-----Elle's POV

I hear keys jingle, the doorknob shake as it gives way to Steve stumbling into the apartment. I sigh, shift my position in our bed, and grimace at the alarm clock shining bright blue on the night table, "2:30am." A rock falls into the very bottom of my stomach. I hear him head to the fridge and slam a glass down onto the counter and the faucet turns on. As he makes his way sluggishly to the bedroom, I feel my body tense and I try to think of what to say to him this time. Steve plops down onto the bed, without bothering to change out of his jeans and sweatshirt and lets out a sigh. He throws one heavy arm over top of my side and within several seconds, before I can say anything to him, he starts to snore loudly.

I switch onto my side and examine his face tediously. As he exhales, I can smell beer in his breath and looks anything but relaxed. He had just told me to go home after the game, which they lost against the Devils, was over tonight. I didn't know what to say to him- so I just said okay and came back to the apartment. I knew he was upset about the game, obviously, but I didn't know why he was acting so coldly towards me. Usually if he stays out with the guys, he sends me a quick text not to worry- but I'm not so sure why this time is so different.

"Steve?" I whisper and poke his shoulder.

"Hmmm" he grumbles.

"Steve?" I whisper a little louder, "Steve?" He says something incoherent and flips over to his side, facing the wall. I let out a disheartening sigh and for the next two hours, I try to fall back asleep while my head runs rampant with questions for him.

The next morning, when I turn off my alarm, Steve curses under his breath and pulls the blankets over his head trying to block out the sunlight coming through the windows.

"Aren't you a ball of sunshine?" I joke and expect him to say something back but he doesn't. I ask him if he wants coffee but still, I don't get a response from him. By the time I'm ready to leave for work, he's still not up- I yell bye as I make my way to the door but George is the only one that notices my absence. Suddenly, I hear his phone start ringing and all I see is the name "Jillian" mocking me. I shake my head, "try not to assume anything," I say aloud and close the door behind me.

*****



The next week goes by slow and Steve is still avoiding a lot of contact. In between work and going to see my father, and Steve practicing a ton and spending time with the guys, our communication with each other is at an all time low.

On Tuesday night for the Ducks game, Ryanne and I sit in a box for the wags and before we take our seats, I pray that the guys win tonight to just help Steve get his confidence back. We say hi to the other girlfriends sitting there which thankfully, I was starting to make friends with them. During the game all of us cheer, scream and yell as the Flyers were tying up the game. My stomach is sent into a whirlwind when the final third period buzzer sounds and they're sent into OT- I never liked overtime and I'm sure nobody else does either.

"It'll be fine- I'm sure the guys will pull through and win- they've been on fire tonight!" Ryanne says placing a hand on my shoulder noticing the worry displayed all over my face.

"I know I just have a really bad feeling about this. Steve really needs this, he's been in a really bad phunk since the end of the preseason- it's like he doesn't have any confidence in his abilities," I say defeatedly.

"Claude was telling me about it- but don't worry it'll be over soon," she smiles.

As soon as they start the shootout, I have a very bad feeling about what the outcome is going to be. I was trying to stay hopeful, and so was everyone else, but in the back of our heads their shoot out record is ringing in the back of our heads. Unfortunately, that night, we are leaving with our head held low booing the other team's victory. When we make our way down to the locker room, it seems oddly quiet and has less energy than usual.

"Hey," I say softly to Steve as he sits at his cubby with his face in his hands.

"Hey" he murmurs without looking up.

"You played so great, it was amazing," I mention trying to brighten his spirits.

"It's like I'm getting hung out to dry."

"Don't worry, everything will come together soon Steve. Don't lose hope yet- you're playing really well."

"Thanks, but you just don't get it Elle," he says finally looking up at me. He stands up gradually and lets out a sigh, "ready to go back?"

"Yeah sure let's go," I mumble and he is already halfway down the hallway. I wave goodbye to Ryanne and some of the guys as I make my way towards Steve.

Since the game, the energy around the apartment is even more sour. I try to act normal and ignore his mood, but he's making it hard to dismiss. Usually bringing him left over sweets from the bakery cheers Steve up but even that wasn't doing the trick anymore. I'm starting to feel ultimately hopeless, so on my lunch break, I call Claude.

"Hey Elle," Claude answers

"Hey, I need help."

His tone shifts and his voice lowers, "What happened? What's wrong?"

"It's about Steve, we're having trouble. He won't talk to me about what's going on and all I'm getting is the cold shoulder- we talk it's just like he's not really all there."

"Wow, I didn't realize. He hasn't mentioned anything to me about it- but he has been in a bad mood lately. I think he's just upset with how the season is going for him so far- and how we're playing in front of him."

"Well, what should I do? He always comes back really late at night and doesn't tell me where he was or even lets me know he'll be out late anymore."

"I wonder where he's been," he murmurs to himself.

"Wait- he hasn't been with you?" I say in a panic as I feel my head get heavier.

"Well, sometimes, but he only stays till about 10:30 usually."

