"Addie, seriously, I can do this" Jon growled menacingly. I took a step back, putting my arms up in defeat. He was having trouble getting up of the wheelchair to the bed, and often needed someone to give him a hand. The more days that passed, the seemingly worse his walking became. He was spending more time in the wheelchair or in bed, than he had when he first came home.

"I was just trying to help" I retorted, getting frustrated with his recent treatment of me. He always seemed to snap at me, no matter what it was. I tried to help, he'd bitch me out, I tried to start a conversation, it ended in him yelling at me. I had never felt more unloved from Jon in my entire life; I felt as though I had lost my husband, and my best friend.

"I know" he snapped, struggling to get on the bed. I watched as he struggled, and tears began to form in my eyes, slowing falling down my face. I made no effort to wipe them away as I watched his continuous struggle of getting into bed. I sighed lightly, as he finally collapsed onto the bed, maneuvering himself into a comfortable position. Finally, he looked around proudly. "I told you I could do it" he sneered.

"I didn't say you couldn't do it" I shot back. "I just wanted to help you. You know, like a wife does for her husband? Or did you forget we're married" I added in slight anger and disappointment.

"Addie. I don't need your help. I can do this on my own" he rolled his eyes. "I'm not handicapped I'm just-"

"No, you know what? You are handicapped Jon. You can barely walk; barely life a fork. You pretty much stay in a wheelchair 24/7 and guess what! I still love you regardless. I want to help you, Jon. That's all I want; I love you more than anything, and I've missed you this past year. I'm your wife, and as much as you hate it when people do things for you, it's something that's becoming a reality. Emma comes tomorrow, what are you going to say to her?" I rambled off. It was getting beyond frustrating for me; how did Jon seem to just forget we were even married? He was fine with Ryder and Aveyah; but the more days that passed, the further away he would pushed me.

He was silent. He sat in the bed, looking around the room, anywhere but at me; anywhere but in my eyes. "I don't need you, or your help. I can do it on my own" he repeated, still maintaining an intense staring contest with the floor.

"Well, if that's how you feel" the tears welled up in my eyes. "I'll sleep elsewhere from now on" I spat, taking the last of his shit. he didn't say anything, making the tears fall harder and I ran out from the bedroom we shared together.

Running down the stairs, I knew exactly where I wanted to go. Ryder and Aveyah were sound sleep, but I was wide awake. Wide awake, tears flowing consistently down my face. I put on my shoes, my favourite coat, and my gut ugg boots. There was nothing I liked more than a walk around the park Jon and I had gotten married at.

"Ouf, shit Patrick! I'm sorry I- I didn't know you were there" I rambled, trying my best to cover my tears. He set his bag down, just having returned from a very successful road trip; 3-0-1.

"Just got back, Addie, why are you crying!?" He asked worriedly, wiping away my tears gently with his thumb. I stood there for a moment, loving the feeling of his soft skin on mine.

"I- I'm not crying" I tried to cover up. We both laughed, realizing how stupid I was to think Pat didn't know what was up. " it's Jon" I mumbled, knowing he would someone get me to spit it out anyway.

"Here, let me make us some hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows; and I'll meet you down stairs in the living room. There's some fleece blankets down there, and of course Netflix. Patrick always knew what to say to cheer me up. I smiled, nodding and silently making my way downstairs to the part of the house I really didn't see much of. Walking downstairs, I noticed it was a lot neater than I had originally thought. I plopped down on the couch, eyeing the room with satisfaction. It was the ultimate man cave down here; both his and Jon's versions medals, awards, jerseys, and all hockey memorabilia were around on walls, and out on display. A great recliner with matching coffee tables and two love seats to math.

Once I finished scanning the room, I broke down into more tears. I couldn't believe the way Jonathan was acting since he got back from the hospital. I understood it had been a year. I understood he just met his baby girl for the first time, and saw his son two years of age. I understood that he was upset over not playing hockey, and having to depend on other people for things; but treating me like shit wasn't helping his case.

"Two hot chocolates" Patrick smiled, handing me my almost overflowing mug. On top were a few mini marshmallows, on top of the whipped cream. Caramel and melted chocolate drizzle overtop the whipped cream, making me drool.

"So love your hot chocolates" I spoke softly, taking one in my hand and taking a small inhale. He. Laughed, both of us taking out first sips at the same time.

"What's wrong?" He asked, worrying in his eyes.

"Jon... He's being a major dick" I sighed, trying to not cry,

"What's he doing?" Patrick asked. He had been fortunate enough to be away for all of our fights; he probably had no idea how much we were fighting lately.

"To make a long story short, he doesn't need me, or my help, and I'm sleeping on the couch tonight" I informed him. "It's like he doesn't even love me anymore" I sighed with a frown. "Does he hate me!?" I asked, a little freaked out.

"Still fighting?" He. Asked with a knowing look.

"You hear us?" I asked, turning a million shades of red.

"You're not exactly quiet..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"I'm so, so sorry'! I didn't want you to get involved but-"

"Im not involved. He's being fine with me; and the rest of the team. He probably just felt it's hard having you do every single little thing for him. I think having Emma here will let him see a little bit of how he's acting, and take a lot of the pressure off from you" Patrick tried to reason.

"What if. He doesn't want anything to do with me?" I asked, thinking of the absolute worst scenario. "He cares about Ryder and Aveyah, and he just yells and me and freaks out for no reason; what the hell do I do!?" I cried on Patrick's shoulder. He held me, not saying a word as he stroked my back and let me cry.

"Ready for some netflix?" Patrick asked, seemingly trying to get my mind off of the fight Jon had just had. I smiled, knowing exactly what I wanted to watch.


The night spent with Patrick was something that was well needed. We talked about anything and everything ate a lot, drank a fair amount, and watched some terrible movies on netflix. By the end of the night, we were passed out drunk on the couch.

"Bed" Patrick stated simply.

"I have no bed..." I trailed off, remembering the fight Jon and I had had earlier that evening.

"You can stay in the spare guest room; duh" Patrick laughed, the answer of course being obvious. I smacked my head, wondering how I didn't think of that!

"My bed is better; I don't mind" he was the more sober one of the hint of us. He gently carried me all the way to the bedroom, where the comfortable bed helped me into a deep sleep, thinking about Emma, and what she would bring. My hope would be she would stop Jon and I from fighting about the subject too much.

Notes

So sorry it's so short!! I have bad news... :( I, going away for a week to a place with zero wifi :( :( but worry not! In a week, there will be lots and lots of updates; I'll writing while I, away! Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this story! Comment, rate Subscribe and love it!

happy reading! Xx