-1Never Again
Author: Mel
Rating: PG 13 for language and adult situations
Spoilers: Umm Lita Leaving, the rest I'm making up as I go
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Summary: Amy Dumas Trophy Wife? Or Vengeful Diva?
Pairings: Lita/John, John/Melina, Lita/?
Notes: Look ma I'm writing again!
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Prologue
"Honey what are you doing?" The voice sounded from the bed, as the honey in question, a tall male figure, turned to look towards the voice. He held up a finger to his mouth to single the woman to be quiet. The other hand was holding a cellular phone to his ear.
The woman lay back in bed and watched as the phone conversation took place in front of her.
"Yes, baby, I miss you too. I know I've been gone too long this time I know. Don't worry I'll be home soon. I love you too Amy. Bye." The man rolled his eyes as he closed the phone, tossing it absent mindedly on the adjoining chair before moving back to the bed and the honey skinned woman contained with in.
He smiled as her arms came out to welcome him back to the cooling bed sheets and her warm body.
The woman pulled the man in for a long kiss before smirking up at him from her position underneath him.
"Good morning baby. So what did the little woman want?" Melina Perez said in mock care as John Cena smiled down at her.
"Oh the usual. Wanted to know when I'd be home finally and if I wanted pot roast or lasagna. And if I would mow the grass when I got home."
"Oh the same old shit huh?"
"Yep, but enough about my trophy wife, where were we?"
The woman smiled as she pulled the brown haired man's lips to her own, claiming them as she had done thousands of times before.
-x-x-
The woman on the other end of the cellular phone conversation just sat.
She had just called her husband to see if anything at all was out of place in his tone of voice, his manner of speaking to her.
Only nothing was off, even though she knew at that very moment he was in a hotel room with is girlfriend, mistress, cheating whore.
She didn't understand. They were supposed to have the perfect life, the perfect marriage, the perfect family.
But the yellow manila envelope and the pictures strewn across the dinning room table told a different story.
A tear made a quiet, fiery path down her cheek. She didn't bother to wipe it away.
She looked once more at the phone, at the house, at the table.
That's when she made a decision.
A decision that would mean she would never again be the butt of any of John Cena or Melina Perez's private jokes or conversations. She would never again feel the pity she had from some of her so called friends lately. She would never again be made a fool of.
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