Randy didn't know what to expect. He hadn't talked to Grace Reynolds since they broke up four years ago. Sometimes that night still haunts him.
Grace had called him four days while he was in Houston filming WWE Monday Night RAW. They had met when she worked with the company in Florida Championship Wrestling. She had spotlighted on RAW numbers times. They had dinner a few times when she was filming with them.
Than they dated two years.
Sometimes it was hard for Randy to believe they had met six years ago.
She was the last person he had expected to hear from. She asked if he would meet her at her home in Nashville Tennessee. She told him there was something they needed to discuss. He probably should have told her no; but he had to know what she wanted to tell him.
She must know that he was married now. It had taken him a while to get over her but now he was happy. He had a wife and a one year old daughter.
Grace wouldn't come on to him would she?
No, she should know. Even if she did leave the WWE shortly after breaking up with him she must still have connections there right?
What she had said to him that night broke his heart. He could still picture it in his head—he could replay it over and over—remember every detail, every word.
He came home late and had missed the big dinner she had planned. She was livid. She had looked beautiful. She had been wearing a black dress and heels. Her strawberry Blonde hair was up in a clip and a few curls fell down around her face. Her green eyes were glassy with tears.
"You decided to come home?"
He hadn't even remembered the dinner. He felt terrible. She had gone through so much trouble to make a special evening; they had so little time to spend together. She had made his favorite, and there were candles.
And he had ruined it, what a jackass.
"Grace, baby, I'm sorry."
"No, you're not Randy. Save the bullshit. I'm sick of hearing it."
"Grace, I forgot about the dinner and I'm sorry, I'm not—"
"I told you to save it Randy. You're never going to change. I've tried and tried to keep this relationship going and every time I plan something you miss it, you cancel, or you 'forget'—I'm sick of it Randy."
"Grace, please, calm down—I love you, you know that, it's just—work's demanding—"
"Yes Randy, It is, and that's your problem. You love your work more than you love me and I'm not going to be second to your career Randy. I'm glad you love your job—and maybe—if you loved me that much we could be together.
That had been when he noticed the suitcases by the front door.
"You can't be serious Grace! You're leaving me? Because I forgot dinner?"
"No Randy, not because you forgot dinner, because you've forgotten me."
And than she pushed him aside, grabbed her bags and left. He stood in the door way and watched her leave.
Sometimes he woke up dreaming about that night. Why hadn't he stopped her? Why hadn't he just come home early instead of hanging around the arena?
He had tortured himself for over a year with those questions, with his memories.
Than he met Crystal and things were almost back to normal. He was happy. He was a dad. He loved his job. Than Grace called.
He told her He'd be their Friday afternoon. He lied and told Crystal he was going somewhere for work—he'd be home late.
Than at eight-thirty AM he got in his SUV and left St. Louis, Missouri in route to Nashville, Tennessee.
Now it was 12:50 and he was driving through the city. He was minutes away form Grace's house.
Randy pulled up in front of and old Victorian style home. He got out of his black SUV and headed up the stone path to the wrap around porch.
Typical Southern Home, he thought.
This is where Grace was living? It was huge. Was she married as well?
Maybe it had been a little egotistical of him to think she would now about his life since their break up when he knew so little about hers.
He knocked on the front door and waited—arms crossed—to see Grace Reynolds for the first time in four years. Would she be the same old grace? He definitely wasn't the same old Randy?
The door opened and there she was. She smiled weakly. Her eyes were the same—just as beautiful as he remembered.
But her beautiful Strawberry Blonde was now brown; almost a mahogany color. She stepped aside so he could come in. "I was wonder if you'd actually come Randy."
He stepped inside. The first words out of her mouth had sent a searing pain to and old wound he had hoped was healed.
Hadn't he always kept his promises? The best he could, at least. "I told you I'd be here." He said—ignoring the pain surging through him. What was wrong with him—she meant nothing to him now.
"Thank you Randy." She closed the door behind him. "Want something to drink."
