Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my imagination, and I'm not sure that it's worth much, so please don't sue.
My heart aches as I watch her as she stares starry-eyed at her object of affection. The look in her eyes could only be described as longing. I have never seen a look like this from her, not even directed at me. It was like this one scrupulous look was reserved for the blonde man standing a mere twenty feet away from us. I wonder if she even remembers that I am standing here? Probably not. Her mind is probably clouded with jubilant and lust filled fantasies of all the things she wants to do to him.
As some may seem to believe, I am not as stupid as I look. I know that when I lay above her---caressing her body---she is imagining that it is his coarse and gentle hands instead of mine. I am well aware that when I kiss her all over her body, that she wishes it is his soft and gentle lips lavishing her delicate and flushed skin with endless kisses. I am more than sure that when I am pushing in and out of her aroused body, she is visualizing him moving above her and making her body quiver with need and desire. I also know for a fact that it is his face that she is envisioning when she is moaning and writhing beneath me---when her face is bejeweled with perspire and ecstasy.
What the hell is it that he has that I don't?
This is a question that has been plaguing my mind every day of my life ever since I have met her. She herself is special, but the man that she is longing for does not seem all that special to me. He's mediocre at best standing next to me. This is what I know, but if you asked her, I bet she would disagree. I can feel myself tiring quickly of watching her stare---transfixed and longingly---at another man… a contemptible man at that.
"Steph are you okay?" I ask, letting on the fact that I had no idea where her attention had quickly averted.
"Huh… oh yes. I'm fine, just a bit out of it today is all."
More like every day, considering that's how often that, that unadorned man acquires all of your concentration. I blame him for being so selfish as to take all of your attention from me, because I love you far too much to ever blame you for any of my heart ache. He's the selfish reprobate whose only task seems to be to rip my heart out slowly and agonizingly, which can only be described like a cancer slowly taking over one's body before completely and abruptly ending their existence in this world. My existence has long ago gone and I am left to wane in my own self-pity… holding on to a shear thread of hope and love.
"You seem a bit out of it every day, Steph. Are you sure that there isn't something more… maybe something that you want to enlighten me with?" I asked, lacing the question with hope and accusation. All I wanted now was for her to admit her covet for the other man. Admit that he was who she really wanted and that I was not good enough and never would be.
"No. I just need to start taking it easy these days. You know how I can get when it comes to work," was her quick, but not so-clever excuse.
"Yeah, I know. You're the ultimate workaholic." This was indeed a true statement, but I knew that it was not the reason for her unstable and off putting behavior as of late. I knew better.
"So what are we doing tonight?" I hear her ask, obviously trying to obviate the subject at hand. You're not that quick McMahon.
"Nothing, I think you should rest tonight, given your current state of mind. I'll probably try to catch up on some much needed rest as well."
"Are you trying to dump me… letting me down easy, in a more subtle and wavering manner?" I could easily hear the humor in her question and I chuckled, more so from the fact that the accusing question was farther from the truth than the mere fact that the question was actually funny. If only she knew.
"Yeah right, McMahon. As if dumping you could ever be something easy for me to even think about doing."
The momentary sparkle in here blue-grey eyes at my statement somewhat eased the piercing ache running through my body. Somewhat…
"You're quite the charmer aren't you?"
A mischievous grin overtook my face at her rhetorical question. I loved this playful and flirtatious role that we always so easily slipped into with each other, This role that always made me question her true feelings for the other man. This role that at times made me feel as if maybe… just maybe, I was just feeling a bit insecure and envious of the other man. Yet, that stare of hers, that---while it tore through my heart---it tried to gaze into his, always reminding me that she truly was in love with another man… a man that was not me.
"How else do you think I captured you?" I ask in an arrogant and joking manner, "Charm, baby, charm."
"Okay, Mr. Arrogance. I'll take you up on your whole catching up on sleep idea, but you're definitely taking a rain check on this one."
I threw my hands up in defense and agreement. Of course I would.
"Okay, I'll see you later." My heart stopped as I watched her lean in for a kiss goodbye, which I readily returned with vigor. I treasured moments like this, because every time I get them, I fear that they may just be my last moments with her. She was the first to break the kiss, as usual.
