Steph sat slumped in the plush, cushiony comfort of her first class seat, gazing out the window at the bright expanse of sky and the clouds below. All around her was the usual companionable buzz of a flight—people talking quietly, the low sounds of the movie through various sets of headphones, the underlying hum of the engines. She felt so detached from it though—like it was all some sort of backdrop in a play she was robotically acting her way through.
“Would you like a fresh drink, ma’am? Some lunch perhaps?”
She looked up, blinking at the pert blond woman in her prim stewardess outfit, smiling brightly at her. Steph glanced at her still half-full glass sitting in the cup holder on the back of the seat in front of her, and shook her head. She wasn’t feeling very thirsty—or hungry. She hadn’t had much of an appetite for anything lately.
“No, thank you…”
The woman nodded and moved on, asking the people behind her.
Steph sighed, sitting up in her seat a bit and settling back. She thought about getting her laptop out and doing some work, but she didn’t feel like it—even though there was tons to do.
Daddy was not making things easy on her. At first he had planned to split off into two shows, with her in charge of the new one, but then he had second thoughts. Then he had third thoughts, thinking he wanted to do it after all. Now he wasn’t sure again. He was being very cautious right now, not wanting to make another huge financial mistake like he had with the XFL. So he had gradually worked some of the Alliance guys back into the shows, and was biding his time, talking to his lawyers, his accountants, his PR reps, his whole legion of advisers on what he should do. And while Steph could appreciate his hesitancy, it was driving her crazy. Especially since he was sending her off to do every little task that he couldn’t accomplish himself from his base in Connecticut.
In a way though, it was good…especially given the state of her marriage…
********
“Hunter…” Steph was trying to control
her sobbing, wiping tears from her face, a wadded-up tissue in her hand.
She had been crying ever since the arena, all the way back to the hotel.
“Please…just listen to me…”
“Listen?
What the hell do you want me to listen to!”
Hunter was worked up, in a rage, and she didn’t blame him.
He was pacing back and forth in front of her as she sat on the bed.
“I saw you kissing him! What
the hell is going on here Steph?”
“I’m sorry…” she sobbed into her
hands, shaking. She felt like
the whole world was crashing down around her.
“We were just…oh God…I don’t even know how to explain it to you…”
He was silent for a minute, pacing wildly,
dragging his hand through his hair. Steph
knew he would never hit her, but she shrunk back from him every time he walked
past her—his anger frightened her. Then
suddenly, he stopped.
“Are you fucking him Steph?
Tell me the truth.”
She stared down at her lap, tears coursing
down her cheeks, not knowing how to answer.
The truth was too painful, too hard to admit.
“Steph!”
“Y-yes…” her voice was a choked whisper.
Hunter snarled, slamming his hand down on the
vanity table across from the bed. She
let out a little yelp and jumped, bringing her shaking hands to her face again.
“So this is what I get for being out hurt,
huh? You run off and fuck a man I
thought was my friend? What the
hell did I do wrong Steph? Why did
you have to go and do this!”
She didn’t know how to answer.
And it wasn’t just a matter of not wanting to tell him—she really
didn’t know.
“Hunter…”
“I’m going to talk to him right now…”
he snatched up his jacket from across the chair in front of the vanity.
“If you won’t give me any answers, maybe he will.”
“Hunter, no!”
She leapt to her feet. He
wouldn’t hit her, but he might hit Chris—or Chris might hit him.
He gave her a look that turned her blood to
ice, his brown eyes seeming so very dark and deadly for a moment, making her sit
back down heavily on the bed. There
was also a tremendous amount of pain and hurt in those eyes—for which she felt
wretchedly guilty.
He left the room, leaving her to sob some more and wish she were dead.
*******
Every airport started to look the same after you had been in enough of them. The Columbus International Airport was laid out much the same as the airport she had left from, and the one she had been in two days ago, and last week, and three months ago… At least it made it easy to figure out where the boarding gates were.
She moved through the terminal, walking briskly, keeping her head down to keep from being recognized—she had sunglasses on too, which helped mask her appearance a bit. And when she was out in public, she dressed casually so as not to attract attention, and kept her hair down so she could let it fall around her face. Thankfully, it seemed to be working today.
She tried to get her mind on business—she had a limo waiting, which would take her to her hotel, then this evening she had to go out to the arena where OVW was having a show tonight. She was supposed to be doing some ‘talent-assessing’ on this trip, seeing if a handful of guys were ready to come back to TV.
“Stephanie!”
