Notes/Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. This story is based on characters and storylines only, not the actual people or real life events. Some quotes are taken directly from the November 29, 1999 Raw. There are spoilers regarding the time frame from early 1999 to October/November 2001- before Survivor Series actually took place. Rated PG-13 for angst, references to non-consensual sex/rape (no explicit detail, though), adult language, and violence.
Growing up in the McMahon family, I was taught that money and power went hand in hand, that the size of your heart had nothing to do with being successful in life. It's pretty obvious I didn't learn those lessons from my mother; I'm convinced this is something in the McMahon blood, and by marrying into the family, she escaped the curse.
Despite having that philosophy instilled in me from an early age, I ended up falling in love- with one of my father's employees, no less. Needless to say, Daddy and Shane threw a fit when I agreed to go out on a date with Andrew. After all, he wasn't exactly the upper-class snob they'd envisioned me parading around with. But I felt I deserved to be with a man for the *right* reasons- not because of some twisted plan my father or brother thought up.
Andrew and I had a great relationship, but the fates seemed determined to keep us from being together. First it was the attacks by Shane and the Mean Street Posse on Andrew. Sometimes they involved me, too: I'll never forget Shane making me watch the Posse beat up Andrew, or the time my brother- accidentally- elbowed me in the face. Nor will I forget Joey Abs asking me to take him back- *twice*. Ugh. That's almost as bad as when I was nearly sacrificed to the Undertaker in that black wedding.
Anyway, things improved once Andrew and I got engaged..Or so I thought. Shane called a truce, the Posse backed off, and even Daddy gave us his blessing.
I think things started going wrong at Rebellion that year, when the WWF went to the UK. The British Bulldog was arguing with Daddy, demanding he get a title shot that night; Shane and I were just onlookers. When my father wouldn't give in, the Bulldog snapped and hurled a trash can across the room. Guess who got hit. When I came to, I was suffering from Post Concussion Syndrome. Translation: I couldn't remember my fiancé. The wedding had to be postponed until I got my memory back.
By that time, Daddy was locked in a bitter feud with DX- in particular, Triple H, the man who would soon play a *very* important role in my life. The guys in DX did some horrible things during this time, including breaking Andrew's nose and beating up Shane right in front of Daddy, who couldn't do anything because of a restraining order. That was on the Thanksgiving Smack Down taping, just under a week before the wedding.
Even though all this bad stuff was happening, I was excited about marrying Andrew. After regaining my memory, I decided to propose to him so he'd know I still wanted to be his wife. Mom even hired a plane so I could have my bachelorette party in Las Vegas. Life was great.
November 29, 1999 was supposed to be the best day of my life. Instead, it turned out to be one of the worst.
Okay, so the ceremony was held in a wrestling ring, but that didn't make it any less special. In fact, everything was *perfect*..until Triple H showed up.
As I watched the video, it dawned on me: by downing that last glass, I'd taken the bait. It was such an innocent thing, really. I mean, who expects to be drugged at their bachelorette party and married by the enemy only days before they are to wed someone else?
Yes, I was angry at Hunter, but I was angry at myself, too: angry that my trusting nature had allowed yet another man to take advantage of me.
"I *hate* you!" I had cried out, tears streaming down my face. If looks could kill, the Game would've been dead and buried by Daddy's expression.
The last straw was when Hunter answered the question Daddy was supposedly wondering: "And that is, not did we, but *how many times* did we consummate the marriage!" I felt sick to my stomach, but I was also very grateful that I'd been unconscious when it happened.
I asked my husband to end the marriage, and he agreed to sign the annulment papers- but only *if* my father beat him in a match at the Armageddon pay- per-view. If Hunter won, not only would we still be married, but he'd get a shot at the WWF title. At least the match was no holds barred, so Daddy had a chance.
Everyone knows what happened next- or, at least, they *think* they do. I asked Daddy for the sledgehammer before he could use it on Triple H, begging my father to let me do it instead. He complied, but I hesitated and Hunter grabbed the sledgehammer from me and took it to his opponent, picking up the win. We grinned at each other, and that's when the McMahon- Helmsley Era began.
What most people *don't* know is that Daddy and Shane convinced Hunter to marry me. They didn't want a guy like Andrew in the family because they felt he would reflect badly on them. Triple H was a Greenwich blueblood, in spite of his degenerate behavior- the perfect addition to one of Connecticut's most prominent families.
My husband and I fight all the time. There's no love between us. Never has been, never will be. I've lost count of the times I've asked for a divorce, but I remember being turned down each and every time. Hunter's not about to do anything to screw up his relationship with his father-in-law and boss, oh, no. And if I were to take matters into my own hands? Forget about it. With Hunter's temper- not to mention the threats he holds over my head- I'd be putting my life in danger.
Still, I sometimes dream of a different life, one where nobody can manipulate me again. In my fantasy, I'm with a man who loves me for who I am, who won't ever hurt me in any way. Andrew was once that man, and even though we resolved our differences when he joined the Alliance, I know things will never be the same between us. That's why I keep watching and waiting for my prince to come rescue me. Maybe that's just a fairy tale, but it's all I've got.
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