrick decided as he gripped my waist.
“I’m not really tired yet,” I confessed.
“Neither am I.”
We made our way to the bedroom, where he kissed my forehead and nose before he kissed me on the lips, which lasted for a while. I tugged at his shirt, dying to see and feel his muscles. He let me pull it off of him and he pushed me down onto our bed after he took mine off. I felt his arms, his chest, his abs. I ran my hands through his insanely soft curls and he moved his hands up and down my sides. Before anything else could happen, I interrupted him.
“Patrick…” I breathed.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” he answered. “I love you so much.” For some reason, the emphasis he added at the end made everything seem a million times better and secure. I love yous were said so often that at times, it almost felt like it was just a habit. It wasn’t, though. It was always more than that. It just took moments like this one for me to remember. Patrick was right before - it was inevitable that we would have more huge, blowout fights in the future. They would probably seem like the end of the world at the time, or maybe the end of our relationship. But if we got through them, we would also have more of the good moments that we thrived for. That would help us through the playoffs and the wedding planning and all the stress that came with everything, I just knew it.

Notes

Comments

@hockeygirl07
Thank you so much! :)

MrsKaner MrsKaner
11/1/14

I just love this story...been reading it right from the start!!! Love your writing and the plot ;) keep up the great work

hockeygirl07 hockeygirl07
11/1/14

Awe. this is so cute, but sad.

Psquared91 Psquared91
5/29/14

AWE! So Cute!

Psquared91 Psquared91
5/10/14

@MrsKaner
HAHA. my BF and I are the two people in the whole school who don't get sick, but when we do Its not as bad as every one else, and we always get each other sick.

Psquared91 Psquared91
3/24/14