The horn in the United Center sounds, signaling the end of third period. I sigh, upset at the outcome. The Blackhawks have fallen to the Rangers, the final score 3-2. Jonathan had multiple chances to score, but none of them went through. It's nearing the end of the season and I know how much these games mean to the team, especially Jonathan.
I get up out of my seat and begin to walk toward the locker room to meet Jonathan. I know how upset he's going to be, so I start to think of some things I could do to make him feel better. After a loss, sometimes he gets angry, but sometimes he's just sad. When he gets angry, he goes crazy and says some of the worst things to me, but when he's sad, he says almost nothing - only his thoughts taking up his mind.
Jonathan walks out of the locker room, showered and dressed. He says nothing, but motions for me to begin walking to the car with him. We walk, both of us caught up in silence. How can I make him feel better? I'm afraid if I say something that he will just explode on me and will never want to see me again.
I unlock my car and get into the drivers seat as Jonathan slams the passenger door shut. He puts his head in his hands, sighing. I start the car and begin to drive home, breaking the silence just before we reach the apartment.
"It's not your fault." I murmur, reaching for his hand.
"Yes, it is!" He yells, pulling his hand away from mine.
"No, it's not!" I reason with him. "It's no ones fault. You know how good the Rangers are defensively, and how well Lundqvist performs when it comes down to it."
He shakes his head, "But I had so many chances. I should have scored at least once!"
"You always do this, you always think that you need to pull the team." I park the car in front of our apartment building, turning off the engine. "Guess what, Jonathan? You're not the only player on the team. All of you played the best you could, and you shouldn't give yourself a hard time for it. You know how hard you work when you're playing a game... There was no possible way you could have played better. I saw the determination on your face. I see it every single game night. And I hate to see you blame yourself for something you can't control."
He looks out the window, taking in all of my words. He pauses for a moment, thinking about what he's going to say.
"I can't be making excuses for myself. Not this close to playoffs."
"But you're not. I know you play the hardest when you're out there, so how could you have possibly played better?" I pose a question that he can't answer.
He opens the car door, frustrated at my words. He knows that I'm right, otherwise he would have retaliated with something else.
I follow him into the building and up to our apartment, beginning to become frustrated as well. I walk in and close the door behind me. I decide to get ready to go to sleep since Jonathan probably won't talk to me until the morning.
I lay down in bed and turn on the TV, my mind drifting to what's on the screen. I forget about what happened just a half hour ago, until Jonathan opens the door and slides into bed next to me.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so nervous about playoffs that I've been taking it out on you. You've been the only reason why I've been sane during moments like these. Thank you for always being there. I honestly don't know how I would be able to handle these things without you."
I turn towards him, forgetting the movie on the television. "It's fine, Jon. I know how much hockey means to you and I'm so happy that you're living your dream everyday, but I just don't like how you blame yourself so much that you can't enjoy the actual game. I know it gets intense on you, but you have to understand that not everything is your fault."
"Well, that's why I have you here to tell me otherwise." We both smile, forgetting everything that happened tonight.
"I'll always be here, Jon." I place my hand on the side of his face and gently kiss his forehead.
"I know you will."
