I watch on the television as Jonathan Toews hoists the Stanley Cup.
Tears fill my eyes as I think about Steven and the rest of the team. I almost decide to call him, but then I remember how upset he gets after a loss and then decide against it.
I sit there on the couch in disbelief for hours, still trying to comprehend what happened.
The next day, Steven texts me and lets me know that he'll be home sometime today.
I don't even know how I should react to this. Should I console him or would that make him feel worse if I brought it up? Does he want to talk about it or just pretend that it didn't happen? Should I pretend it didn't happen?
Steven gets so touchy when it comes to these things, so I expect that he'll be a lot worse since it was the Stanley Cup Final.
Eventually I hear a knock on the door and my heart pounds. He's here.
I just don't want to say the wrong thing and have him explode at me.
I walk to the door and open it, trying my hardest to act normal. Steven stands there with his bags, his eyes puffy and red from crying.
I immediately engulf him into a hug.
"I'm so happy you're back. I missed you." I kiss his cheek.
"If we hadn't had lost then you wouldn't have seen me today." He mumbles, trudging into the house.
"Then I would have missed you even more!" I say, trying to keep the mood light.
"Yeah." He brings his bags into the bedroom and sets them down on the floor before sitting down on the bed.
I walk over and sit down next to him, his eyes in a blank stare. I wrap my arms around him and hug him, hoping to ease the pain.
"You know it's not your fault, right?" I ask him.
"It is my fault." He blames himself for the loss.
He always blames himself. It's never not his fault. That's the one thing I hate about him being considered a leader. He always decides for himself that it was his fault, when it was really no ones fault at all. The Blackhawks just played better.
"No, it's not!" I yell. "You always think this way and it's not true!" I pull back from hugging him and turn his face towards mine. "Even though you're considered the leader, you cannot blame yourself. You can't blame anyone."
"I don't know..." He says, unconvinced.
"You make yourself so upset over this. I'm not saying that you shouldn't be disappointed or angry, but you really blame yourself for everything, which you shouldn't do." I pause. "Don't you understand how hard it is for me to see you like this? It hurts me so much to see you so upset with yourself, so why don't we try to forget about it and just spend the time together that we rarely get."
"I didn't know it upset you so much, (Y/N)." He leans down towards me. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." I kiss him. "Let's go out to dinner and then go see that movie we've been dying to see." I smile and take his hand, walking out of the room.
~
"Thank you." He says after we get home from dinner and the movie theater.
"For what?" I question.
"For making me feel better. You have a habit of doing that." He smiles at me.
"I'm glad you're feeling better." I hug him. "You make me feel pretty happy, too."
He leans down and kisses me, locking his lips with mine. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer into him and deepening the kiss.
"I guess you are feeling better." I mumble against his lips.
He smiles and takes my face into his hands, kissing me for the whole night.
