Patrick woke up the following morning with a knot in his neck and his head pounding in sync with the rhythm of his heartbeat. He groaned as he tried to sit up, clutching his head and slowly opening his eyes to adjust for the morning light that peaked through the window shades. He tried to orient himself with his surroundings, immediately realizing that he was in his own bedroom, with no idea how he had even gotten there.

He realized he was still in last night's clothes, which reeked of spilt vodka and cranberry juice. More importantly, he noticed that Maddy's side of the bed was still perfectly made.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself. If she had slept in the guest room, he knew he was in a lot of hot water.

As he tried to piece together the events that transpired the night before, he could only vaguely remember taking shots with the boys and getting a little handsy with Maddy at the bar. Rubbing his hands over his face, he decided to delay getting yelled at by his fiancee a little longer and hopped in the shower to wash off last night's mess. Once he was showered and dressed in sweatpants, he made his way out of their bedroom and towards the kitchen. Getting a glass of water and popping an Advil was the only thing his mind could process with his hangover. On his way, he peeked into the guest bedroom to check on Maddy and saw that it was empty. The bed had clearly been left untouched, which could only mean she had fallen asleep in the living room. A feeling of dread began to wash over him.

He walked out into the living room, only to find Maddy asleep on the couch. Dried mascara was on her cheeks and he knew, once again, that he had messed up.

How am I going to talk my way out of this one? He thought to himself. His feet softly padded against the flooring as he made his way into the kitchen, which was enough to stir Maddy from her uneasy slumber.

The movement and noise coming from the kitchen alerted her to the fact that Patrick was finally up. She glanced around, noticing that Jon had left sometime earlier. As she heard his footsteps finally leaving the kitchen, she sat up and pondered what to do. She was still angry-- no, furious, -- with him, to the point where she didn't even want to look at him. She could feel his presence lingering by the doorway before he finally walked into her peripheral vision and sat in the love seat across from her.

Patrick didn't know what else to say other than mutter her name to get her attention, and somehow that managed to make her even more mad. At the sound of his voice she silently arose from the couch and walked past him, without even sparing him a glance.

Pat hung his head low and cursed to himself. The silence was much worse than being yelled at. While Pat quickly ate his cereal, Maddy hurriedly threw on fresh clothes and fixed her hair. She couldn't even stand to be in the same space as him for the time being. She didn't know where she was going to go, but anywhere other than their stifling apartment would be an improvement.

While she got ready, Patrick finished up his cereal and after placing it in the sink walked into their bedroom to talk to her. He cautiously walked toward the vanity she stood in front of, stopping a foot shy. She briefly glanced at him through the mirror, but their shared eye contact lasted no more than a few seconds.

Fuck, he thought to himself. He had really done it this time.

"I'm sorry." he muttered. Maddy lightly scoffed, low enough that Pat didn't even hear it.

"For what?" Her voice was cold and sharp and gave Pat goose bumps. Never had he heard that tone of voice from her before. She turned to face him and glared. He remained silent and she knew that he couldn't even remember what it was that he had done.

"Do you enjoy waking up feeling like shit? Is getting drunk really worth it?" As mad as she was it was still a genuine question. She still couldn't grasp why the hell he felt compelled to drink and make a complete ass out of himself.

"I'm sorry Madds." he repeated. It was the only phrase that he could actually say. Just by the look she was giving him, he knew nothing he said was going to make the situation better. Maddy only shook her head and scoffed again.

"That was the last time I will ever go out with you again. You completely embarrassed me in front of all your teammates."

He looked everywhere but right into her eyes. He felt like a little kid, getting scolded for taking too many cookies from the jar. Maddy threw her hands in the air, startling him.

"Do you really have nothing to say?" Maddy stared at him, waiting for an answer. Any answer. But she was met with silence and a guilty stare. At that point her anger started to get the best of her and she knew she had to leave before she said things she wouldn't be able to take back.

"I'm tired of making excuses for you Patrick," she said as she brushed past him and briskly walked into the kitchen. By the time he caught up with her, she was throwing her phone in her bag, putting it on her shoulder, and grabbing her keys off of the table. Panic began to rise up within him at the realization that she was walking out on him.

"Maddy, I know I fucked up okay?" he hurriedly spit out. "I don't know what else to say to you other than I'm sorry."

He ran his hands over his face and sighed. "I'm sorry I put you in that position. I promise it won't be an issue again."

Maddy could only shake her head. How many times had she heard the same apology and promise?

"But that's the thing Patrick, you've made that same fucking promise before and look where we are! Something needs to change, Pat. I'm tired of feeling more like your mother, putting you to bed at night, than your fiancé."

She could feel her throat start to constrict and turned toward the front door before he saw the tears that were starting to cloud her vision.

"I'm meeting my sister for lunch. Make sure you lock up when you leave later," she said, without even bothering to look back at him as she slammed the door shut behind her.

Patrick let out a loud groan and pulled at his hair. "Fuck me."

//

After a shower and a quick run on the treadmill to sweat out the previous night's liquor, Patrick grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to Jon asking what had happened last night. He wanted to get a grasp on the gravity of the situation and much he needed to grovel and apologize. If anyone would know of the details of last night and his utter stupidity, it would be Jon. Less than a minute later his phone buzzed, Jon calling instead of sending a text back. When he answered, he wasn't met with a normal greeting, rather a pissed off best friend.

"You're really in deep shit, man." Jon immediately said. Once again, Patrick sighed and asked for the details. Jon told him everything, from the amount of drinks he had, to the things he said to Maddy, to the events that took place when they got back to the condo. Well, everything except the confessions Maddy has made. That, he knew, was confidential and not meant to be shared.

"Dude she was crying last night until she fell asleep. I've never seen Maddy this unhappy. What the fuck is going on?"

"She's pissed about my drinking," he admitted. On the other end of the receiver, Jon was shaking his head and thinking about all of the times he had warned Patrick about how he and alcohol were a dangerous mix.

"I really don't know what else to tell you other than you need to get your shit together or she's going to end up walking away, man" he finally replied. It was the only advice he could give him.

"Fuck, Jon, I know." Of course he knew that, but turned a blind eye to it.

"If you know that, then why the hell haven't you done anything about it?"

"I'm trying, man!" Patrick all but yelled into the phone. Jon sighed and threw one final question he kept asking himself since Maddy's tear-filled confession.

"But are you really?"

The conversation went silent. All that could be heard was the breathing of the two friends. Both of them knew the real answer to that question, only Patrick felt too sick to his stomach to actually admit the truth.

The only real question that remained was how in the hell he was going to fix this; not just the situation, but their relationship.

Notes

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