Je t'aime, tu sais?

Gregory Campbell let the door to his apartment slowly swing open in front of him.
It was dark.
After a little while, he forced himself to enter, and slipped the door shut behind him with his toe.
It was darker still.
He sighed, dropping his suit bag and letting his backpack fall off of his shoulder and crumple on the ground.
The only visible light was a strip of city lights that peered through his drawn curtains, hiding their apartment from the rest of downtown Boston.
Well, his apartment, now.
He hadn't been here since she left.
He spent the week with Marchy and then when Katrina came to visit for the weekend he stayed in a Best Western hotel close to the rink. Before he left for the California roadie he went out and bought a couple of suits, too afraid to return to the apartment in Fenway; he wasn't sure he could handle it. He bought new clothes, new shoes, even a new suitcase, and lucky enough for him, none of the guys noticed.
Now, there was no getting out of it.
He had to face the facts.
He was alone now.
Entirely.
He felt behind him for the light switch, his fingertips grazing the dark yellow wall, finding the cream colored switch plate and fingered the toggle.
He flicked it.
His breath caught in his throat and his mouth fell agape. His hands seemed to freeze, inches from covering his shocked expression.
It was as if he moved in slow motion and had been surprised.
Suspended in emotion.
The apartment wasn't empty, but there were big pieces of it missing. A few paintings were gone, a lamp, handfuls of DVDs and books.
Too afraid to move, he shifted his eyes to the kitchen. Her mixer was gone, but, that looked like it.
He softly pressed his fingers to his lips, closing his mouth. His eyes watered, but he was too afraid to blink and allow the salty liquid to stream from their creases.
He felt numb.
As if watching himself from above, he somehow managed to move his feet down the hallway.
All of her toiletries were gone, her shampoo, her razors, her perfumes, her jewelry box.
He felt nauseated.
He thought of the sushi he ate on the plane.
He felt it creep up the back of his throat, raising every single individual hair on his body as it rose, until he was in that familiar cold hot sweat and laced with panic.
Then he would remember that she was gone and the sushi wasn't.
There wasn't even a molecule of her left for him to inhale while the sushi slooshed around his stomach.
Which made him sicker?
He backed out of the bathroom and pushed into the bedroom, pounding the wall for the lights and as they illuminated the room all of the power within him went weak and he quietly sunk to the softly carpeted floor, his back against the massive bed he once shared with another.
Without looking, he could tell her dresser was empty. He knew every picture of them was gone, and he knew that his junior championship ring from the Kitchner Rangers sat on his bedside table, given back to him.
He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He rested his forehead on their bent tops.
And he cried.

Far east on Boston's Waterfront, Marchy's knee cracked as he bent further forward, rubbing his nose and face into the crook of the sleeping little boy's neck.
Owen sighed and mumbled, readjusting his head. Brad kissed his cheek and breathed him in deeply, the scent of his L-Oreal kids shampoo, the hint of blue toothpaste smell that hovered just on his lips, that sweet, milky, little kid smell he had to him, and of course, Katrina's coconut body butter.
Before he could pull his head away, Brad felt Owen move beneath him again, and felt the little boy's hand gently collide with his rough cheek, feeling for him in the dark.
"Hey, hey," Brad softly cooed as Owen's fingers unwrapped from his fist and sleepily felt his older mentor's features.
"Brad?" Owen whispered, still half asleep.
"Hey bud," Brad whispered, sitting higher up on his knees. He gently brushed the little boy's blonde hair away from his forehead and gave him a kiss again. "I'm back."
"Good," Owen breathed, his big, little kid belly breathing deeply, his fingers still tracing Brad's cheek. "Mom and I missed you," he whispered, lazily turning his head to meet Brad's and giving him a tired kiss as the pads of his fingers fiddled with his chin.
"I missed you guys more," Brad whispered back, again brushing Owen's hair away from his face and smiling. He held his little friend's hand and kissed his knuckles and then slipped his arm back under the Ninja Turtle bedsheets.
"I missed you guys something awful," he whispered again, more to himself, placing one last kiss on Owen's cheek before standing and looking down on the sleeping child.
He felt himself smile, as he usually did when he beheld little Owen, but, he also felt no sense of urgency deep in the back of his throat, no weight on his shoulders, compressing him into the soles of his feet.
This time, instead of going to crawl into bed with his girl, wrap his massive arms around her tiny waist and mumble into her hair in wonderful dreams and slumber all night, he pulled Owen's covers off of him, gently pulled him into his chest and carried him, his big hands holding him close, to his king sized bed in the studio apartment.
"Hey mama," March whispered, pulling the down comforter around Katrina down and slipping her Owen.
"Hey babies," Katrina whispered, pulling Owen close to her and smiling as Brad pressed his face into her cheek. As he made his way around the giant foot of his bed, he striped himself of his suit, donned his matching Ninja Turtles shirt, and crawled in on the other side of her, making sure to nuzzle into her hair and wrap his arms around them both.

Due North, Dougie and Adam trudged up the stairs to their apartment on the fifth floor. He waited behind Dougie, bearing a ferocious yawn as Dougie jiggled the keys into the big white door. He kicked it open, wheeled his suitcase inside, and Adam followed.
They threw their keys on the woven bowl on the countertop in the kitchen, turning no lights on. The blinds of their massive bay windows that you faced immediately upon entering the apartment were open and the North End shone bright enough for them both to find their own rooms. Adam, who had lived here the longest and agreed to take Dougie in during his rookie season, had the master bedroom, situated behind the kitchen on the right of the apartment. Dougie had claimed one of the guest bedrooms to the left.
With a muttered goodnight, a cough and a nod, the two defensemen parted ways, lumbering into the darker halls, towards their solace for the night.