Her heart leapt, and she had to quickly quell the silly notion that instantly jumped into her head—she didn’t recognize the voice, after all. She came to a stop, grimacing, thinking she had been spotted. She wondered if she could just keep walking and get away from them…
“Stephanie! Hey!”
Steph frowned, turning to see who was calling to her. A middle-aged man with graying hair and a jean jacket was coming up behind her, waving. She didn’t recognize him—yet he seemed to know her.
She was just about to speak when he walked right past her, to a red-haired girl a short distance in front of her, who had stopped as well. The girl squealed and threw her arms around the man.
Steph sighed, rolling her eyes at herself. She was too damn tense…
She started walking again, breezing past the hugging couple. The man was saying something to the girl, and she caught the end of it.
“…so good to see you again Princess…”
She nearly stopped again, the breath going right out of her. It felt like someone had reached into her chest and was squeezing her heart. She tried to shake it off and walk on, but as she reached the escalators, a flood of memories and emotions washed over her, bringing tears to her eyes. She was glad for the sunglasses.
*******
“So what did you let him do to you, huh
Steph? I bet you didn’t play Miss
Innocent with him…”
“Hunter, you’re drunk…” Steph pulled
her robe tighter around herself, wishing she had never let him in the room.
“You need to go sleep it off.”
He wobbled, the amber fluid in his bottle
sloshing, the smell that was drifting over to her nearly making her gag.
It was something cheap, and effective.
“Did he get his rocks off inside you Steph?
Every time I stick my dick in you from now on, am I gonna have to think
about his stuff in your pussy?”
She turned her head away from him, biting back
tears. She would not cry in front
of him while he was like this. It
would only make him harass her more…not that she didn’t deserve it.
“Did you let him fuck you in the ass Steph?”
He stumbled closer to her, breathing on her, making her wince.
“Did you suck his cock? Did
you have his dick in that pretty whore mouth of yours?”
He grabbed her chin, squeezing her cheeks and
turning her face toward him. She
yelped and wrenched away from him, stumbling back.
“You wouldn’t say these things to me if
you weren’t so drunk…” she kept her eyes from meeting his, looking down.
“I know you’re hurt Hunter, but this is no way to handle it…”
He snorted, and took another drink from the
bottle. She wanted to push him out
of the room, but she was afraid to make him any more angry than he was.
“You know what sucks the most, Steph?”
He reached for her again, and she jerked away.
However, he caught her, holding her by the arm and making her whimper,
his mouth close to her ear. “I
still love you…I know he’s had his cock in every orifice in your body, but I
still want you…”
She closed her eyes, tears slipping out and
trailing down her cheeks. Her heart
was broken, aching.
He let go of her, and she stumbled a bit,
wrapping her arms around herself.
He started for the door, then stopped,
considering her for a moment. His
face contorted in anger suddenly, and he flung the bottle against the wall.
She shrieked as shards of glass and liquid rained down on the carpet,
leaving a wet yellow stain on the wall. He
wrenched the door open and glared back at her, still that awful pain in his
eyes.
“I’m gonna go sleep it off now…in my own
room…”
He left with a slamming of the door, and she dissolved into sobs. After a moment, she lifted her head, looking at the jagged shards of glass on the floor. The thoughts that went through her head frightened her.
**********
“Driver, how much longer?”
“Another ten minutes or so, ma’am…”
She sighed, flipping the intercom off. She was tired of watching the city crawl by outside the window, tired of working out schedules and transfers and promotional material on her laptop—tired of everything. She couldn’t concentrate. She’d forced herself to eat a little at the hotel, and now her stomach was queasy. She had actually lost ten pounds in the past two weeks—if she wasn’t careful, her trainer was going to notice and make her stop weight training.
She sighed and looked back down at her laptop. It was no use doing any work right now—if she tried, she was going to mess something major up.
She was just about to shut it off when she thought of something. Sitting it carefully aside on the seat next to her, she dug into her purse. Deep inside, in a concealed zipper compartment, there was a disk. She opened up the compartment and fished it out, holding it and just staring at it for a moment.
She had been keeping a journal on it…not just a journal, but also a letter of sorts. A letter she might never send, but had to write. A letter full of apologies, confessions, heartache, and all the methods she was using to try to work this out and make some sense of it. It helped, sometimes. Other times, it was just a place to deposit her agony.
She shut down the files she had been working on, and slipped the disk in. Maybe if she wrote some more, she could make some sense of her feelings right now…
December 15
I’ve been thinking about Hunter a lot
lately. I haven’t actually seen
him in a week—I’ve talked to him on the phone a couple times, but that’s
it. They were short, tense
conversations…he never said anything about Chris, or what he’s decided to do
about us, but I could hear the anger and pain still in his voice.