"No thanks." He said looking around the house. Her taste hadn't changed much—bright colors, patterns, he could bet at least one room upstairs was done in animal print.
"Why don't we sit down?" She led him to the living room and he took a seat on the couch. She sat in a chair across from him and crossed her legs. "How have you been Randy?''
That was what she was leading off with—a how have you been? How have you been since I broke your heart, left you bitter and the only things that made that better were his new wife, daughter and career?
He smirked at the thought. "Fine Grace, how are you?"
"I'm well Randy."
"Something tells me you didn't make me drive four hours to ask me how I've been Grace."
"No, I didn't. I have something to tell you Randy."
"Than you should tell me—aren't we both a little against the awkward small talk?' She frowned slightly—but he continued, "I'm sure you don't care how I've been."
She folded her hands on her lap, "Where would you get that impression Randy? I only hope the best for you, just because things didn't work out between us doesn't mean—"
"Now it's my turn to tell you to save the bullshit, because I'm not buying—why did you call me here Grace-Lynn.
She sighed. "Okay Randy—"She looked him straight in the eye and hers looked glassy again, just like they had that night.
He didn't want to see her cry, didn't want to think about that night. Why had he come here? Was he trying to prove something to himself? What was there to prove? He was over her—he was with someone new, ne was married.
"Randy, two weeks after we broke up—I found out I was pregnant." She took a deep breath and looked at him—his face was expressionless. "You have a daughter—her name is Abigail."
What had he heard?
She had had his child—and she was jus telling him. He had a daughter he knew nothing about. It felt like he had been slapped or punched in the stomach. For as split second time had stood still and he couldn't breathe.
"Randy? Are you alright?"
"Yes, I'm okay. Why? Why didn't you call me, why didn't you tell me?"
"We had just split up—I knew I said some cruel things to you. I had been angry—I was scared you were still upset with me, you wouldn't answer or you would just reject me."
"Is that really the kind of man you think I am, you think I would reject my own child? Even if we hadn't gotten back together I would've been there for my child."
"I know Randy, I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't cut it Grace." He had missed there years of his child's life. His first child—he hadn't even known existed.
"Why are you telling me now Grace? Not that I'm not glad you finally told me—but what made you decide to tell me now?"
"I thought Abby deserved to know her father."
"You just figured that out?"
"No, I took me a long time to get the courage to call you Randy, than I had to find a way to get in touch with you."
He put his head in his hands. He had to think clearly. It didn't matter now that she had waited to tell him—not that it was right, or he wasn't pissed—he was angry but he couldn't change that. What mattered now was his daughter.
"Is Abigail here?"
Grace nodded. "She's upstairs."
"Are you going to let me see her?"
"Of course Randy—I'll go get her." She stood up and left the room.
"What the hell was going on? He was so confused. How was he going to tell Crystal? He had lied and said he was on business. What was he going to say to Abigail? How could he make up for lost time? How was he going to see her?
Grace walked back in. She was carrying a toddler. She had dark brown hair and deep brown eyes.
He hadn't even thought to ask if Grace was sure Abigail was his. There was no need to now. It was quite obvious how much she resembled him.
Grace came over and sat beside him on the couch with their daughter sitting on her lap. "Abigail, hunny, you know how I talk about daddy all the time, and you watch him all the time on TV."
The little girl nodded but didn't say a word. She didn't seem scared. Grace had told Abigail about Randy before Randy knew about Abigail.
She talked about him. She let her watch him work. The littler girl, his daughter, smiled and nodded, pointed at Randy and said-"Daddy."
There was that feeling like he could breathe.
"Yes Abby." Grace said and kissed the side of her daughters head.
"Abby." Randy smiled and took her and sat her on his lap.
Every other emotion he felt that day left his body. He suddenly didn't care how he told Crystal, o how he worked it out.
All that mattered was he was there for his little girls, both of them. He kissed his daughter's forehead. He know now hat no matter what he'd do whatever he could for Abigail.
This was my first attempt at a ONESHOT.
please review it if you guys like it I Have an idea for something special to do with the story. so please let me know what you think. : )