When I digest his words, I feel my stomach turn into 1,000 different kinds of knots. I try to muster up something to say but my mouth is dry and my voice is nowhere to be found.

"Elle? Are you still there?"

"Y-y-yes, I am."

"Listen, don't worry- I'll ask around and see if anybody knows what's going on. In the mean time, try not to worry too much- he's probably having a really hard time trying to get his focus back and start winning games. The press has been nothing but brutal and negative about him this season since he hasn't been at the top of his game."

"Okay, thank you," I manage to say. Claude's words are comforting but still not enough to get rid of my nerves.

"I'll call you if I find out anything okay? I see you soon, Elle,"

"Alright, see you later," I reply and hang up the phone. It's getting hard not to start assuming things after what Claude said about Steve leaving his house relatively early.

When I get back to the apartment, after closing up the bakery, to my surprise the lights are already on and I hear some noise coming from the back room. As I make my way towards the weight room, I hear Steve exhaling and grunting. My breathing hitches as soon as I see him shirtless, lifting weights up and over his head, showing off every muscle in his arms. My eyes follow the trail of his white headphones that go down his sculpted torso and into his gym short pockets. The light makes the sweat on his chest and forehead glisten- it is obvious he's been working out for more than just an hour. It takes him a couple of minutes for him to realize that I'm standing in the door way.

"Oh hey, when'd you get back?" he says as he drops the weights to the floor, and lays his headphones around his neck.

"Just now,"

He nods his head, "how was work then?"

"Good, I'm surprised you're home," I say truthfully, still standing in the doorway.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he says coldly, dabbing the sweat off his face with a t-shirt.

"Nothing, it's just you've been gone a lot at night. What's been going on Steve? You get back so late and you don't give me any heads up like you used to."

"Well I'm just hanging out with the guys, practicing and stuff like that- I'm busy. Which reminds me, the team's leaving tomorrow morning for the Stars game- we'll be back the 23rd."

"Oh yeah that's right. I wish we would've spent more time together," I reply and move towards Steve.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that- I'll call you a lot during the road trip though okay?" he gives me a smile I haven't seen in days and kisses my forehead which makes me feel better about his attitude the past week and a half. Maybe Claude was right, my assumptions were just getting the best of me and nothing's really been happening but my imagination running wild.

We head towards the kitchen where Steve starts to fill up his water bottle and sits at the counter while I attempt to brush some flour off my jeans. I search blindly for something to say to him but I can't find anything. He's leaving tomorrow and he couldn't act anymore distant than he is already- I'm trying to be patient with his bad attitude/phunk but it's proving to be impossible- I just to find some middle ground with him somehow.

"Want to watch a movie?" I ask shyly.

"Nah, not in the mood."

"TV?"

"I'm just gonna go to bed- gotta wake up early," he sighs.

"Oh, alrighty then," I say feeling pathetic- it's like I'm practically begging for his attention.

Steve gets up from the stool, walks towards me, lightly presses his lips against mine, and gives me a small smile, "Love you."

"Love you too," I murmur hoping he'd catch onto what I was feeling- but no luck.

*****

During the road trip, I barely get any calls from Steve- only 3 times during the week, and every time I called, he failed to answer. Watching the games, I knew he was feeling like shit since Berube was only putting in Emery for the time being since Steve's confidence has been at 0 since the start of the season. Every interview with Steve was more disheartening than the next because you could see how low his confidence was in himself and the team- I've never seen him so shaken up before. Even though I love Steve, I didn't know how much more of his distance I could take.

One night after their win in Pittsburg, I try calling Steve to talk to him about the game before they go out to celebrate like they usually do, but once again, he doesn't pick up. I try to shake the negative thoughts out of my head and attempt to distract myself with George and some Tumblr and Netflix. After that fails, I distract myself with ironing our costumes for the Halloween party tomorrow night.

Just as I am about to upload a picture on Instagram, I see a picture posted by Claude of Matt and Wayne with girls. Just as I am about to scroll past it, I see Steve in the very back with some girls practically hanging onto him at a table, which anchors my heart to the base of my chest. My breathing turns shallow and I try to tell myself Steve would never do anything to hurt me but my mind and heart are saying otherwise.

Before I can even catch my breath, tears cloud my vision. I would call Steve to confront him about everything that's been happening but I know it'd be useless since he hasn't been picking up any of my calls. After trying to ignore Claude's post and the assumptions screaming in my head, I call Jamie and tell her everything that's been going on. She picks me up and George and I stay at her and Andy's for the night, leaving an empty apartment behind for Steve to come back to.

Notes

Hey! I'm so sorry about not updating in a while- classes have kicked into full gear and I've been painting and doing studio work like a mad woman! I'm not totally sure how I feel about this chapter but it's just setting up for what's to come! The next chapter should be uploaded within the week since I've already started it and have the next on after that written out. Again, I'm so sorry!

Hopefully you guys like the chapter- the next couple ones will have drama and such too make it interesting! Make sure you comment your thoughts about the chapter/story, I love getting feedback and any tips to improve my writing! Thank you so much for sticking with this story!