Tucked away in the dark of the Back Bay, Jamie's sigh collided with the soft skin of Patrice's nose and cascaded down his rough cheeks, curling and slipping down his neck as it throbbed with blood quickly tunneling its way through his body to fill his head. Lip-locked, Jamie held his face before her with her hands as she felt him pulse inside of her and his chest hammer against her breasts.
He sighed, contently, returning the rush of air to her face and spreading its warmth all over her cheeks. As he did so he gently turned his head, deepening their kiss.
Now that they had both climaxed, their movement was much less urgent and more romantically lazy. Patrice pushed his arms up under hers, flattening his body against hers and rubbing his face into hers. She wrapped her arms around his head and turned her face to meet his, lip-locking him again. He smiled in their kiss.
"Can I fall asleep like this?" He asked in a hushed voice. "Inside you like this," he whispered, rubbing his nose into her cheek as his body began to harden with a stretch. Jamie felt it in his arms underneath her first, then felt it travel up his biceps and ripple through his chest and stomach, his hips then tightening, causing him to initially slip away from her, but then push deeper inside of her. She tensed at his intimate movement, not expecting it, and he grumbled happily as she gripped him tightly from inside, instinctually. His stretch soon rolled down his legs as he pointed his toes and stretched his calves, rustling the sheets below them.
"Mh, Patrice," Jamie cooed, tightening her muscles around him again and feeling his hip flexors tense as his breath got caught halfway up his throat.
"You're so warm inside," he sighed, nuzzling his face into the side of her own.
"You're so big," she whispered, kissing his ear, which moved under her lips as she felt him crack a smile. "And strong." She kissed his temple again, referring to his body but knowing she was stroking his ego.
"Yeah?" He quietly asked, rearranging himself so that he was only half on top of her, allowing her to breathe more freely. He groaned as he slipped out of her, but was quickly reassured by Jamie sliding her arm underneath his neck and locking her arm around his head, holding his forehead to her cheek. With her other hand, she drew slow, big circles on his naked back.
"Yes," she smiled, massaging him through his thick, strong hair. She felt his skull underneath the thin skin of his scalp and thought of how much of a cushion his hair must provide him. She leaned down to kiss the top of his head and took in his masculine musk, the delicate perspiration she just gently rocked out of him, the scent of his Aqua di Gio shampoo.
"I love you," he declared in a soft whisper, rubbing his nose into his cheek.
Jamie softly closed her eyes and smiled as she felt his body get heavier and his big toe twitch. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and gave his bicep a gentle squeeze.
"I duneven member what my life was like before I met you," he breathed. "I duneven..." he tried to tell her but he fell asleep before he could finish, his mouth just the slightest bit ajar.

Due north, on a mattress in her brand new apartment, surrounded by a few boxes of her unpacked things and a suitcase that looked like it had been raided on the ground next to her, Emily giggled.
She re-illuminated her iPhone's screen and chuckled again at Dougie's snide comment.
They had been texting since he landed over two hours ago almost non-stop. They weren't talking about anything in particular, but just enjoying one another's company.
Although Jamie had signed the lease with Emily just that morning, she was only able to move a few of her own things in with her sister before she skipped away to tidy Patrice's apartment and welcome him home. Emily knew she wouldn't see her sister tonight, or maybe even tomorrow night, so, it was nice to have someone to share the excitement of a new beginning with, and Dougie was certainly eager for someone to chat with.
Her phone gently vibrated, signaling another text.
"Have you responded to Adam yet?" Dougie asked. Emily rolled her eyes, not in frustration but at the poor defenseman's lack of social skills. Adam was painfully quiet and reserved; Emily was vibrant and outgoing, and when she was met with a simple "haha." or "lol", it really turned down her game.
"Oh... was I supposed to respond to "haha thanks"? Haha" she texted Dougie back, sarcastically.
"Oh come on Em. He's great he just takes a year or two to warm up to people :P" Dougie replied, sticking up for his friend.
Emily laughed out loud, turning over onto her side and pulling her comforter up around her shoulders.
"But srsly Em. He's a good guy. And if you're looking for good friends he'll defo be one. He's my best friend. I gotta go to bed now for real though. Nice talk :)"
"Night Dougs :)" Emily texted back, silencing her phone and letting it rest on the soft brown sheets of her bed. She eyed it, suspiciously.
Momentarily, she wondered what Jamie and Patrice were doing.
Reaching for her phone, she clicked the unlock button and took note of the time. At a quarter to four in the morning, she could only imagine they were sleeping... or that they were still both getting lucky.
She quickly took her phone and rolled over again, displacing the image.
She thought of Adam.
Maybe she should text him.

Much closer than he could know at the time, Adam was roused from his sleep by the obnoxious grinding of a vibrating plastic phone on his wooden bedside table.
Not entirely awake, he thought he was dreaming when he squinted through the dark and attempted to read the screen of his phone.
"Hope you made it back safe alright :)" Emily had wished him.
He must be dreaming.
Completely drained from travel and play, he couldn't muster himself to respond, but did roll over and fall back asleep, happier than a clam.

Across the hall, growing tired in her new apartment, Emily watched as her text message to him turned from "delivered" to "read," but was only met with no response.
Sighing, she tossed the phone onto the carpeted floor beneath her mattress and rolled around until she was comfortable enough to fall asleep.