I'd Lie

Boston got eliminated in in the first round of the playoffs by Montreal, losing three to two at home in shootouts. At the end of the game I sighed and made my way down to the locker room, opting to sit next to Kayla. A silence hung over the whole room and I didn't dare say a word; in a situation like this there wasn't really anything that needed to be said. Patrice, who has missed his shootout goal, was the last to enter the locker room after his shower and when I saw him, I stood up to meet him halfway. His eyes swept the room before finally settling on my and I give him my best attempt at a smile, contemplating what to tell him in a situation like this. As soon as I'm close enough he grabs me and holds onto me tightly, burying his face in my neck. I already know what he's thinking; he's blaming this whole loss on himself just because he missed his shootout goal.

"Stop it," I tell him gently, rubbing his back.

"Stop what?" he mumbles against my skin, refusing to move.

"Blaming yourself for not making that goal. Don't deny it because I know that's what you're thinking about right now. This loss isn't your fault, you guys came out and played hard but the Habs had just a little more passion that you guys did. You'll get them next year,"

"It's the first time in years that we even qualified for the playoffs and we lose in the first round. There were three separate occasions when I should have made goals not counting the shootout round," he replies, his voice shaky. "I feel like I let the team down,"

"You can't get them all, you win shootouts and you lose shootouts. You're not letting anyone down," I reply.

Patrice merely nods at me and I help him pack up the entirety of his locker before we head back out to his truck in dead silence. As always, he stopped to take care of his fans along the way and it takes us about forty-five minutes to actually get to his car. Instead of dropping me off at my house, he decides to take me to his place so we can spend some time together before he goes back up to Canada for the summer. I don't object and except for the radio, the car ride is silent. Once we get back to his place, the first thing he does is turn on the TV which was left on NESN from the last time I was over. NESN's showing the highlights of tonight's game and before they can reach the end, I flip the channel. As I'm flipping through the channels to find something enlightening to watch. He sits on the couch next to me and I gently rub his shoulders, trying to think of a way to lighten his mood. As much as I wanted to tell him, I get the feeling that now might not be the appropriate time to tell him how I really feel about him