He says he doesn’t want to decide just yet what to do.
He says he has to get his head together first.
He’s working on getting ready to come back
at the beginning of January…I wonder, how will he and Chris co-exist when he’s
back? How will they both be in the
backstage area together? Will they
argue, or fight? Will they even
speak to each other? And what if I’m
there? Will tensions be even
higher? What if I slip up and look
at Chris the wrong way in front of him?
I’m glad that Hunter isn’t telling anyone
what happened. He says that no one
needs to know, and I agree. If
Daddy knew, he’d probably hit the ceiling.
Mom would be so disappointed in me…my friends would probably think I
was a dirty slut. Hunter also says
that if Chris wants his wife to know, he’ll tell her.
But still, I worry. If
Hunter gets mad enough, he could easily give her a call…
Will Chris tell her? I don’t know…I haven’t really spoken to him since Survivor Series. I saw him last week at a meeting, but that was it. It’s been almost a month since the last time we talked—and I think if he had told her he would have told me. I feel so empty without him, so lost. And then I feel guilty for feeling that way. I’m so miserable.
She stopped, staring down at the words she had typed, tears blurring them for a moment. She wiped at her eyes, then went on, hands trembling…
Oh Chris…if only I could see you again. Talk to you. What are you feeling? What are you thinking? Are you missing me the way I’m missing you? You were the first one to make this more than just a fling—so my heart tells me that you still care, that you still long to be with me. I have to tell myself that, or I’ll go crazy. I see you on TV, doing so well, getting your big push like Daddy promised—how I want to be there to support you, to be by your side. I tear myself apart thinking about how it could be…
She had to stop, or she would break down into sobs. It seemed that was the only thing she did well anymore—cry. She saved the file and shut it off, disappointed to find that her feelings were only more confused now.
******
Steph was sitting at a table in the back, watching the monitor in front of her—watching, but not really paying attention. She was supposed to be taking notes, but she had only scribbled down a few so far. If she didn’t want Daddy all over her case, she was going to have to pull it together and concentrate.
At least none of the ‘prospects’ were out there wrestling at the moment. She could let her mind drift…
She chewed on the end of her pen, pondering her notebook. She looked up and forced as much of a smile as she could when Sean O’Haire walked past and greeted her. He stopped for a moment to chat, and she tried to be polite, and seem interested in what he was saying. He was doing well and would probably be coming back soon, so he didn’t really need to butter her up—and she wasn’t in the mood for it. Thankfully, he left her alone after a few minutes and she went back to her stormy thoughts.
“Mrs. Helmsley?”
She winced a little at the sound of that name, but looked up, forcing another polite smile.
“Yes?”
One of the backstage crew handed her a folded-up piece of paper, and she took it, looking at him quizzically.
“I was requested to give that to you, ma’am…”
“Thank you…” she looked at it questioningly. She was about to ask him who it was from, but he skittered off before she could get the words out.
Frowning, she unfolded the paper, which was folded in half then folded again. It was a thick sheet of plain white paper, and inside were words scrawled in black ink—she thought she recognized the handwriting, but wasn’t entirely sure.
See the pyramids along the Nile…watch the
sunrise from a tropic isle
Just remember darling all the while
You belong to me
See the marketplace in old Algiers…send me
photographs and souvenirs
Just remember when a dream appears
You belong to me
Fly the ocean in a silver plane…see the
jungle when it’s wet with rain
Just remember till you’re home again
You belong to me
Love is so lonely without you
Maybe you’ll be lonesome too…
She frowned even more, utterly confused. The words seemed strangely familiar, and it took a moment to place them. It was the lyrics to an old song—the kind of stuff her mother listened to on long car rides. She turned the paper over, but it was blank on the other side. There was no other writing on it, nothing to indicate who it came from. Though the words that were there made her tremble…
She got to her feet, looking around. No one was paying much attention to her, no one acting as though they had sent her the strange note. She went to try to find the man who had given it to her, but he was nowhere to be found. She asked a few people if they had seen him, but they hadn’t.
She spent the rest of the show even more distracted than she was before. She kept the note open, glancing over at it and re-reading it as she worked on her notes. The more she read it, the more her hopes rose, her heart pounding hard. All sorts of thoughts raced through her mind—most of them probably very wrong. Most likely some lovestruck admirer had finally gotten the guts to send her a note, like a kid in high school. Still, those words…
She was hoping to see the stagehand again before the end of the show, but he never came back through. She gathered up her things, talked to a few of the guys, then headed out the rear entrance of the arena, confused, frustrated, and still miserable. It was snowing, and she sighed as she stepped out into the wintry air, dreading the long, lonely night ahead of her. She would call Daddy, watch some TV, then probably cry herself to sleep like she did most nights.
