Tyler slammed the door behind him as you both entered your shared apartment. The door slammed hard enough to make closet door open.

"Fuck you! I can't believe you!" You yelled as you walked toward the bathroom. You didn't even bother taking off your heels yet.

"Fuck me? That's not something you've done in months!" He yelled from the front door where he was unlacing his dress shoes.

"Screw you you self entitled piece of shit! Maybe your dick ain't shit and that's why I haven't sucked you off!" You insulted him from the bathroom where you were taking your hair out of its up-do.

The entire apartment went silent. You could hear your own breath, and feel tour own heart beating faster from how angry you were.

The two of you had attended a team event. It was a dinner and a silent auction, all to raise money for a children's hospital in Dallas. Tyler had been introducing you to some of the other wives and girlfriends. Even though you had been dating for almost six months, and knowing one another for almost a year, you hadn't attended a game because you were worried the wives would think badly of you. You didn't want to leave a bad impression of the women of the hockey world, not when you were so new to the lifestyle.

Except rather than leave a good impression, Tyler kept bringing up how he had been supporting you since the office you worked at shut down. Every wife and player who heard this gave you the same, subtle look. The one that read "gold digger".

You pulled Tyler aside during the dinner to ask him to stop and he agreed. Except he didn't stop. It had started to infuriate you, to the point where you felt sick and told him your needed to leave.

The entire car ride home you didn't speak at all, until he pulled into the parking garage with a smart remark. "I don't see why you're mad."

Then you're already heighten emotions went through the roof. You seethed with anger until you stepped foot in your apartment.

Looking in the mirror you began to tear up. The medicine cabinet opened to reveal what you had hidden in a box Tyler wouldn't open, mostly because he didn't care for presents and boxes.

The test still read as positive. You placed the lid back on the box and gripped it in your hand. The anger you felt had begun to change into tears.

Tyler was sitting in silence on the couch in your living room when you stormed down the hallway, your heels clicking as you went.

He didn't even glance at you when you stopped to stand near him.

"Do you have any idea what all your teammates and their wives are probably saying about me right now?" You tried to not raise your voice. "They are probably saying I'm only here for your money, that I'm a gold digger. Or that I'm a poor homeless case you took off the street as charity!"

He didn't even flinch which made you more upset. "Do you even care?" Your voice dropped to a whisper.

"No," Tyler's statement nearly shattered your heart. "I don't care about their approval and neither should you."

"Except I have to care! When you're on an extended road trip or gone for whatever reason, they are who I'm able to lean on for emotional support," you explained. "Except now they think I'm just using you!"

It didn't seem to click with him. So rather than try and explain anything you went to your room and grabbed your coat and your keys. When you walked back into the living room you threw the box at him, hitting him square in the chest.

"Fuck you, I'm done." You turned and fumbled for your key ready to leave that on the side table next to the door.

As you dropped the key there and reached for the handle of the door you felt Tyler's gentle grasp on your arm. His hand was warm like it always is. Maybe now he was ready to talk, except your mind was already made up.

"Don't go. Please stay," he was tearing up and holding the pregnancy test in his other hand.

All you could do was stare at him, unsure of what you wanted to do next.