As she turns to leave, I catch her take one more longing glance at the oblivious blonde man just a few feet away from us. The look of anguish and yearning in her beautiful blue-grey eyes jars me into making a heartbreaking decision. Instead of heading to my locker room to prepare to leave, I walk over to the other blonde man. He appeared to be in a friendly conversation with a backstage hand.
"Hey you, Blondie?"
He turns to me and a scowl immediately adorns his face. There sure is no love lost between the two of us, that's for sure. I ignore his poor mannerisms and continue along with my task at hand… for her sake at least.
"What do you want?" He sneers at me as he asks me this question. What a prick. But this is who she desires. I don't get it. He's rude and arrogant. Why would she ever want someone like that?
"I was meaning to speak with you about your proposal from earlier." I say politely, still refraining from allowing my temper to overtake me.
"What about it?"
"Let's do it. It's good for ratings and I am as great as ever, so I don't see what could really go wrong with it, as long as I look good in the end."
"It figures you would be gaining something out of it."
I laugh sarcastically, because what I am gaining from this is far more precious to me than some meaningless win… far more important than some insignificant title… far more important to me than even my own happiness…
The motel is crowded with generally wrestlers and divas as I make my way through the crowd at a seemingly failing attempt to get to the elevator and to my room. By God's grace I make it to the elevator securely and unscathed. On the ride up to my floor, my mind wanders back to my conversation with a certain blonde earlier that evening.
The fear of it all has been plaguing me ever since I agreed. What was really the problem though? Why was this bothering me so much? Was it the light in her eyes whenever he is around? Was it the way her mind wanders whenever she looks at him? Was it that she always breaks our kisses first? Was it the fact that when I am the one making love to her, her eyes are closed and she is most certainly imagining that it's really him? Or is it that I know that she shares a depth of chemistry and passion with him that she has never and maybe will never share with me? No, it's neither of them… it's every single last one of them that is rousing this unrelenting fear within my stomach and heart.
As I step off of the elevator, I hear an all too familiar giggle and an all too familiar chuckle. I look around for the two distinctive sounds, and I find them… together. They are standing outside of her motel room, quite close to one another. She is standing closer to him than she ever stands to me, and I am her damn boyfriend. I stand there and listen as they talk in hushed voices that cause me to have to strain my ear to hear their conversation.
"So you and I a couple, huh?"
"I guess so."
"Boy is everyone going to be shocked by that one."
"I doubt that shocked is the word to describe everyone's reactions."
"Well, aside from all of that… I know that I will definitely be having fun working with you again, as usual.
"Ditto," was her mere response.
She reaches up and pulls her hair behind her ear in that delicate and seductive way that only she can. It's one of her charming customs.
"I guess I'll let you go then. I didn't want to bother you, but I was just excited that Paul finally agreed to do the storyline after all."
"It's no bother at all Chris. I am just as excited, if not more so than you are... especially given the fact that Paul has agreed and approves of it now. So I understand your excitement."
They are silent for a moment. The silence alone seems to be affecting their dispositions, as they both seem somewhat fidgety and flushed all of a sudden. My heart momentarily slows to a steady and low beat as I watch that infamous chemistry between them flare up and ignite before my very eyes.
My eyes must be playing tricks on me, because they appear to be slowly leaning into one another. That's it… my heart breaks in two, as I watch their lips meet in a chaste and passionate kiss. I stand there watching in astonishment as their kiss seems to last an eternity to me. I watch him wrap his arms around the waist of the woman that I love, as he pulls her flush against him. My heart breaks even more as I watch her wrap her arms around his neck and respond quickly and ardently to his lips.
They are just the right height for each other. They fit so perfectly together. I continue to watch the love of my life and possibly my worst enemy devour each other's mouths in a deep and pining kiss. After a decade---or what seems so to me---he slowly guides her backwards into her motel room, closing the door behind them. The sound of the door slipping to a halt echoes the sound of my now null and void heart. I allow my head to fall back against the wall as I feel the tears roll down my cheeks, something hits me…
She did not break their kiss at all.