As she was trudging through the slushy parking lot, shivering and getting covered in big, fluffy snowflakes, she glanced up and saw someone standing beside her limo. She thought it was the driver at first, then realized it was too big to be him.
She stopped, a little wary. It was dark and the lot was deserted—the person stepped out of the shadows and into the light, and she saw they had a hood down over their bowed head, hands stuffed in the pockets of a leather jacket they wore over what appeared to be a hooded sweatshirt. Her stomach clenched, icy fear shooting through her veins.
She was about to turn and walk right back into the arena, when the person pulled their hood back, looking up at her.
She gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. Shimmering blond hair collected the falling snowflakes and caught the light, blue eyes gazing at her with an intensity that had in the past melted her into a quivering puddle—and now was no exception.
She covered the rest of the distance across the parking lot in a matter of seconds, oblivious of the slush that soaked her shoes, the words in the note suddenly making sense to her—fulfilling her fondest and most outlandish hopes and fantasies. She slammed into him quite hard, but he was strong and barely even wobbled, pulling her into his arms, squeezing her against his warm body.
“Chris…” she was choking on her own breath, sobbing. “How are you…what are you doing…”
He stilled her words with his lips, and she breathed him in, clutched at his hair, which was soft and silken and wet with snow. He was holding her so tight she could barely breathe, but she didn’t need to—he was all she needed. She kissed him with all that she was and clung to him tighter than tight, tears wet and hot on her cheeks before the wind caught them and turned them cold.
When they finally broke apart, they were both panting, and his blue eyes were as wet as hers.
“I don’t understand…” she shook her head, her breath a cloud between them, dissolving in puffs around his face. “What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”
“Do you think I wouldn’t follow you?” He was tugging her toward the car, his arms still around her. “Come on…let’s get out of here before someone sees me…”
She followed willingly, letting him open the door for her and crawling in quickly. The car was warm inside, the driver having come out a little bit ago to start it up. Chris slipped in beside her and closed the door, the dome light going off and plunging them into close, secretive darkness.
“Are you ready to go, ma’am?” The driver’s voice came through the intercom.
“Yes…” she tried to steady her voice. “Let’s go.” She reached over and switched it off.
They pulled out and left the parking lot, all thoughts but him flying out of her head as they drove—and as he held her, and they kissed hungrily, she forgot her pain as well, for the first time in weeks.
********
Steph finished scribbling out the last of her notes in the soft yellow glow of the bedside lamp, legs tucked under her, robe tied loosely and wrapped around her knees. Her hair was still a little damp from the shower, hanging over her shoulders.
She looked up from the ledger, pen stilling over the paper, her eyes falling on the bed and the sleeping form there. He was wrapped up in the sheets to his waist, the light falling on the bare curve of his back in a way that seemed to make him glow. The top of the sheets came up to his tailbone, so the swell of his ass rose just beneath the edge of them, jutting up before falling away to the long tapering shape of his legs. His hair was flung messily across the pillow, face turned toward her, gentle and reposed in sleep. The musky odor of sex still hung in the air, making her hungry for him all over again. He needed his sleep though, and so did she.
She finished off the notes and closed the ledger, laying it aside. She should have felt terribly guilty right now, but somehow she didn’t. She should have told him to go when she saw him standing beside her car, but she couldn’t.
She slipped out of the chair and switched off the light, before untying her robe and letting it fall from her shoulders. She slipped into the bed, pressing against him to seek out his warmth, to feel the softness of his bare skin against hers. He shifted a little, mumbling, slipping an arm around her with a soft sigh.
She touched his hair and kissed his temple, heart still aching but so happy to have him there, so happy to know he still felt the same way about her, even if it did complicate things further.
“Mmm…love you Princess…” he murmured. Those words, even spoken as they were in a half-sleep, made her tingle all over. She rested her cheek against his, squeezing back tears.
“I love you too…” she whispered. “I love you so much it hurts…”
He squeezed her tighter against him, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, raining more kisses on his face before settling down against him. For all the chaos that was still going on inside her, she was content for the moment.
Even if this didn’t make things easier, at least she wouldn’t cry herself to sleep tonight.
TO BE CONTINUED (at some point!)
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