Illicit Love

Gabriella sat in agony as she impatiently waited for Carl to return home from his game that night. They had just played against Philadelphia, who had destroyed the Rangers in a 4-0 victory. The score alone would have been enough to put Carl in a sour mood, but the fact that he had played like shit the whole game and caused two turnovers that had allowed the Flyers to score would surely put him over the top.

Truth be told, Gabriella had never seen Carl play so terribly in his entire life. He was slow, lazy, and didn’t have a good sense for the ice that night. None of his passes ever seemed to connect, and he couldn’t shoot if his life had depended on it. She knew he would be pissed at himself when he got back to the apartment, and Gabriella didn’t really want to stick around for it. But since she was leaving in two weeks for Nationals, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before she left.

Glancing at the clock, she noticed that it was almost 11 o’clock. Carl would be home any minute now. As she heard heavy footsteps nearing the door, Gabriella picked up the remote and started scrolling through Netflix. She hoped that a movie might be a good enough distraction to get his mind off of the game.

Gabriella cringed in her seat as the door slammed shut. She didn’t bother to get up and greet him, for she knew that he would head straight towards the kitchen to pour himself a shot of vodka. Or three.

As Carl drank in the kitchen, Gabriella could think of nothing else to do but sit in the living room silently. She wanted to tell him not to be so hard on herself, but she couldn’t. She was the exact same way when it came to her figure skating. She was always her harshest critic, and she did not want to become a hypocrite by telling Carl to ease up on himself. “Do you want to watch a movie?” she finally called out. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer as she braced herself for his response.

Carl stormed into the room, a disheveled mess. His suit jacket had been discarded somewhere along the way, his tie hanging limp around his neck, and the top three buttons of his shirt undone. And most unbelievable, his flow not gelled perfectly back. “No, I don’t want to watch a fucking movie,” he spat angrily. “I don’t deserve to watch a fucking movie. Not after that pathetic performance tonight. I’m a pathetic excuse of a hockey player.”

As Carl rambled, Gabriella sat on the couch, biting her tongue. She did not dare to look at Carl, not with his rage. Instead, she stared at her twiddling thumbs. “Come on, Carl, let’s just sit and watch a movie. I think Wolf of Wall Street is on,” she suggested, her voice not daring to rise above a whisper.

Carl’s fingers tugged at his blond locks in frustration. “Did you not hear a fucking word I said?” The anger boiling inside of him was becoming overbearing, and he needed to find a way to release it. Glancing around the living room, he found no better option than the innocent lamp that sat on the end table. He quickly picked it up and smashed it on the floor, hoping it would relieve some of his stress. It didn’t work.

As soon as the lamp hit the floor, Gabriella shot up off the couch, cowering in fear towards the far wall. She had never seen Carl so angry, and she immediately began to fear for her safety. She had never before thought that he would ever lay a hand on her, but then again, she had never thought he could get like this.

At this point, Gabriella recognized that she had two options. She could either leave, or she could try to speak to him calmly; however, if she left, he would only stew in his own anger, making matters worse. Taking a large gulp, she decided to speak. “Carl.” Her voice was shaky. She feared saying the wrong words. “You need to relax. It’s just one game.”

Carl sat down on the couch as the words hit his ears. Gabriella took this as a good sign, and decided to go over and sit next to him. She placed her hand softly on his thigh before continuing. “It’s not a big deal. You’ll beat them next time.”

“Did I fucking ask you?” he spat, shooting up out of his seat like a firework. “Goddammit Gabriella! You never know when to keep your stupid little mouth shut. That’s the fucking problem with you. Stupid cunt.”

Gabriella could handle a lot of things: the pressure put on her at competitions, the delicate balance of school and play. All of that was nothing for her. But one thing that she could not stand for was blaming the innocent. There was no way in hell that she would allow Carl to just stand before her and spew this false venom at her.

“Look!” she yelled, standing up and pointing a harsh finger in the Swede’s face. “You put this on yourself buddy. You played like shit tonight. You! Not me! I did nothing except try to calm you down, because that’s my job as your girlfriend. And if you won’t let me try to do that, then maybe I shouldn’t even be here.”

The two exchanged scowls for a moment before Carl spoke. “Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”