It was early spring. She always hated the spring. Something about every insect and sinus attacking flower coming back from their icy grave of winter was... stressful? For lack of a better term.

"Mrs. Brooks?"

April kept her head turned to the desolate, rainy layout on the other side of the thick plate of glass that separated her from freedom. Metaphorically and literally. Downtown Chicago always seemed like a post-Armageddon wasteland when it was raining. Minus the gore, fire, and crumbling buildings. It was strangely therapeutic and comforting at times like this. The world seemed so simple, yet so complex all at once.

"April."

Her head finally snapped back to attention at the mention of the birth name she was cursed with. "I prefer AJ." She said with a faux sense of confidence. Truthfully, she never saw herself here in a million years. But, as fate would have it, today's procedures were apparently more than necessary.

"Would you like me to repeat myself?"

AJ blinked. The lawyer had a mustard stain on his tie. Dijon, maybe? "No, sir, I heard you. And, yes, I'm positive this is what I want." Her make believe confidence couldn't stop the sadness from choking her up and cause her to stumble over her words. Did she want this? Of course not. But after failed attempts at counseling, both with and without Phil, it was clear it just wasn't going to work.

Wrestling was both their lives for so long, and he just wasn't the same without it. The second they gave him a reason, he packed his things and ran for the hills. Were the WWE wrong in some of the things that happened? Yes, of course. Were those things the cause of his depression and hate for the thing he loved. Yes, of course. Did he allow his depression falter their relationship to the point that AJ set an appointment with a divorce attorney and ask for an end to this? Yes... Of course.

Maybe that's why she found solace in the rain. It reminded her of renewal. Something that was asked of her a few days prior from her old employer. Granted, being a best selling author while going back to her old ways was going to be hard. Maybe the hardest thing she ever did. But she missed it. She wanted it. Needed it. A fresh start with old ties.

The first step was cutting off some old loose ends.

"Will Phil sign the papers? If this is an emergency situation I recommend calling the police."

AJ slowly shook her head. "I'll sign. Then you can send them over. I'll give him a few days to decide."

Life was rough since Phil Brooks, better known as CM Punk, was released from the WWE. It started off as a mild depression. Then the reasons for his departure surfaced and caused a deeper sadness. AJ helped him as best as she could while fighting her own demons. Sometimes he'd come home angry at the world. She'd be waiting for him to better his day but his aura would thwart her plans before she even had a chance to try anything. Sure, she ranged from happy to eccentric to sad to borderline psychotic at times. But at least she was happy most days. He was never happy. And it was unfair for him to take it out on her.


Punk was up in Milwaukee training all day. After his second loss, his MMA career was surely over. But he remained persistent.

AJ knew he'd be home any minute, tired from another day of hard work. She checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror. She rarely dressed up in anything fancier than jeans and a button down, but her man needed extra love in harder times.

Her black skirt and grey t-shirt would do the trick. She sat, crossed legged, on the couch when she heard the lock turn over.

"Hey, baby," She greeted warmly to the exhausted man that shuffled into their home and tossed his keys on the counter. "How'd it go?"

"Shitty." He muttered irritably.

AJ's small smile turned to a frown. "Oh. That's too bad. What happened?"

Punk scoffed, dropping onto the couch beside her. "Fucked up my hand."

Hoping a teasing approach would heighten his mood, AJ rested her chin on his shoulder and giggled softly. "Yeah? Good thing both my hands work."

Punk shrugged her off. "Not know, April. I'm not in the mood for that shit, ok?"

AJ sat back on her heels. "Ok? Do you want me to get you anything?"

Punk tiredly ran his hands over his face a few times. "I just want a few minutes of peace and quiet, ok? Can you manage that?"

Chest tightening, AJ shook her head quickly and hopped from the couch almost as fast. She quickly paced to her bedroom, stripped her nice clothes off for a pair of pajamas, and sat on her bed. This wasn't the first time he'd blown her off. Sometimes it was worse too. He was never physical, thank God, but it still burned deep when he was cold like this. He was still bitter about being fired from WWE, and losing in the UFC, but when would the madness end? He can't keep using this excuse forever. Eventually, he'll have to move past it... But what if he never did? What if he was stuck as the depressed grump she now came home to? What happened to the lively, energetic, charasmatic man she fell in love with and married? She wanted a family; Babies, a big yard, several dogs to cuddle with at night.

Ever since he changed... She started having doubts.

As AJ pulled the blankets back to hopefully get a nap, it started to rain.