Missed Calls

Not once had he come home, called or texted her in the past two days. Tiera didn't want to think of all the possible things happening to him. Especially not the one that involved another woman. She re-dialed his number for the thirtieth time in those two days. She worried even more everytime he didn't pick it up. When it went to his voice mail once again, Tiera cried out in frustration. She wanted to know he was ok, that's all. Was that too hard to ask? Sometimes she felt more like his mother than girlfriend. Of course he never treated her like a girlfriend on top of that. Only talking to her just enough to get through the day. Then he bought her gifts everytime they fought. It never fixed anything but it made Tiera hurt a little more. He was quitting on her, that's what made her heart ache. But she could do without all off the clothes, books, electronics and jewelery. Even the white iPhone she clutched in her hand came from him. Tiera was a simplistic; never took hand-outs or needed high maintenance things. Working as a professor at Loyola in Greek Mythology, she worked day and night for her own money. But she held onto those gifts because it was something from him. Patrick and her were complete opposites, but before it kept them in balance.

The more famous Pat got, the farther Tiera drifted away. It was so hard to pretend that things were the way it was back then. From day one she had been there. Ever since she moved in next to him when the two were both only five years old. He taught her how to play hockey and she told him myths of the Greek gods. From then it was as if someone sewed them together. Then finally after many years Pat came back from Ontario, took her to prom and made it official. She went to Chicago with him when he got drafted. Tiera was there to pick Patrick up from the slammer after a drunken night with his cousin. From there that's when it all started. Tiera tried to ignore the messages left on the answering machines from women leaving detailed thank yous to Patrick himself. She tried let it slide when he came home late smelling like perfume. When they returned from the Stanley Cup Parade late at night, Tiera blew up at him. Just having to witness him make a fool of himself, drunk again. It was too much for her. The next day Patrick went out and bought her a diamond tennis bracelet. He gave it to her with a weak excuse of an apology. Tiera wanted to toss it out the window. Nowadays it was stored away in her jewelery box.

Just text me back Pat, let me know you're ok... She sent the twenty-fifth unanswered text message.

In these situations, Tiera acted like a pushover. As she layed down on the couch and stared at her phone, all she did was wait. That's what she always did. Sit and wait for him to keep coming home. Everytime she knew he had been with someone else. Even though he did all these things to her, Tiera still cooked, cleaned and showed up to his games. As playoffs started up, her days got longer. The routine was go to work, cook for Pat then clean up his messes. She always there for him, but never got anything in return. He had ruined her. The torn beauty worked her ass off for nothing, just another heartbreak. After a while with a big sigh, she turned into the couch cushions and cried herself to sleep.

...☏...

Tiera woke up to the door of their apartment closing. Footsteps approached her spot on the couch. Rolling over she saw Patrick perched by her feet. Sitting up she rubbed eyes wondering if it was real. He was home now. "Look who decides to finally come around." Tiera says with a snippy tone in her tired voice. Patrick looked like a guilty puppy, his gut dropped. He loved her morning voice. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a little, baby blue box from Tiffany's. "I'm sorry I didn't call or text you." No explanation to why he was gone. "Addition to your charm bracelet." He held the box out for her with a smile. Tiera glared down at the box with a dry lump forming in her throat. Shaking her head she pushed Patrick's hand away. "I don't want it."

"Babe, why?" He inquired, scooting closer to her.

"I don't want anymore gifts Pat. All I want is you." Chomping down on the inside of her cheek, Tiera looked away. She wanted to look strong right now. A look of confusion crossed her boyfriends face. "You do have me, Tiera." Shaking her head again, she turned to him. The rush of tears haulted until she looked right into his big blue eyes. "You don't love me like you used to, Pat. If you did... you wouldn't be cheating on me every fucking chance you get." Her voice rose a few octaves. Leaning away from him, Tiera felt disgust. Patrick's eyes grew at Tiera's outburst. He hadn't seen her like this since after the Stanley Cup parade.

"All this shit you bought me you can have it back! All I want is you back. The Patrick I grew up with would want to work all this fighting out and most certainly he would not be sleeping around all of Chicago! Now you're this superficial douche bag I don't know anymore! I hope you know that." Up on her feet, Tiera paced the floor venting all of this. "If you really want me to stay then say so, if you're just going to quit on us, I'm leaving." Staring at him, she let a tear drip out of her eye. The ultimatum shocked Tiera as it did Pat. Patrick was slightly angry partially because of the pounding headache and the fact Tiera was calling him out. Although she was the only one that had shit on him. Patrick Kane didn't like being told off by anyone, he hated knowing he was wrong. In the heat of the moment he gave her his answer, "If you think I've changed, then go. If you're not happy, then go. I'll be fine on my own." It hurt Patrick just to say that. Feeling like he got a stick to the gut, he rushed out of there before his own water works started. Tiera jumped when he slammed the door behind him. Collapsing to the floor, she cried until her tear ducts stung.

...☏...

Patrick heard Tiera's sobs outside of the door. After storming out of there he lingered. Usually he never showed any emotion, but the tears that rolled down his cheeks were enough for a lifetime. Listening to her cry made him cry. He took the elevator down and walked out of the building. Taking a walk to Millennium Park, Patrick pulled the brim of his baseball cap over his eyes and cried some more. An occasional hand wiped at his cheeks and eyes. He loved Tiera more than anybody else in the world but he was prick when showing it. His idea of showing it was those gifts. But as he learned, those gifts were making things worse. He had been hurting her so much, Patrick thought it would be better to let Tiera go. She deserved someone better than him. A man, not a boy like him. Hell, he deserved a serious case of the clap.

A few hours later when he got back to their his apartment, it was silent. Only the ticking of clocks and hum of the fridge was heard. Patrick looked in every room, Tiera was gone. When he came across his bedroom, there was a massive pile of things in the middle of the room. Dresses, shoes, endless jewelery boxes, books and his jersey was in that pile. Picking up the red hockey jersey, Patrick drew in a deep breath. It still smelled like her perfume that he loved. Even that perfume was in the pile. On the Tiffany box from this morning was a sticky note. Don't do this to somebody else, Pat. was scrawled on the note in neat printing. Sitting down on his bed, Patrick held his head in his hands. Eyes watering, he dialed Tiera's number he knew off by heart. It rang and rang. She didn't pick up. He kept calling until he heard a faint buzzing. Hanging up, he shuffled through the pile of each and every gift he had given her. It resembled every fight they had gotten into. The sight was horrifying. In the pile was the white iPhone on top of it's box it came in.

On the screen it read, Ten missed calls: Pat :).