Misery

As soon as Catherine stepped out of her and Adam’s building into the still cold March wind, she felt tears stinging at her eyes. She sucked in a deep breath, not wanting to cry. She lifted her head high and began walking to where her Hyundai Tucson was parked. She put her hands in the pockets of her hoodie as she walked through the chilly parking garage, frowning as she realized it was Adam’s sweatshirt.

She shook her head and climbed in, turning the radio up, trying to block out her thoughts. She wasn’t successful, as she drove through the streets of downtown Chicago, not knowing where she was going. As she drove along Lake Shore Drive, she pulled off, suddenly needing someone to talk to.

Pulling up in front of her friend, Aimee’s, Wicker Park apartment building, Catherine was more near tears than ever. Catherine ran up the three flights of stairs and knocked on Aimee’s door, waiting for her to answer.

Aimee was the only friend that Catherine had in Chicago besides Adam. Cat didn’t really hang out with any of her coworkers, so if it wasn’t for the bubbly and fun girl Catherine had met on the El, she was sure she would have gone crazy of loneliness. Aimee was also the only person outside of Catherine and Adam and their families that knew their story.

When Aimee pulled the door open she smiled at Catherine, but as soon as she saw the tears and the rosy cheeks, she through her arms around the crying girl.

“Cat… What happened, honey?” The brunette cooed, ushering the red-headed Catherine into her apartment.

Catherine wiped her green eyes and looked at Aimee, just shaking her head.

“Adam?” Aimee sighed, pulling Catherine onto the couch.

“Well,” Catherine paused, taking a deep breath. “I yelled at him.”

“Of course he di- ” Aimee’s eyes went wide. “Wait. What?”

“I told him I was sick of his shit and I left,” Catherine said, finding her voice.

“Wow,” Was all Aimee could get out. “Honey, I am so proud of you.”

Catherine only nodded, running a hand through her straight hair.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel… guilty?” Catherine said, almost questioning herself.

“Cat. You do not.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea.”

“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” Aimee told her, standing and walking into her kitchen, grabbing a glass of water.

Aimee handed it to Catherine, who took a big gulp of it, finally having calmed down. She leaned back against the couch, as Aimee turned on the television. Her cell rang pulling her from her thoughts, and she sighed, noticing it was Adam. She pressed ignore and her guilt intensified.

She wasn’t sure why she felt guilty, that much was true. She knew Aimee was right. There was no reason for her to feel guilty. After dealing with Adam for so long, she snaps on him once and she feels like she owes him the world in apology? It wasn’t right, she knew, shaking her head. Adam didn’t deserve an apology. If anything, her yelling at him didn’t even begin to compare what he had done to her.

“Hey,” Aimee said, catching Catherine’s attention. “We’re going out tonight.”

Catherine shook her head, setting her glass of water down, “What?”

“We’re going out tonight, drinking, and getting hot guys to buy us those drinks.”

“Aimee…”

“No, Cat. Fuck Adam.”

“Aimee!”

“No, Cat. He’s an asshole.”

“You sound like Cam.”

“Who’s Cam?”

Catherine sighed and shook her head, “Cam Janssen of the St. Louis Blues.”

Aimee looked confused, “How do you know him?”

Catherine shrugged, “I met him at the game last week.”

“And..?”

“And nothing; He’s a friend.”

“Mhm,” Aimee laughed.

Catherine rolled her eyes and hopped into the shower, never having taken a proper one at her and Adam’s place. She savored the feel of the hot water on her skin. As she rinsed her body of soap, she let her head fall against the wall of the shower, tears flowing freely. She felt stupid for being so dramatic, but no one understood what she was feeling. As terrible as Adam had been treating her, her heart ached when she was away from him.

After a day of lounging around with Aimee, a dinner of pizza, the two girls were dressed and ready to head to a bar. Aimee was excited to drink and pick up guys, while Catherine just wanted to drink and maybe flirt. Adam deserved it, right?

The two girls walked in and Catherine immediately spotted a group of guys at the bar, and she quickly scanned over them sighing in relief that Adam was not there with them. Her cell buzzed, like it had been doing all day. Every ten minutes Adam had been calling her.

“Aimee, Chicago Blackhawks, three o’clock.”

Aimee’s head whipped to the right, glancing at the bar.

“Adam’s not here.”

Aimee nodded, “Who is?”

“Colin Fraser, Troy Brouwer, Dave Bolland, and Andrew Ladd,” Catherine said, pointing at each one.

“Who was the second one?”

”Troy Brouwer,” Catherine replied, looking to Aimee to see her grinning and looking over Troy.

“Oh, god,” Catherine laughed, rolling her eyes and heading to a table, the Blackhawks’ eyes following her.

Aimee laughed, too and followed.

“They’re looking at us.”

Catherine knew she shouldn’t have listened to Aimee on her outfit choice. Dressed in a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, black stilettos and a shiny silver tank top that showed off the cleavage she suddenly had thanks to Aimee’s push up bra, she knew she was going to get attention. If that hadn’t been enough, Aimee insisted on curling Catherine’s bright red hair and putting make-up on her.

“Not good,” Catherine sighed, as they sat down.

“It’s actually perfect,” Aimee told her.

“What are you talking about?” She asked, as the four Hawks players stood from the bar, coming to where Aimee and Catherine sat.

“Flirt with one of them, hook up with one of them, whatever; Just get back at Adam.”

Catherine was about to open her mouth to protest, but the four of them sat down, introducing themselves. The girls told them their names and Andrew quickly left to grab the girls their drinks of choice.

As the night wore on, Catherine was left alone at the table with Dave. Andrew and Colin had gone to find girls of their own, and Aimee and Troy… Well, Catherine didn’t know where they had gone to. She found herself loving the company of Dave, being able to laugh and joke with him.

“Dave? Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” He said, sipping his beer.

“I have a boyfriend.”

He nodded, “I figured you did by the way you were acting. So… unlike Aimee?”

She laughed along with him, “She’s something else, huh?”

“Are you happy?”

“With my boyfriend?”

He nodded. And she shook her head lightly.

“Not at the moment.”

He nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “He’s stupid.”

She laughed, “That’s what everyone says, but it’s kind of funny coming from you.”

He looked confused, “Why?”

“You just called your teammate stupid.”

“My teammate..?”

”Adam Burish.”

“He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, that’s what he tells people unfortunately.”

Dave looked like he didn’t believe her. Catherine smiled, not expecting him to believe her. She slipped out her cell phone and showed Dave the pictures of her and Adam she had on there, as well as the thirty missed calls from his number, the same number Dave had saved in his phone as Adam’s number.

“Holy shit…” Was all he could say. “I… what?”

“Six years we’ve been together.”

Dave looked at her with a pitying look on his face, as if he was thinking about her being Adam’s girlfriend when he knew all of the girls Adam hooked up with on the road and in Chicago.

Catherine’s cell phone buzzed again and Dave snatched it, looking at the caller ID. It was Adam and he answered it.

“Adam,” Dave answered, putting it on speaker phone.

“Boley? Did I call you? I was trying to call…” He trailed off, and Catherine could only clutch her eyes closed.

“Your girlfriend?”

“Uh… yeah?”

“You are a dick.”

And Dave hung up the phone. Catherine could only smile.